George Farquhar

“ Colonel S. You are always pleasant, Sir Harry; but this transcends yourself: whence proceeds it?
Sir H. Canst thou not guess, my friend? Whence flows all earthly joy? What is the life of man, and soul of pleasure? Woman.——What fires the heart with transport, and the soul with raptures?—Lovely woman——What is the master-stroke and smile of the creation, but charming, virtuous woman?—Methinks, my friend, you relish not my joy. ”

“ Colonel S. I have ne'er a servant here; what shall I do?
Vizard. There's Tom Errand, the porter, that plies at the Blue Posts, one who knows Sir Harry and his haunts very well; you may send a note by him.
Colonel S. Here, you, friend.
Vizard. I have now some business, and must take my leave; I would advise you, nevertheless, against this affair.
Colonel S. No whispering now, nor telling of friends, to prevent us. He, that disappoints a man of an honourable revenge, may love him foolishly like a wife, but never value him as a friend. ”

“ Speak, you rogue, what are you?
Tom. A poor porter, and going of an errand.
Dicky. What errand? Speak, you rogue.
Tom. A fool's errand, I'm afraid.
Clinch. jun. Who sent you?
Tom. A beau, sir.
Dicky. No, no; the rogue has murdered your brother, and stripped him of his clothes.
Clinch. jun. Murdered my brother! Oh, crimini! Oh, my poor Jubilee brother! Stay, by Jupiter Ammon, I'm heir though. Speak, sir, have you killed him? Confess that you have killed him, and I'll give you half a crown.
Tom. Who I, sir? Alack-a-day, sir, I never killed any man, but a carrier's horse once. ”

“ Vizard. Ay, Sir Harry, 'twere a dangerous cast for a beau baronet to be tried by a parcel of greasy, grumbling, bartering boobies, who would hang you, purely because you're a gentleman.
Sir H. Ay, but on t'other hand, I have money enough to bribe the rogues with: so, upon mature deliberation, I would fight for her. But no more of her. Pr'ythee, Vizard, cannot you recommend a friend to a pretty mistress by the bye, till I can find my own? You have store, I'm sure; you cunning poaching dogs make surer game, than we that hunt open and fair. Pr'ythee now, good Vizard. ”

“ Treacherous woman.—Woman, whose composition inverts humanity; their bodies heavenly, but their souls are clay.
Sir H. Come, come, colonel, this is too much: I know your wrongs received from Lurewell may excuse your resentment against her. But it is unpardonable to charge the failings of a single woman upon the whole sex. I have found one, whose virtues——
Colonel S. So have I, Sir Harry; I have found one whose pride's above yielding to a prince. And if lying, dissembling, perjury, and falsehood, be no breaches in a woman's honour, she is as innocent as infancy. ”

“ Oh, my angry dear! turn thy eyes on me—behold thy beau in buskins.
Ang. Behold me, sir; view me with a sober thought, free from those fumes of wine that throw a mist before your sight, and you shall find that every glance from my reproaching eyes is armed with sharp resentment, and with a virtuous pride that looks dishonour dead.
Sir H. This is the first whore in heroics that I have met with. [Aside.] Lookye, madam, as to that slender particular of your virtue, we sha'n't quarrel about it; you may be as virtuous as any woman in England, if you please. ”

“ Sir H. Why, then, madam, the wine has got into my head, and the Cupids into my heart; and unless, by quenching quick my flame, you kindly ease the smart, I'm a lost man, madam.
Ang. Drunkenness, Sir Harry, is the worst pretence a gentleman can make for rudeness; for the excuse is as scandalous as the fault. Therefore, pray consider who you are so free with, sir; a woman of condition, that can call half a dozen footmen upon occasion.
Sir H. Nay, madam, if you have a mind to toss me in a blanket, half a dozen chambermaids would do better service. ”

“ How fares my good old nurse, pray, sir?——Come, Mr. Alderman, for once let a woman advise:—Would you be thought an honest man, banish covetousness, that worst gout of age: avarice is a poor pilfering quality, of the soul, and will, as certainly cheat, as a thief would steal. Would you be thought a reformer of the times, be less severe in your censures, less rigid in your precepts, and more strict in your example.
Sir H. Right, madam, virtue flows freer from imitation than compulsion; of which, colonel, your conversion and mine, are just examples. ”

“ Lady L. Attends, attends, un peu——I remember, Sir Harry, you promised me, in Paris, never to ask that impertinent question again.
Sir H. Pshaw, madam! that was above two months ago: besides, madam, treaties made in France are never kept.
Lady L. Would you marry me, Sir Harry?
Sir H. Oh! I do detest marriage.—But I will marry you.
Lady L. Your word, sir, is not to be relied on: if a gentleman will forfeit his honour in dealings of business, we may reasonably suspect his fidelity in an amour.
Sir H. My honour in dealings of business! Why, madam, I never had any business in all my life. ”

“ Colonel S. You're a happy man, Sir Harry, who are never out of humour. Can nothing move your gall, Sir Harry?
Sir H. Nothing but impossibilities, which are the same as nothing.
Colonel S. What impossibilities?
Sir H. The resurrection of my father to disinherit me, or an act of parliament against wenching. A man of eight thousand pounds per annum to be vexed! No, no; anger and spleen are companions for younger brothers.
Colonel S. Suppose one called you a son of a whore behind your back. ”

“ Sir H. Very true, madam. Was ever man so catechized?
Lady D. And think that Vizard,—villain Vizard,—caused all this, yet lives: that's all: farewell.
Sir H. Stay, madam, [To Lady Darling.] one word; is there no other way to redress your wrongs, but by fighting?
Lady D. Only one, sir; which, if you can think of, you may do: you know the business I entertained you for.
Sir H. I understand you, madam. [Exit Lady Darling.] Here am I brought to a very pretty dilemma. I must commit murder, or commit matrimony; which is the best now? ”

“ Lady L. Nay, sir, your artifices won't avail. I thought, sir, that I gave you caution enough against troubling me with Sir Harry Wildair's company, when I sent his letters back by you; yet you, forsooth, must tell him where I lodged, and expose me again to his impertinent courtship!
Colonel S. I expose you to his courtship!
Lady L. I'll lay my life you'll deny it now. Come, come, sir: a pitiful lie is as scandalous to a red coat, as an oath to a black.
Colonel S. You're all lies; first, your heart is false; your eyes are double; one look belies another ”

“ Sir H. Penelope, I think she's called, and that's a poetical story too. When will you find a poet in our age make a woman so chaste?
Colonel S. Well, Sir Harry, your facetious humour can disguise falsehood, and make calumny pass for satire; but you have promised me ocular demonstration that she favours you: make that good, and I shall then maintain faith and female to be as inconsistent as truth and falsehood.
Sir H. But will you be convinced, if our plot succeeds.
Colonel S. I rely on your word and honour, Sir Harry. ”

“ Lady L. 'Twill be a difficult point, sir, to secure both our honours: you must therefore be disguised, Mr. Alderman.
Smug. Pshaw! no matter; I am an old fornicator; I'm not half so religious as I seem to be. You little rogue, why I'm disguised as I am; our sanctity is all outside, all hypocrisy.
Lady L. No man is seen to come into this house after dark; you must therefore sneak in, when 'tis dark, in woman's clothes.
Smug. With all my heart——I have a suit on purpose, my little cocket; I love to be disguised; 'ecod, I make a very handsome woman, 'ecod, I do. ”

“ You have too much honour, too much in conscience, to be a favourite with the ladies.
Colonel S. I'm assured, sir, she never gave you any encouragement.
Sir H. A man can never hear reason with his sword in his hand. Sheath your weapon; and then, if I don't satisfy you, sheath it in my body.
Colonel S. Give me but demonstration of her granting you any favour, and it is enough.
Sir H. Will you take my word?
Colonel S. Pardon me, sir, I cannot.
Sir H. Will you believe your own eyes?
Colonel S. 'Tis ten to one whether I shall or no; they have deceived me already. ”

“ Vizard. Well then, you must know, that this lady is the greatest beauty in town; her name's Angelica: she that passes for her mother is a private bawd, and called the Lady Darling: she goes for a baronet's lady, (no disparagement to your honour, Sir Harry) I assure you.
Sir H. Pshaw, hang my honour! but what street, what house?
Vizard. Not so fast, Sir Harry; you must have my passport for your admittance, and you'll find my recommendation in a line or two will procure you very civil entertainment; I suppose twenty or thirty pieces handsomely placed, will gain the point. ”

“ Sir H. A very good jest, i'faith—ha! ha! ha!
Clinch. jun. Ay, sir; but the best jest of all is, he knocked out his brains with a hammer—and so he is as dead as a door-nail! ha! ha! ha!
Lady D. And do you laugh, wretch?
Clinch. jun. Laugh! ha! ha! ha! let me see e'er a younger brother in England, that won't laugh at such a jest! ”

“ A-lack-a-day, sir, it shows as ridiculous and haughty for us to imitate our betters in their honour, as in their finery; leave honour to nobility that can support it: we poor folks, Colonel, have no pretence to't; and truly, I think, sir, that your honour should be cashiered with your leading-staff. ”

“ Lady L. Then men are still most generous and brave—and, to reward your truth, an estate of three thousand pounds a year waits your acceptance; and, if I can satisfy you in my past conduct, I shall expect the honourable performance of your promise, and that you will stay with me in England.
Colonel S. Stay—Nor fame, nor glory e'er shall part us more. My honour can be no where more concerned than here.
Enter Sir H. Wildair and Angelica.
Oh, Sir Harry! ”

“ Sir H. I have no mind to meddle in state affairs; but these women will make me a parliament-man in spite of my teeth, on purpose to bring in a bill against their extortion. She tramples under foot that deity which all the world adores—Oh, the blooming pride of beautiful eighteen!—Pshaw!—I'll talk to her no longer; I'll make my market with the old gentlewoman; she knows business better—— [Goes to the Door.] —Here, you, friend: pray, desire the old lady to walk in——Harkye, 'egad, madam, I'll tell your mother.
Enter Lady Darling.
Lady D. Well, Sir Harry, and how d'ye like my daughter, pray? ”

“ Vizard. May obstinacy guard her beauty till wrinkles bury it.—I'll be revenged the very first opportunity.——Saw you the old Lady Darling, her mother?
Serv. Yes, sir, and she was pleased to say much in your commendation.
Vizard. That's my cue——An esteem grafted in old age is hardly rooted out; years stiffen their opinions with their bodies, and old zeal is only to be cozened by young hypocrisy. [Aside.] Run to the Lady Lurewell's, and know of her maid whether her ladyship will be at home this evening. Her beauty is sufficient cure for Angelica's scorn. ”

“ Vizard. The Lady Lurewell his mistress! He loves her: but she loves me.——But he's a baronet, and I plain Vizard; he has a coach, and I walk on foot; I was bred in London, and he in Paris.——That very circumstance has murdered me——Then some stratagem must be laid to divert his pretensions.
Enter Wildair.
Sir H. Pr'ythee, Dick, what makes the colonel so out of humour?
Vizard. Because he's out of pay, I suppose.
Sir H. 'Slife, that's true! ”

“ Colonel S. But suppose you had lost a mistress.
Sir H. Why, then I would get another.
Colonel S. But suppose you were discarded by the woman you love; that would surely trouble you.
Sir H. You're mistaken, Colonel; my love is neither romantically honourable, nor meanly mercenary; 'tis only a pitch of gratitude: while she loves me, I love her; when she desists, the obligation's void.
Colonel S. But to be mistaken in your opinion, sir; if the Lady Lurewell (only suppose it) had discarded you—I say, only suppose it——and had sent your discharge by me. ”

“ Sir H. A lady to inquire for me! Who can this be?
Enter Lady Lurewell.
Oh, madam, this favour is beyond my expectation—to come uninvited to dance at my wedding.——What d'ye gaze at, madam?
Lady L. A monster—if thou'rt married, thou'rt the most perjured wretch that e'er avouch'd deceit.
Sir H. Heyday! Why, madam, I'm sure I never swore to marry you: I made, indeed, a slight promise, upon condition of your granting me a small favour; but you would not consent, you know.
Lady L. How he upbraids me with my shame!—Can you deny your binding vows, when this appears a witness against your falsehood! ”

“ Then Clincher, he adores me with orangerie,
And is consequently a fool;
Then my old merchant, Alderman Smuggler,
He's a compound of both;—out of which medley of lovers, if I don't make good diversion——What d'ye think, Parly?
Parly. I think, madam, I'm like to be very virtuous in your service, if you teach me all those tricks that you use to your lovers.
Lady L. You're a fool, child; observe this, that though a woman swear, forswear, lie, dissemble, backbite, be proud, vain, malicious, any thing, if she secures the main chance, she's still virtuous; that's a maxim. ”

“ Beauty to tempt all mankind, and virtue to beat off their assaults. Oh, Vizard! such a creature!
Enter Sir Harry Wildair, crosses the Stage singing, with Footmen after him.
Heyday! who the devil have we here?
Vizard. The joy of the playhouse, and life of the park; Sir Harry Wildair, newly come from Paris.
Colonel S. Sir Harry Wildair! Did not he go a volunteer some three or four years ago?
Vizard. The same.
Colonel S. Why, he behaved himself very bravely.
Vizard. Why not? Dost think bravery and gaiety are inconsistent? He's a gentleman of most happy circumstances, born to a plentiful estate ”