mon Pure, and keep him with you. Make meaneth this struggling within me? I feel the the right use of this. Adieu.—Excellent well! spirit resisteth the vanities of this world, but [Aside. the flesh is rebellious, yea, the flesh-I greatly fear the flesh and the weakness thereof Obad. Dost thou hear this? [To Simon Pure. hum-1) Simon. Yea, but it moveth me not: that Obad. The maid is inspir'd. [Aside] Prodoubtless is the impostor. digious! The damsel is filled with the spirit Sarah. [Pointing at the Colonel. Col. F. Ah! thou wicked one-now I consider thy face, I remember thou didst come Enter MRS. PRIM. up in the leathern conveniency with me- Mrs. P. I am greatly rejoiced to see such thou hadst a black bob-wig on, and a brown a change in our beloved Anne. I came to camblet coat with brass buttons--Canst thou tell thee that supper stayeth for thee. deny it, ha? Simon. Yes, I can, and with a safe science too, friend. Obad. Verily, friend, thou art the impudent villain I ever saw. Col. F. I am not disposed for thy food; con- my spirit longeth for more delicious meat!fain would I redeem this maiden from the tribe of sinners, and break those cords asunder wherewith she is bound-hum most Miss L. Something whispers in my ears, Miss L. Nay, then, I'll have a fling at him. [Aside] I remember the face of this fellow methinks that I must be subject to the will at Bath-Ay, this is he that pick'd my lady of this good man, and, from him only must Raffle's pocket in the grove-Don't you re- hope for consolation-hum-It also telleth me member that the mob pump'd 1) you, friend? that I am a chosen vessel to raise up seed -This is the most notorious rogueto the faithful, and that thou must consent Simon. What does provoke thee to seek my that we two be one flesh according to the life? Thou wilt not hang me, wilt thou, word-bamwrongfully? Obad. What a revelation is here! This is Obad. She will do thee no hurt, nor thou certainly part of thy vision, friend; this is shalt do me none; therefore get thee about the maiden's growing unto thy side: ah! with thy business, friend, and leave thy wicked what willingness should I give thee my concourse of life, or thou mayst not come off so sent, could I give thee her fortune too-but favourably every where. Simon, I pray thee, thou wilt never get the consent of the wicked put him forth. ones. Col. F. I wish I was sure of yours. [Aside. Col. F. Go, friend, I would advise thee, and tempt thy fate no more. Simon. Yes, I will go; but it shall be to say, to find the spirit within thee; for lo, it thy confusion; I shall clear myself; I will moveth thee with natural agitation-yea, with return with some proofs that shall convince natural agitation towards this good man-yea, thee, Obadiah, that thou art highly imposed on. it stirreth, as one may say-yea, verily I say, [Exit. it stirreth up thy inclination-yea, as staying for would stir a pudding. shall I do? All. Hum! Col. F. Then there will be no me, that's certain-what the devil one [Aside. Miss L. I see, I see! the spirit guiding of Obad. What monstrous works of iniquity thy hand, good Obadiah Prim, and now beare there in this world, Simon? hold thou art signing thy consent-and now Col. F. Yea, the age is full of vice-'Sdeath, I see myself within thy arms, my friend and I am so confounded I know not what to say. brother, yea, I am become bone of thy bone, [Aside. and flesh of thy flesh. [Embracing him] Obad. Thou art disorder'd, friend,-art thou Humnot well? Mrs. P. The spirit hath greatly moved them Col. F. My spirit is greatly troubled, and both-friend Prim, thou must consent; there's something telleth me, that though I have no resisting of the spirit! wrought a good work in converting this maiden, Obad. Fetch me the pen and ink, Sarahthis tender maiden, yet my labour will be and my hand shall confess its obedience to in vain: for the evil spirit fighteth against her: the spirit. [Exit Mrs. Prim. and I see, yea I see with the eye of my inCol. F. I wish it were over. ward man, that satan will re-buffet her again, Re-enter MRS. PRIM, with Pen and Ink. whenever I withdraw myself from her; and she will, yea, this very damsel will return Miss L. I tremble lest this quaking rogue again to that abomination from whence I have should return, and spoil all. Aside. retriev'd her, as it were, yea, as if it were Obad. Here, friend, do thou write what out of the jaws of the fiend.the spirit prompteth, and I will sign it. Miss L. I must second him. [Aside] What 1) Any gentleman or other found with his hand in his neighbour's pocket, or with any thing that he has taken from the said neighbour's pocket, with an intent to steal, is forthwith taken to the nearest pump, and held with his head below the cold stream, which is pumped upon him, without intermission, till he, the said pickpocket is half drowned. Then all the boys of the parish assemble together and hunt the poor wretch all through! the streets, till he can find some hole to hide himself. The English, as in the time of Richard I. seem to like to take the law into their own hands, witness the frequent boxing-matches in the street. [Col. L. sits down. Col. F. [Reads] This is to certify all 1) This hum is intended to express the long sigh, or rather groan, that is performed by the Quakers, at the end of a speech to which the spirit has moved them. The actor makes this irresistibly comic on the stage, by clasping his hands, sticking his elbows close to his side, his feet close-joined and completely straight, head and eyes raised towards the ceiling, and then, in this position, raises himself on his toes at the beginning of the word hu-and enforces the emphasis by degrees coming down again on his heels at the full point-m his thumbs twirling rapidly in the mean time. whom it may concern, that I do freely Trude. Harkye, miss Lovely, one word with give all my right and title in Anne Lovely, you. [Takes hold of her Hand. to Simon Pure, and my full consent that Col. F. This maiden is my wife, thanks to my she shall become his wife according to the friend Prim, and thou hast no business with form of marriage. Witness my hand. her. [Takes her from him. Obad. That's enough-give me the pen. Trade. His wife! harkye, Mr. Freeman. Per. Why you have made a very fine piece of work of it, Mr. Prim. [Signs it. Enter BETTY, running to Miss LOVELY. Sir P. Married to a quaker! thou art a fine Betty. Oh! madam, madam, here's the fellow to be left guardian to an orphan truly quaking man again: he has brought a coach--there's a husband for a young lady! man, and two or three more. Miss L. Ruin'd past redemption! Col. F. When I have put on my beau clothes, sir Philip, you'll like me betterSir P. Thou wilt make a very scurvy beau [Aside to the Colonel. Col. F. No, no; one minute sooner had-friendspoil'd all; but now-here's company coming, friend, give me the paper. [Going to Prim hastily. Obad. Here it is, Simon; and I wish thee happy with the maiden. Col. F. I believe I can prove it under your hand that you thought me a very fine gentleman in the Park t'other day, about thirty-six minutes after eleven; will you take a pinch, sir Philip?-One of the finest snuff-boxes you Miss L.'Tis done; and now,devil,do thy worst. ever saw. [Offers him snuff. Sir P. Ha, ha, ha! I am overjoyed, 'faith I Enter SIMON PURE, Coachman, and others. am, if thou be'st the gentleman-I own I did Simon. Look thee, friend, I have brought give my consent to the gentleman I brought these people to satisfy thee that I am not that here to-day-but whether this is he I can't be impostor which thou didst take me for: this positive. is the man that did drive the leathern con- Obad. Canst thou not!-Now I think thou veniency, and brought me from Bristol-and art a fine fellow to be left guardian to an orthis is phan.-Thou shallow-brain'd shuttlecock, he may Col. F. Lookye, friend, to save the court be a pickpocket for aught thou dost know. the trouble of examining witnesses-I plead Per. You would have been two rare fellows guilty, ha, ha! to have been entrusted with the sole manage Obad. How's this? Is not thy name Pure then? ment of her fortune, would ye not, think ye? Col. F. No, really, sir; I only made bold But Mr. Tradelove and myself shall take care with this gentleman's name-but here I give of her portion. Free. I did so, and I am sure he will be here, if you'll have a little patience. it up safe and sound: it has done the business Trade. Ay, ay, so we will-Didn't you tell I had occasion` for, and now I intend to wear me the Dutch merchant desired me to meet my own, which shall be at his service upon him here, Mr. Freeman? the same occasion at any time.-Ha, ha, ha! Simon. Oh! the wickedness of the age! [Exit Coachman, etc. Obad. I am struck dumb with thy impudence, Anne; thou hast deceiv'd me-and perchance undone thyself. Cot. F. What, is Mr. Tradelove impatient? Nay, then, ib ben gereet voor your, he be, Jan Van Timtamtirelereletta Heer Van Feignwell, vergeeten! Mrs. P. Thou art a dissembling baggage, and Trade. Oh! pox of the name! what have [Exit. you trick'd me too, Mr. Freeman? shame will overtake thee. Simon. I am grieved to see thy wife so much troubled: I will follow and console her. [Exit. Enter Servant. Serv. Thy brother guardians inquire for thee: here is another man with them. Miss L. Who can that other man be? Enter SIR PHILIP MODELOVE, TRADELOVE, Free. Is all safe? Did my letter do you ser vice? Col. F. Trick'd, Mr. Tradelove! did not I give you two thousand pounds for your consent fairly? And now do you tell a gentleman he has trick'd you? Per. So, so, you are a pretty guardian, 'faith, to sell your charge: what, did you look upon her as part of your stock? Obad. Ha, ha, ha! I am glad thy knavery is found out, however I confess the maiden overreached me, and I had no sinister end at all. Per. Ay, ay, one thing or other over-reached you all,--but I'll take care he shall never finger a penny of her money, I warrant youover-reach'd, quotha! Why I might have been [Aside to the Colonel, over-reach'd too, if I had no more wit: I don't Col F. All, all's safe! ample service. [Aside. know but this very fellow may be him that Sir P. Miss Nancy, how dost do, child? was directed to me from Grand Cairo t'other Miss L. Don't call me miss, friend Philip; my name is Anne, thou knowest.— Sir P. What, is the girl metamorphos'd? Miss L. I wish thou wert so metamorphos'd. Ah! Philip, throw off that gaudy attire, and wear the clothes becoming thy age. day. Ha, ha, ha! Col. F. The very same. Per. Are you so, sir? but your trick would not pass upon me. Col. F. No, as you say, at that time it did not, that was not my lucky hour-but, barkye, Obad. I am ashamed to see these men. [Aside. sir, I must let you into one secret-you may Sir P. My age! the woman is possess'd. keep honest John Tradescant's coat on, for Col. F. No, thou art possess'd rather, friend. your uncle, sir Toby Periwinkle, is not dead -so the charge of mourning will be saved, dam, who understands dress and good breedha, ha, ha!-Don't you remember Mr. Pillage, ing. I was resolved she should have one of your uncle's steward? Ha, ha, ha! my choosing. Per. Not dead! I begin to fear I am trick'd too. Col. F. Don't you remember the signing of help'd up. a lease, Mr. Periwinkle? Trade. A beau! nay, then, she is finely Miss L. Why beaus are great encouragers Per. Well, and what signifies that lease, if of trade, sir, ha, ha, ha! my uncle is not dead?-Ha! I am sure it was a lease I signed.— Col. F. Ay, but it was a lease for life, sir, and of this beautiful tenement, I thank you. [Taking hold of Miss Lovely. Omnes. Ha, ha, ha! Neighbour's fare. Free. So then, I find, you are all trick'd, ha, ha! Per, I am certain I read as plain a lease as ever I read in my life. Col. F. Lookye, gentlemen-I am the person who can give the best account of myself; and I must beg sir Philip's pardon, when I tell him, that I have as much aversion to what he calls dress and breeding, as I have to the enemies of my religion. I have had the honour to serve his majesty, and headed a regiment of the bravest fellows that ever push'd bayonet in the throat of a Frenchman; and Col. F. You read a lease I grant you; but notwithstanding the fortune this lady brings you sign'd this contract. [Showing a Paper. Per. How durst you put this trick upon me, Mr. Freeman? Didn't you tell me my uncle was dying? Free. And would tell you twice as much to serve my friend, ha, ha! Sir. P. What, the learned and famous Mr. Periwinkle chous'd too!-Ha, ha, ha!-I shall die with laughing, ha, ha, ha! Trade. Well, since you have out-witted us all, pray you what and who are you, sir? Sir P. Sir, the gentleman is a fine gentleman.—I am glad you have got a person, ma-! me, whenever my country wants my aid, this And now, my fair, if thou'lt but deign to smile, THE BUSY BODY, ACTED at the Theatre Royal in Drurylane 1709. At the rehearsal of it, Mr. Wilks had so mean on opinion of his part (Sir George Airy) that one morning in a passion he threw it off the stage into the pit, and swore that nobody would sit to hear such stuff. The poor frighted poetess (Mrs. Centlivre) begged him with tears to take it up again, which he did mutteringly and about the latter end of April the play was acted for the first time. There had been scarcely any thing mentioned of it in the town before it came out; but those who had heard of it, were told it was a silly thing written by a woman; that the players had no opinion of it, etc. and on the first day there was a very poor house, scat cely charges. Under these circumstances it cannot be supposed that the play appeared to much advantage; the audience only came there for want of another place to go to; but without any expectation of being much diverted. They were yawning at the beginning of it, but were agreeably surprised, more and more every act, till at last the house rung with as much applause as was possible to be given by so thin an audience. The next day there was a better house, and the third crowded for the benefit of the author, and so it continued till the thirteenth. To do justice to the author, it must be confessed, that although the language of it is very indifferent, and the plot mingled with some improbabilities, yet the amusing sprightliness of business, and the natural impertinence in the character of Marplot, make considerable amends for the above-mentioned deficiencies, and render it even to this hour an entertaining performance. The dumb scene of Sir George with Miranda, and the history of the garden gate, are both borrowed from Ben Jonson's comedy of The Devil's an Ass. This play was dedicated to Lord Somers. Sir Richard Steele, speaking of it, says, "The plot and the incidents are laid with that subtility of spirit which is peculiar to females of wit, and is very seldom well performed by those of the other sex, in whom craft in love is an act of intention, and not, as with women. the effect of natme and instinct." Sir G. There are some men, Charles, whom fortune has left free from inquietudes, who are diligently studious to find out ways and means to make themselves uneasy. Enter SIR GEORGE AIRY, meeting CHARLES Charles. Ha! sir George Airy a birding Charles. Is it possible that any thing in nathus early! What forbidden game rous'd you ture can ruffle the temper of a man whom so soon? for no lawful occasion could invite the four seasons of the year compliment with a person of your figure abroad at such un- as many thousand pounds; nay, and a father fashionable hours 1). at rest with his ancestors? 1) The people of fashion in London, in order to avoid their aversion, mixing with persons of any other rank than their own, turn the night into day, and the day into night; so that noon with them is generally early in the morning, and in their calculation of time, the words afternoon and night are entirely left out 1 Sir G. Why, there it is now! a man that he intend to do with Miranda? Is she to be wants money thinks none can be unhappy sold in private, or will he put her up by way that has it; but my affairs are in such a whim- of auction, at who bids most? If so, 'egad I'm sical posture that it will require a calculation for him; my gold, as you say, shall be subof my nativity to find if my gold will relieve servient to my pleasure. me or not. Charles. To deal ingenuously with you, sir Charles. Ha, ha, ha! never consult the stars George, I know very little of her or home; about that; gold has a power beyond them, for since my uncle's death, and my return Then what can thy business be that gold won't from travel, I have never been well with my serve thee in? father; he thinks my expenses too great, and Sir G. Why I'm in love. I his allowance too little; he never sees me Charles. In love!-Ha, ha, ha, ha! in love! but he quarrels, and to avoid that I shun his -Ha, ha, ha, ha! with what, pr'ythee? a house as much as possible. The report is he cherub? intends to marry her himself. Sir G. No; with a woman. and gold not help thee? Sir G. Can she consent to it? Charles. Yes, faith, so they say: but I tell you I am wholly ignorant of the matter. I Sir G. But suppose I'm in love with two- fancy she plays the mother-in-law already, Charles. Ay, if thou'rt in love with two and sets the old gentleman on to do mischief. hundred, gold will fetch 'em, I warrant thee, Sir G. Then I have your free consent to boy. But who are they? who are they? come. get her? Sir G. One is a lady whose face I never Charles. Ay, and my helping hand, if ocsaw, but witty to a miracle; the other beauti-casion be. ful as Venus Charles. And a fool Sir G. Poh! yonder's a fool coming this way; let's avoid him. Sir G. For aught I know, for I never spoke Charles. What, Marplot? No, no, he's my to her; but you can inform me. I am charm'd instrument; there's a thousand conveniences by the wit of the one, and die for the beauty in him; he'll lend me his money when he has of the other. any, run of my errands, and be proud on it; Charles. And pray which are you in quest in short, he'll pimp for me, lie for me, drink of now? for me, do any thing but fight for me; and that I trust to my own arm, for. Sir G. I prefer the sensual pleasure; I'm for her I've seen, who is thy father's ward, Miranda. Sir G. Nay, then he's to be endured; I never knew his qualifications before. Charles. Nay, then I pity you; for the Jew, my father, will no more part with her and Enter MARPLOT, with a Patch across his thirty thousand pounds than he would with a guinea to keep me from starving. Sir G. Now you see gold can't do every thing, Charles. Charles, Yes; for 'tis her gold that bars my father's gate against you. Face. Mar. Dear Charles, yours-Ha! sir George Airy! the man in the world I have an ambition to be known to! [Aside] Give me thy hand, dear boy. Charles. A good assurance! But harkye, how Sir G. Why, if he be this avaricious wretch, came your beautiful countenance clouded in how cam'st thou by such a liberal education? the wrong place? Charles. Not a souse out of his pocket, I Mar. I must confess 'tis a little mal-a-proassure you: I had an uncle who defray'd that pos; but no matter for that. A word with charge; but for some little wildness of youth, you, Charles. Pr'ythee introduce me to sir though he made me his heir, left dad my George-he is a man of wit, and I'd give ten guardian till I came to years of discretion, guineas towhich I presume the old gentleman will never think I am; and now he has got the estate into his clutches, it does, me no more good than if it lay in Prester John's 1) dominions. Sir G. What, canst thou find no stratagem to redeem it? Charles. When you have 'em, you mean. Mar. Ay, when I have 'em; pugh, pox, you cut the thread of my discourse-I would give ten guineas, I say, to be rank'd in his acquaintance, But, pr'ythee, introduce me. Charles. Well, on condition you'll give us a true account how you came by that mourning nose, I will. Charles. I have made many essays to no purpose; though want, the mistress of invention, still tempts me on, yet still the old fox is too cunning for me. I am upon my last project, which if it fails, then for my last re-a fuge, a brown musket. 2) Sir G. What is't? can I assist thee? Charles. Not yet; when you can, I have confidence enough in you to ask it. Mar. I'll do it. Charles. Sir George, here's a gentleman bas passionate desire to kiss your hand. Sir G. Oh! I honour men of the sword! and I presume this gentleman is lately come from Spain or Portugal-by his scars, Mar. No really, sir George, mine sprung Sir G. I am always ready. But what does from civil fury. Happening last night into the groom porter's-I had a strong inclination to 1) A certain priest of the name of John, is said to have go ten guineas with a sort of a, sort of atravelled into the mountains of Thibet, and there to kind of a milksop, as I thought. A pox of the dice! he flung out, and my pockets being empty, as Charles knows they often are, he 2) The soldiers call their musket, "brown Bess;" i proved a surly North Briton, and broke my have founded the religion of Dalai Lama, sometime in the 11th century. A farther account is to be seen in the History of the Church. means here to enlist for a soldier. face for my deficiency. Sir G. Ha, ha! and did not you draw? Mar. Draw, sir! why I did but lay my hand upon my sword to make a swift retreat, and he roar'd out. Now the deel a ma sal, sir, gin ye touch yer steel I se whip mine through yer wem. 1) Sir G. What was it, pr'ythee? Mar. Nay, Charles, now don't expose your friend. Charles. Why, you must know I had lent a certain merchant my hunting horses, and was to have met his wife in his absence. Sending him along with my groom to make the Sir G. Ha, ha, ha! Charles. Ha, ha, ha, ha! Safe was the word. compliment, and to deliver a letter to the lady So you walk'd off, I suppose. at the same time, what does he do but gives Mar. Yes, for I avoid fighting, purely to be the husband the letter and offers her the horses! serviceable to my friends, you knowMur, Why to be sure I did offer her the Sir G. Your friends are much obliged to horses, and I remember you was even with you, sir: I hope you'll rank me in that number. me, for you denied the letter to be yours, and Mar. Sir George, a bow from the side-box,) swore I had a design upon her, which my or to be seen in your chariot, binds me ever bones paid for. yours. Sir G. Trifles; you may command 'em when you please. Charles. Come, sir George, let's walk round if you are not engaged, for I have sent my man upon a little earnest business, and I have ordered him to bring me the answer into the Park. Charles. Provided he may command you. Mar. Me! why I live for no other purpose -Sir George, I have the honour to be cares- Mar. Business! and I not know it! 'Egad sed by most of the reigning toasts) of the I'll watch him. [Aside. town: I'll tell 'em you are the finest gentleman- Sir G. I must beg your pardon, Charles, I am to meet your father. Sir G. No, no, pr'ythee let me alone to tell the ladies-my parts-Can you convey a letter upon occasion, or deliver a message with an air of business, ha? Mar. With the assurance of a page and the gravity of a statesman. Sir G. You know Miranda? Mar. What! my sister ward? why, her guardian is mine; we are fellow sufferers. Ah, he is a covetous, cheating, sanctified curmudgeon that sir Francis Gripe is a damn'd old -hypocritical Charles. Hold, hold; I suppose, friend, you forget that he is my father. Charles. My father! Sir G. Ay, and about the oddest bargain perhaps you ever heard of; but I'll not impart till I know the success. Mar, What can his business be with sir Francis? Now would I give all the world to know it. Why the devil should not one know every man's concerns! [Aside. Charles. Prosperity to't, whate'er it be: I have private affairs too: over a bottle we'll compare notes, Mar. Charles knows I love a glass as well as any man; I'll make one; shall it be tonight? I long to know their secrets. [Aside. Enter WHIsper. Mar. I ask your pardon, Charles, but it is for your sake I hate him. Well, I say, the world is mistaken in him; his outside piety makes him every man's executor, and his in- Whis. Sir, sir, Mrs. Patch says Isabinda's side cunning makes him every heir's gaoler. Spanish father has quite spoiled the plot, and 'Egad, Charles, I'm half persuaded that thour't she can't meet you in the Park, but he infalsome ward too, and never of his getting-for libly will go out this afternoon, she says: but never were two things so unlike as you and I must step again to know the hour. your father; he scrapes up every thing, and Mar. What did Whisper say now? I shall thou spend'st every thing; every body is in- go stark mad if I'm not let into the secret. debted to him, and thou art indebted to every body. Charles. You are very free, Mr. Marplot. Mar. Ay, I give and take, Charles—you may be as free with me, you know. Sir G. A pleasant fellow. Charles. The dog is diverting sometimes, or there would be no enduring his impertinence. He is pressing to be employed, and willing to execute; but some ill fate generally attends all he undertakes, and he oftener spoils an intrigue than helps it. Mar. I have always your good word, but if I miscarry 'tis none of my fault; I follow my instructions. Charles. Yes, witness the merchant's wife. 1) Now the devil have my soul, sir, if ye touch your 2) The side-box at the Theatre, where the English belles and beaux sport their best looks, and dresses. [Aside. Charles. Curst misfortune! Mar. Curst! what's curst, Charles? Charles. Come along with me, my heart feels pleasure at her name. Sir George, yours; we'll meet at the old place, the usual hour. Sir G. Agreed. I think I see sir Francis yonder. [Exit. Charles. Marplot, you must excuse me; I am engag'd. [Exit. Mar. Engag'd! 'Egad, I'll engage my life I'll know what your engagement is. [Exit. Mir. Let the chair wait. My servant that dogg'd sir George said he was in the Park. Enter PATCH. Ha! miss Patch alone! did not you tell me you had contrived a way to bring Isabinda to the Park? Patch. Oh, madam, your ladyship can't imagine what wretched disappointment we have met with! Just as I had fetch'd a suit of 3) Ladies who on account of their beauty (sometimes on my clothes for a disguise, comes my old master account of their philanthropy) used to be toasted (to into his closet, which is right against her have their healths drunk), in all fashionable societies of gentlemen after dinner. chamber door: this struck us into a terrible |