The Old Bachelor

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SHARP. O rogue! Well, but I hope -

SET. No, no; never fear me, sir. I privately informed the knight
of the treachery, who has agreed seemingly to be cheated, that the
captain may be so in reality.

SHARP. Where's the bride?

SET. Shifting clothes for the purpose, at a friend's house of
mine. Here's company coming; if you'll walk this way, sir, I'll
tell you.

SCENE X.

BELLMOUR, BELINDA, ARAMINTA, and VAINLOVE.

VAIN. Oh, 'twas frenzy all: cannot you forgive it? Men in
madness have a title to your pity. [To ARAMINTA.]

ARAM. Which they forfeit, when they are restored to their senses.

VAIN. I am not presuming beyond a pardon.

ARAM. You who could reproach me with one counterfeit, how insolent
would a real pardon make you! But there's no need to forgive what
is not worth my anger.

BELIN. O' my conscience, I could find in my heart to marry thee,
purely to be rid of thee--at least thou art so troublesome a lover,
there's hopes thou'lt make a more than ordinary quiet husband. [To
BELLMOUR.]

BELL. Say you so? Is that a maxim among ye?

BELIN. Yes: you fluttering men of the MODE have made marriage a
mere French dish.

BELL. I hope there's no French sauce. [Aside.]

BELIN. You are so curious in the preparation, that is, your
courtship, one would think you meant a noble entertainment--but
when we come to feed, 'tis all froth, and poor, but in show. Nay,
often, only remains, which have been I know not how many times
warmed for other company, and at last served up cold to the wife.

BELL. That were a miserable wretch indeed, who could not afford
one warm dish for the wife of his bosom. But you timorous virgins
form a dreadful chimaera of a husband, as of a creature contrary to
that soft, humble, pliant, easy thing, a lover; so guess at plagues
in matrimony, in opposition to the pleasures of courtship. Alas!
courtship to marriage, is but as the music in the play-house, until
the curtain's drawn; but that once up, then opens the scene of
pleasure.

BELIN. Oh, foh,--no: rather courtship to marriage, as a very
witty prologue to a very dull play.

SCENE XI.

[To them] SHARPER.

SHARP. Hist! Bellmour. If you'll bring the ladies, make haste to
Sylvia's lodgings, before Heartwell has fretted himself out of
breath.

BELL. You have an opportunity now, madam, to revenge yourself upon
Heartwell, for affronting your squirrel. [To BELINDA.]

BELIN. Oh, the filthy rude beast.

ARAM. 'Tis a lasting quarrel; I think he has never been at our
house since.

BELL. But give yourselves the trouble to walk to that corner-
house, and I'll tell you by the way what may divert and surprise
you.

SCENE XII.

SCENE: Sylvia's Lodgings.

HEARTWELL and BOY.

HEART. Gone forth, say you, with her maid?

BOY. There was a man too, that fetched them out--Setter, I think
they called him.

HEART. So-h--that precious pimp too--damned, damned strumpet!
could she not contain herself on her wedding-day? not hold out till
night? Oh, cursed state! how wide we err, when apprehensive of the
load of life.

We hope to find
That help which Nature meant in womankind,
To man that supplemental self-designed;
But proves a burning caustic when applied,
And Adam, sure, could with more ease abide
The bone when broken, than when made a bride.

SCENE XIII.

[To him] BELLMOUR, BELINDA, VAINLOVE, ARAMINTA.

BELL. Now George, what, rhyming! I thought the chimes of verse
were past, when once the doleful marriage-knell was rung.

HEART. Shame and confusion, I am exposed. [VAINLOVE and ARAMINTA
talk apart.]

BELIN. Joy, joy, Mr. Bridegroom; I give you joy, sir.

HEART. 'Tis not in thy nature to give me joy. A woman can as soon
give immortality.

BELIN. Ha, ha, ha! oh Gad, men grow such clowns when they are
married.

BELL. That they are fit for no company but their wives.

BELIN. Nor for them neither, in a little time. I swear, at the
month's end, you shall hardly find a married man that will do a
civil thing to his wife, or say a civil thing to anybody else. How
he looks already, ha, ha, ha.

BELL. Ha, ha, ha!

HEART. Death, am I made your laughing-stock? For you, sir, I
shall find a time; but take off your wasp here, or the clown may
grow boisterous; I have a fly-flap.

BELIN. You have occasion for't, your wife has been blown upon.

BELL. That's home.

HEART. Not fiends or furies could have added to my vexation, or
anything, but another woman. You've racked my patience; begone, or
by -

BELL. Hold, hold. What the devil--thou wilt not draw upon a
woman?

VAIN. What's the matter?

ARAM. Bless me! what have you done to him?

BELIN. Only touched a galled beast until he winced.

VAIN. Bellmour, give it over; you vex him too much. 'Tis all
serious to him.

BELIN. Nay, I swear, I begin to pity him myself.

HEART. Damn your pity!--but let me be calm a little. How have I
deserved this of you? any of ye? Sir, have I impaired the honour
of your house, promised your sister marriage, and whored her?
Wherein have I injured you? Did I bring a physician to your father
when he lay expiring, and endeavour to prolong his life, and you
one and twenty? Madam, have I had an opportunity with you and
baulked it? Did you ever offer me the favour that I refused it?
Or -

BELIN. Oh foh! what does the filthy fellow mean? Lord, let me be
gone.

ARAM. Hang me, if I pity you; you are right enough served.

BELL. This is a little scurrilous though.

VAIN. Nay, 'tis a sore of your own scratching--well, George?

HEART. You are the principal cause of all my present ills. If
Sylvia had not been your mistress, my wife might have been honest.

VAIN. And if Sylvia had not been your wife, my mistress might have
been just. There, we are even. But have a good heart, I heard of
your misfortune, and come to your relief.

HEART. When execution's over, you offer a reprieve.

VAIN. What would you give?

HEART. Oh! Anything, everything, a leg or two, or an arm; nay, I
would be divorced from my virility to be divorced from my wife.

SCENE XIV.

[To them] SHARPER.

VAIN. Faith, that's a sure way: but here's one can sell you
freedom better cheap.

SHARP. Vainlove, I have been a kind of a godfather to you yonder.
I have promised and vowed some things in your name which I think
you are bound to perform.

VAIN. No signing to a blank, friend.

SHARP. No, I'll deal fairly with you. 'Tis a full and free
discharge to Sir Joseph Wittal and Captain Bluffe; for all injuries
whatsoever, done unto you by them, until the present date hereof.
How say you?

VAIN. Agreed.

SHARP. Then, let me beg these ladies to wear their masks, a
moment. Come in, gentlemen and ladies.

HEART. What the devil's all this to me?

VAIN. Patience.

SCENE the Last

[To them] SIR JOSEPH, BLUFFE, SYLVIA, LUCY, SETTER.

BLUFF. All injuries whatsoever, Mr. Sharper.

SIR JO. Ay, ay, whatsoever, Captain, stick to that; whatsoever.

SHARP. 'Tis done, these gentlemen are witnesses to the general
release.

VAIN. Ay, ay, to this instant moment. I have passed an act of
oblivion.

BLUFF. 'Tis very generous, sir, since I needs must own -

SIR JO. No, no, Captain, you need not own, heh, heh, heh. 'Tis I
must own -

BLUFF.--That you are over-reached too, ha, ha, ha, only a little
art military used--only undermined, or so, as shall appear by the
fair Araminta, my wife's permission. Oh, the devil, cheated at
last! [Lucy unmasks.]

SIR JO. Only a little art-military trick, captain, only
countermined, or so. Mr. Vainlove, I suppose you know whom I have
got--now, but all's forgiven.

VAIN. I know whom you have not got; pray ladies convince him.
[ARAM. and BELIN. unmask.]

SIR JO. Ah! oh Lord, my heart aches. Ah! Setter, a rogue of all
sides.

SHARP. Sir Joseph, you had better have pre-engaged this
gentleman's pardon: for though Vainlove be so generous to forgive
the loss of his mistress, I know not how Heartwell may take the
loss of his wife. [SYLVIA unmasks.]

HEART. My wife! By this light 'tis she, the very cockatrice. O
Sharper! Let me embrace thee. But art thou sure she is really
married to him?

SET. Really and lawfully married, I am witness.

SHARP. Bellmour will unriddle to you. [HEARTWELL goes to
BELLMOUR.]

SIR JO. Pray, madam, who are you? For I find you and I are like
to be better acquainted.

SYLV. The worst of me is, that I am your wife -

SHARP. Come, Sir Joseph, your fortune is not so bad as you fear.
A fine lady, and a lady of very good quality.

SIR JO. Thanks to my knighthood, she's a lady -

VAIN. That deserves a fool with a better title. Pray use her as
my relation, or you shall hear on't.

BLUFF. What, are you a woman of quality too, spouse?

SET. And my relation; pray let her be respected accordingly.
Well, honest Lucy, fare thee well. I think, you and I have been
play-fellows off and on, any time this seven years.

LUCY. Hold your prating. I'm thinking what vocation I shall
follow while my spouse is planting laurels in the wars.

BLUFF. No more wars, spouse, no more wars. While I plant laurels
for my head abroad, I may find the branches sprout at home.

HEART. Bellmour, I approve thy mirth, and thank thee. And I
cannot in gratitude (for I see which way thou art going) see thee
fall into the same snare out of which thou hast delivered me.

BELL. I thank thee, George, for thy good intention; but there is a
fatality in marriage, for I find I'm resolute.

HEART. Then good counsel will be thrown away upon you. For my
part, I have once escaped; and when I wed again, may she be--ugly,
as an old bawd.

VAIN. Ill-natured, as an old maid -

BELL. Wanton, as a young widow -

SHARP. And jealous, as a barren wife.

HEART. Agreed.

BELL. Well; 'midst of these dreadful denunciations, and
notwithstanding the warning and example before me, I commit myself
to lasting durance.

BELIN. Prisoner, make much of your fetters. [Giving her hand.]

BELL. Frank, will you keep us in countenance?

VAIN. May I presume to hope so great a blessing?

ARAM. We had better take the advantage of a little of our friend's
experience first.

BELL. O' my conscience she dares not consent, for fear he should
recant. [Aside.] Well, we shall have your company to church in
the morning. May be it may get you an appetite to see us fall to
before you. Setter, did not you tell me? -

SET. They're at the door: I'll call 'em in.

A DANCE.

BELL. Now set we forward on a journey for life. Come take your
fellow-travellers. Old George, I'm sorry to see thee still plod on
alone.

HEART. With gaudy plumes and jingling bells made proud,
The youthful beast sets forth, and neighs aloud.
A morning-sun his tinselled harness gilds,
And the first stage a down-hill greensward yields.
But, oh -
What rugged ways attend the noon of life!
Our sun declines, and with what anxious strife,
What pain we tug that galling load, a wife.
All coursers the first heat with vigour run;
But 'tis with whip and spur the race is won.
[Exeunt Omnes.]

EPILOGUE.
Spoken by MRS. BARRY.

As a rash girl, who will all hazards run,
And be enjoyed, though sure to be undone,
Soon as her curiosity is over,
Would give the world she could her toy recover,
So fares it with our poet; and I'm sent
To tell you he already does repent:
Would you were all as forward to keep Lent.
Now the deed's done, the giddy thing has leisure
To think o' th' sting, that's in the tail of pleasure.
Methinks I hear him in consideration:
What will the world say? Where's my reputation?
Now that's at stake. No, fool, 'tis out o' fashion.
If loss of that should follow want of wit,
How many undone men were in the pit!
Why that's some comfort to an author's fears,
If he's an ass, he will be tryed by's peers.
But hold, I am exceeding my commission:
My business here was humbly to petition;
But we're so used to rail on these occasions,
I could not help one trial of your patience:
For 'tis our way, you know, for fear o' th' worst,
To be beforehand still, and cry Fool first.
How say you, sparks? How do you stand affected?
I swear, young Bays within is so dejected,
'Twould grieve your hearts to see him; shall I call him?
But then you cruel critics would so maul him!
Yet may be you'll encourage a beginner;
But how? Just as the devil does a sinner.
Women and wits are used e'en much at one,
You gain your end, and damn 'em when you've done.

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