The Double Dealer
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William Congreve >> The Double Dealer
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MEL. For heav'n's sake, madam -
LADY PLYANT. Oh, name it no more. Bless me, how can you talk of
heav'n, and have so much wickedness in your heart? May be you don't
think it a sin--they say some of you gentlemen don't think it a sin.
May be it is no sin to them that don't think it so; indeed, if I did
not think it a sin--But still my honour, if it were no sin. But
then, to marry my daughter for the conveniency of frequent
opportunities, I'll never consent to that; as sure as can be, I'll
break the match.
MEL. Death and amazement! Madam, upon my knees -
LADY PLYANT. Nay, nay, rise up; come, you shall see my good-nature.
I know love is powerful, and nobody can help his passion. 'Tis not
your fault; nor, I swear, it is not mine. How can I help it, if I
have charms? And how can you help it, if you are made a captive? I
swear it is pity it should be a fault. But my honour,--well, but
your honour, too--but the sin!--well, but the necessity--O Lord,
here's somebody coming, I dare not stay. Well, you must consider of
your crime; and strive as much as can be against it,--strive, be
sure. But don't be melancholic; don't despair. But never think
that I'll grant you anything. O Lord, no. But be sure you lay
aside all thoughts of the marriage, for though I know you don't love
Cynthia, only as a blind for your passion to me, yet it will make me
jealous. O Lord, what did I say? Jealous! no, no, I can't be
jealous, for I must not love you; therefore don't hope,--but don't
despair neither. Oh, they're coming, I must fly.
SCENE VI.
MELLEFONT alone.
MEL. [After a pause.] So then, spite of my care and foresight, I
am caught, caught in my security. Yet this was but a shallow
artifice, unworthy of my Machiavellian aunt. There must be more
behind: this is but the first flash, the priming of her engine.
Destruction follows hard, if not most presently prevented.
SCENE VII.
[To him] MASKWELL.
MEL. Maskwell, welcome, thy presence is a view of land, appearing
to my shipwrecked hopes. The witch has raised the storm, and her
ministers have done their work: you see the vessels are parted.
MASK. I know it. I met Sir Paul towing away Cynthia. Come,
trouble not your head; I'll join you together ere to-morrow morning,
or drown between you in the attempt.
MEL. There's comfort in a hand stretched out to one that's sinking;
though ne'er so far off.
MASK. No sinking, nor no danger. Come, cheer up; why, you don't
know that while I plead for you, your aunt has given me a retaining
fee. Nay, I am your greatest enemy, and she does but journey-work
under me.
MEL. Ha! how's this?
MASK. What d'ye think of my being employed in the execution of all
her plots? Ha, ha, ha, by heav'n, it's true: I have undertaken to
break the match; I have undertaken to make your uncle disinherit
you; to get you turned out of doors; and to--ha, ha, ha, I can't
tell you for laughing. Oh, she has opened her heart to me! I am to
turn you a-grazing, and to--ha, ha, ha, marry Cynthia myself.
There's a plot for you.
MEL. Ha! Oh, see, I see my rising sun! Light breaks through
clouds upon me, and I shall live in day--Oh, my Maskwell! how shall
I thank or praise thee? Thou hast outwitted woman. But, tell me,
how couldst thou thus get into her confidence? Ha! How? But was
it her contrivance to persuade my Lady Plyant to this extravagant
belief?
MASK. It was; and to tell you the truth, I encouraged it for your
diversion. Though it made you a little uneasy for the present, yet
the reflection of it must needs be entertaining. I warrant she was
very violent at first.
MEL. Ha, ha, ha, ay, a very fury; but I was most afraid of her
violence at last. If you had not come as you did, I don't know what
she might have attempted.
MASK. Ha, ha, ha, I know her temper. Well, you must know, then,
that all my contrivances were but bubbles, till at last I pretended
to have been long secretly in love with Cynthia; that did my
business, that convinced your aunt I might be trusted; since it was
as much my interest as hers to break the match. Then, she thought
my jealousy might qualify me to assist her in her revenge. And, in
short, in that belief, told me the secrets of her heart. At length
we made this agreement, if I accomplish her designs (as I told you
before) she has engaged to put Cynthia with all her fortune into my
power.
MEL. She is most gracious in her favour. Well, and, dear Jack, how
hast thou contrived?
MASK. I would not have you stay to hear it now; for I don't know
but she may come this way. I am to meet her anon; after that, I'll
tell you the whole matter. Be here in this gallery an hour hence;
by that time I imagine our consultation may be over.
MEL. I will; till then success attend thee.
SCENE VIII.
MASKWELL alone.
Till then, success will attend me; for when I meet you, I meet the
only obstacle to my fortune. Cynthia, let thy beauty gild my
crimes; and whatsoever I commit of treachery or deceit, shall be
imputed to me as a merit. Treachery? What treachery? Love cancels
all the bonds of friendship, and sets men right upon their first
foundations.
Duty to kings, piety to parents, gratitude to benefactors, and
fidelity to friends, are different and particular ties. But the
name of rival cuts 'em all asunder, and is a general acquittance.
Rival is equal, and love like death an universal leveller of
mankind. Ha! But is there not such a thing as honesty? Yes, and
whosoever has it about him, bears an enemy in his breast. For your
honest man, as I take it, is that nice, scrupulous, conscientious
person, who will cheat nobody but himself; such another coxcomb as
your wise man, who is too hard for all the world, and will be made a
fool of by nobody but himself; ha, ha, ha. Well, for wisdom and
honesty give me cunning and hypocrisy; oh, 'tis such a pleasure to
angle for fair-faced fools! Then that hungry gudgeon credulity will
bite at anything. Why, let me see, I have the same face, the same
words and accents when I speak what I do think, and when I speak
what I do not think, the very same; and dear dissimulation is the
only art not to be known from nature.
Why will mankind be fools, and be deceived,
And why are friends' and lovers' oaths believed,
When each, who searches strictly his own mind,
May so much fraud and power of baseness find?
ACT III.--SCENE I.
LORD TOUCHWOOD and LADY TOUCHWOOD.
LADY TOUCH. My lord, can you blame my brother Plyant if he refuse
his daughter upon this provocation? The contract's void by this
unheard-of impiety.
LORD TOUCH. I don't believe it true; he has better principles.
Pho, 'tis nonsense. Come, come, I know my Lady Plyant has a large
eye, and would centre everything in her own circle; 'tis not the
first time she has mistaken respect for love, and made Sir Paul
jealous of the civility of an undesigning person, the better to
bespeak his security in her unfeigned pleasures.
LADY TOUCH. You censure hardly, my lord; my sister's honour is very
well known.
LORD TOUCH. Yes, I believe I know some that have been familiarly
acquainted with it. This is a little trick wrought by some pitiful
contriver, envious of my nephew's merit.
LADY TOUCH. Nay, my lord, it may be so, and I hope it will be found
so. But that will require some time; for in such a case as this,
demonstration is necessary.
LORD TOUCH. There should have been demonstration of the contrary
too, before it had been believed.
LADY TOUCH. So I suppose there was.
LORD TOUCH. How? Where? When?
LADY TOUCH. That I can't tell; nay, I don't say there was. I am
willing to believe as favourably of my nephew as I can.
LORD TOUCH. I don't know that. [Half aside.]
LADY TOUCH. How? Don't you believe that, say you, my lord?
LORD TOUCH. No, I don't say so. I confess I am troubled to find
you so cold in his defence.
LADY TOUCH. His defence! Bless me, would you have me defend an ill
thing?
LORD TOUCH. You believe it, then?
LADY TOUCH. I don't know; I am very unwilling to speak my thoughts
in anything that may be to my cousin's disadvantage: besides, I
find, my lord, you are prepared to receive an ill impression from
any opinion of mine which is not consenting with your own. But,
since I am like to be suspected in the end, and 'tis a pain any
longer to dissemble, I own it to you; in short I do believe it, nay,
and can believe anything worse, if it were laid to his charge.
Don't ask me my reasons, my lord, for they are not fit to be told
you.
LORD TOUCH. I'm amazed: there must be something more than ordinary
in this. [Aside.] Not fit to be told me, madam? You can have no
interests wherein I am not concerned, and consequently the same
reasons ought to be convincing to me, which create your satisfaction
or disquiet.
LADY TOUCH. But those which cause my disquiet I am willing to have
remote from your hearing. Good my lord, don't press me.
LORD TOUCH. Don't oblige me to press you.
LADY TOUCH. Whatever it was, 'tis past. And that is better to be
unknown which cannot be prevented; therefore let me beg you to rest
satisfied.
LORD TOUCH. When you have told me, I will.
LADY TOUCH. You won't.
LORD TOUCH. By my life, my dear, I will.
LADY TOUCH. What if you can't?
LORD TOUCH. How? Then I must know, nay, I will. No more trifling.
I charge you tell me. By all our mutual peace to come; upon your
duty -
LADY TOUCH. Nay, my lord, you need say no more, to make me lay my
heart before you, but don't be thus transported; compose yourself.
It is not of concern to make you lose one minute's temper. 'Tis
not, indeed, my dear. Nay, by this kiss you shan't be angry. O
Lord, I wish I had not told you anything. Indeed, my lord, you have
frighted me. Nay, look pleased, I'll tell you.
LORD TOUCH. Well, well.
LADY TOUCH. Nay, but will you be calm? Indeed it's nothing but -
LORD TOUCH. But what?
LADY TOUCH. But will you promise me not to be angry? Nay, you
must--not to be angry with Mellefont? I dare swear he's sorry, and
were it to do again, would not -
LORD TOUCH. Sorry for what? 'Death, you rack me with delay.
LADY TOUCH. Nay, no great matter, only--well, I have your promise.
Pho, why nothing, only your nephew had a mind to amuse himself
sometimes with a little gallantry towards me. Nay, I can't think he
meant anything seriously, but methought it looked oddly.
LORD TOUCH. Confusion and hell, what do I hear?
LADY TOUCH. Or, may be, he thought he was not enough akin to me,
upon your account, and had a mind to create a nearer relation on his
own; a lover you know, my lord. Ha, ha, ha. Well, but that's all.
Now you have it; well remember your promise, my lord, and don't take
any notice of it to him.
LORD TOUCH. No, no, no. Damnation!
LADY TOUCH. Nay, I swear you must not. A little harmless mirth;
only misplaced, that's all. But if it were more, 'tis over now, and
all's well. For my part I have forgot it, and so has he, I hope,--
for I have not heard anything from him these two days.
LORD TOUCH. These two days! Is it so fresh? Unnatural villain!
Death, I'll have him stripped and turned naked out of my doors this
moment, and let him rot and perish, incestuous brute!
LADY TOUCH. Oh, for heav'n's sake, my lord, you'll ruin me if you
take such public notice of it; it will be a town talk. Consider
your own and my honour; nay, I told you you would not be satisfied
when you knew it.
LORD TOUCH. Before I've done I will be satisfied. Ungrateful
monster! how long?
LADY TOUCH. Lord, I don't know; I wish my lips had grown together
when I told you. Almost a twelvemonth. Nay, I won't tell you any
more till you are yourself. Pray, my lord, don't let the company
see you in this disorder. Yet, I confess, I can't blame you; for I
think I was never so surprised in my life. Who would have thought
my nephew could have so misconstrued my kindness? But will you go
into your closet, and recover your temper. I'll make an excuse of
sudden business to the company, and come to you. Pray, good, dear
my lord, let me beg you do now. I'll come immediately and tell you
all; will you, my lord?
LORD TOUCH. I will--I am mute with wonder.
LADY TOUCH. Well, but go now, here's somebody coming.
LORD TOUCH. Well, I go. You won't stay? for I would hear more of
this.
LADY TOUCH. I follow instantly. So.
SCENE II.
LADY TOUCHWOOD, MASKWELL.
MASK. This was a masterpiece, and did not need my help, though I
stood ready for a cue to come in and confirm all, had there been
occasion.
LADY TOUCH. Have you seen Mellefont?
MASK. I have; and am to meet him here about this time.
LADY TOUCH. How does he bear his disappointment?
MASK. Secure in my assistance, he seemed not much afflicted, but
rather laughed at the shallow artifice, which so little time must of
necessity discover. Yet he is apprehensive of some farther design
of yours, and has engaged me to watch you. I believe he will hardly
be able to prevent your plot, yet I would have you use caution and
expedition.
LADY TOUCH. Expedition indeed, for all we do must be performed in
the remaining part of this evening, and before the company break up,
lest my lord should cool and have an opportunity to talk with him
privately. My lord must not see him again.
MASK. By no means; therefore you must aggravate my lord's
displeasure to a degree that will admit of no conference with him.
What think you of mentioning me?
LADY TOUCH. How?
MASK. To my lord, as having been privy to Mellefont's design upon
you, but still using my utmost endeavours to dissuade him, though my
friendship and love to him has made me conceal it; yet you may say,
I threatened the next time he attempted anything of that kind to
discover it to my lord.
LADY TOUCH. To what end is this?
MASK. It will confirm my lord's opinion of my honour and honesty,
and create in him a new confidence in me, which (should this design
miscarry) will be necessary to the forming another plot that I have
in my head.--To cheat you as well as the rest. [Aside.]
LADY TOUCH. I'll do it--I'll tell him you hindered him once from
forcing me.
MASK. Excellent! Your ladyship has a most improving fancy. You
had best go to my lord, keep him as long as you can in his closet,
and I doubt not but you will mould him to what you please; your
guests are so engaged in their own follies and intrigues, they'll
miss neither of you.
LADY TOUCH. When shall we meet?--at eight this evening in my
chamber? There rejoice at our success, and toy away an hour in
mirth.
MASK. I will not fail.
SCENE III.
MASKWELL alone.
I know what she means by toying away an hour well enough. Pox, I
have lost all appetite to her; yet she's a fine woman, and I loved
her once. But I don't know: since I have been in a great measure
kept by her, the case is altered; what was my pleasure is become my
duty, and I have as little stomach to her now as if I were her
husband. Should she smoke my design upon Cynthia, I were in a fine
pickle. She has a damned penetrating head, and knows how to
interpret a coldness the right way; therefore I must dissemble
ardour and ecstasy; that's resolved. How easily and pleasantly is
that dissembled before fruition! Pox on't that a man can't drink
without quenching his thirst. Ha! yonder comes Mellefont,
thoughtful. Let me think. Meet her at eight--hum--ha! By heav'n I
have it.--If I can speak to my lord before. Was it my brain or
providence? No matter which--I will deceive 'em all, and yet secure
myself. 'Twas a lucky thought! Well, this double-dealing is a
jewel. Here he comes, now for me. [MASKWELL, pretending not to see
him, walks by him, and speaks as it were to himself.]
SCENE IV.
[To him] MELLEFONT, musing.
MASK. Mercy on us, what will the wickedness of this world come to?
MEL. How now, Jack? What, so full of contemplation that you run
over?
MASK. I'm glad you're come, for I could not contain myself any
longer, and was just going to give vent to a secret, which nobody
but you ought to drink down. Your aunt's just gone from hence.
MEL. And having trusted thee with the secrets of her soul, thou art
villainously bent to discover 'em all to me, ha?
MASK. I'm afraid my frailty leans that way. But I don't know
whether I can in honour discover 'em all.
MEL. All, all, man! What, you may in honour betray her as far as
she betrays herself. No tragical design upon my person, I hope.
MASK. No, but it's a comical design upon mine.
MEL. What dost thou mean?
MASK. Listen and be dumb; we have been bargaining about the rate of
your ruin -
MEL. Like any two guardians to an orphan heiress. Well?
MASK. And whereas pleasure is generally paid with mischief, what
mischief I do is to be paid with pleasure.
MEL. So when you've swallowed the potion you sweeten your mouth
with a plum.
MASK. You are merry, sir, but I shall probe your constitution. In
short, the price of your banishment is to be paid with the person of
-
MEL. Of Cynthia and her fortune. Why, you forget you told me this
before.
MASK. No, no. So far you are right; and I am, as an earnest of
that bargain, to have full and free possession of the person of--
your aunt.
MEL. Ha! Pho, you trifle.
MASK. By this light, I'm serious; all raillery apart. I knew
'twould stun you. This evening at eight she will receive me in her
bedchamber.
MEL. Hell and the devil, is she abandoned of all grace? Why, the
woman is possessed.
MASK. Well, will you go in my stead?
MEL. By heav'n, into a hot furnace sooner.
MASK. No, you would not; it would not be so convenient, as I can
order matters.
MEL. What d'ye mean?
MASK. Mean? Not to disappoint the lady, I assure you. Ha, ha, ha,
how gravely he looks. Come, come, I won't perplex you. 'Tis the
only thing that providence could have contrived to make me capable
of serving you, either to my inclination or your own necessity.
MEL. How, how, for heav'n's sake, dear Maskwell?
MASK. Why, thus. I'll go according to appointment; you shall have
notice at the critical minute to come and surprise your aunt and me
together. Counterfeit a rage against me, and I'll make my escape
through the private passage from her chamber, which I'll take care
to leave open. 'Twill be hard if then you can't bring her to any
conditions. For this discovery will disarm her of all defence, and
leave her entirely at your mercy--nay, she must ever after be in awe
of you.
MEL. Let me adore thee, my better genius! By heav'n I think it is
not in the power of fate to disappoint my hopes--my hopes? My
certainty!
MASK. Well, I'll meet you here, within a quarter of eight, and give
you notice.
MEL. Good fortune ever go along with thee.
SCENE V.
MELLEFONT, CARELESS.
CARE. Mellefont, get out o' th' way, my Lady Plyant's coming, and I
shall never succeed while thou art in sight. Though she begins to
tack about; but I made love a great while to no purpose.
MEL. Why, what's the matter? She's convinced that I don't care for
her.
CARE. I can't get an answer from her, that does not begin with her
honour, or her virtue, her religion, or some such cant. Then she
has told me the whole history of Sir Paul's nine years courtship;
how he has lain for whole nights together upon the stairs before her
chamber-door; and that the first favour he received from her was a
piece of an old scarlet petticoat for a stomacher, which since the
day of his marriage he has out of a piece of gallantry converted
into a night-cap, and wears it still with much solemnity on his
anniversary wedding-night.
MEL. That I have seen, with the ceremony thereunto belonging. For
on that night he creeps in at the bed's feet like a gulled bassa
that has married a relation of the Grand Signior, and that night he
has his arms at liberty. Did not she tell you at what a distance
she keeps him? He has confessed to me that, but at some certain
times, that is, I suppose, when she apprehends being with child, he
never has the privilege of using the familiarity of a husband with a
wife. He was once given to scrambling with his hands, and sprawling
in his sleep, and ever since she has him swaddled up in blankets,
and his hands and feet swathed down, and so put to bed; and there he
lies with a great beard, like a Russian bear upon a drift of snow.
You are very great with him, I wonder he never told you his
grievances: he will, I warrant you.
CARE. Excessively foolish! But that which gives me most hopes of
her is her telling me of the many temptations she has resisted.
MEL. Nay, then you have her; for a woman's bragging to a man that
she has overcome temptations is an argument that they were weakly
offered, and a challenge to him to engage her more irresistibly.
'Tis only an enhancing the price of the commodity, by telling you
how many customers have underbid her.
CARE. Nay, I don't despair. But still she has a grudging to you.
I talked to her t'other night at my Lord Froth's masquerade, when
I'm satisfied she knew me, and I had no reason to complain of my
reception; but I find women are not the same bare-faced and in
masks, and a vizor disguises their inclinations as much as their
faces.
MEL. 'Tis a mistake, for women may most properly be said to be
unmasked when they wear vizors; for that secures them from blushing
and being out of countenance, and next to being in the dark, or
alone, they are most truly themselves in a vizor mask. Here they
come: I'll leave you. Ply her close, and by and by clap a BILLET
DOUX into her hand; for a woman never thinks a man truly in love
with her, till he has been fool enough to think of her out of her
sight, and to lose so much time as to write to her.
SCENE VI.
CARELESS, SIR PAUL, and LADY PLYANT.
SIR PAUL. Shan't we disturb your meditation, Mr. Careless? You
would be private?
CARE. You bring that along with you, Sir Paul, that shall be always
welcome to my privacy.
SIR PAUL. O sweet sir, you load your humble servants, both me and
my wife, with continual favours.
LADY PLYANT. Sir Paul, what a phrase was there? You will be making
answers, and taking that upon you which ought to lie upon me. That
you should have so little breeding to think Mr. Careless did not
apply himself to me. Pray what have you to entertain anybody's
privacy? I swear and declare in the face of the world I'm ready to
blush for your ignorance.
SIR PAUL. I acquiesce, my lady; but don't snub so loud. [Aside to
her.]
LADY PLYANT. Mr. Careless, if a person that is wholly illiterate
might be supposed to be capable of being qualified to make a
suitable return to those obligations, which you are pleased to
confer upon one that is wholly incapable of being qualified in all
those circumstances, I'm sure I should rather attempt it than
anything in the world, [Courtesies] for I'm sure there's nothing in
the world that I would rather. [Courtesies] But I know Mr.
Careless is so great a critic, and so fine a gentleman, that it is
impossible for me -
CARE. O heavens! madam, you confound me.
SIR PAUL. Gads-bud, she's a fine person.
LADY PLYANT. O Lord! sir, pardon me, we women have not those
advantages; I know my imperfections. But at the same time you must
give me leave to declare in the face of the world that nobody is
more sensible of favours and things; for with the reserve of my
honour I assure you, Mr. Careless, I don't know anything in the
world I would refuse to a person so meritorious. You'll pardon my
want of expression.
CARE. O, your ladyship is abounding in all excellence, particularly
that of phrase.
LADY PLYANT. You are so obliging, sir.
CARE. Your ladyship is so charming.
SIR PAUL. So, now, now; now, my lady.
LADY PLYANT. So well bred.
CARE. So surprising.
LADY PLYANT. So well dressed, so BONNE MINE, so eloquent, so
unaffected, so easy, so free, so particular, so agreeable.
SIR PAUL. Ay, so, so, there.
CARE. O Lord, I beseech you madam, don't.
LADY PLYANT. So gay, so graceful, so good teeth, so fine shape, so
fine limbs, so fine linen, and I don't doubt but you have a very
good skin, sir,
CARE. For heaven's sake, madam, I'm quite out of countenance.
SIR PAUL. And my lady's quite out of breath; or else you should
hear--Gads-bud, you may talk of my Lady Froth.
CARE. O fie, fie, not to be named of a day. My Lady Froth is very
well in her accomplishments. But it is when my Lady Plyant is not
thought of. If that can ever be.
LADY PLYANT. O, you overcome me. That is so excessive.
SIR PAUL. Nay, I swear and vow that was pretty.
CARE. O, Sir Paul, you are the happiest man alive. Such a lady!
that is the envy of her own sex, and the admiration of ours.
SIR PAUL. Your humble servant. I am, I thank heaven, in a fine way
of living, as I may say, peacefully and happily, and I think need
not envy any of my neighbours, blessed be providence. Ay, truly,
Mr. Careless, my lady is a great blessing, a fine, discreet, well-
spoken woman as you shall see, if it becomes me to say so, and we
live very comfortably together; she is a little hasty sometimes, and
so am I; but mine's soon over, and then I'm so sorry.--O Mr.
Careless, if it were not for one thing -
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