JOCULO.
Bell.
My good old Friend, I was quite enchanted; 'tis true
she's always lovely, but that Moment a thousand new Graces
redoubl'd the Charm of her Beauty; her Eyes beam'd with irresistible
Lustre; when she danc'd all Nature seem'd to smile with
Approbation;
The Forest Savages, in Raptures fix'd;
Stood listning to the Musick of her Voice.
Ev'n Orpheus' Lute, tho' strung with heavenly Art,
Whose golden Touch could melt obdurate Steel,
Make Tigers tame, and huge Leviathans
Forsake unsounded Deeps to dance on Sands,
Fell still far short of her melodious Strain.
Jocu.
Soh! 'tis all over—he's got into blank Verse—My
Lord, one Word with you; I humbly request I may be discharged
this Moment from having any thing more to do in this
-- 17 --
Affair; for, since you are so far gone as to talk Poetry, I'm sure
you are past hearing Reason any longer.
Bell.
In short every thing she did, every thing she said, had
such Charms to-day, that I thought I should not possibly have
maintain'd my Resolution, but thrown my self at her Feet, and
confess'd my Passion at once.
Lucen.
And then she would have trampl'd upon you—No,
keep but your Disdain up, and she'll soon lower hers.
Jocu.
Did not I see to-day how she labour'd to trap you?
There was a Design against you in every Inch of her; there was
not a Pin about her but what was pointed full tilt at your
Heart. These Women are whimsical kind of Animals, my
Lord; we spoil 'em; yes, we quite spoil 'em, indeed: If we
were but wise enough to neglect 'em a little we should have
'em hunting us in Troops.
Lucen.
Joculo is in the right, my Lord; you have hit upon
the best Method in the World, and I'll warrant it succeeds, if
you are but firm in't.
Jocu.
In the mean time I'll go and hear what she says.
[Exit.
Enter PROTHEUS.
Bell.
Well, Lord Protheus, did you mark the charming Lucilia
at the Sports? What think you of that Lady?
Proth.
Why? would you buy her that you enquire after her?
Bell.
Is such a Jewel to be purchas'd, Protheus?
Proth.
Yes, and a Case to put it in too.
Bell.
You think it Jest, but pr'ythee tell me truly how thou
likest her.
Proth.
Why, I say that were she other than what she is she
would be unhandsome; and being no other than what she is
I don't like her—There's her Cousin, if she were not possess'd
with such a Fury of a Tongue, exceeds her as much in
Beauty as the first of May doth the last of December—But I
hope you have no intent to turn Husband, have you?
Bell.
I would scarce trust my self, tho' sworn to the contrary,
if her Person were the Portion.
Proth.
Um—Hath not the World one Man but what will
burthen his Brows; shall I never see a Batchelor of threescore
again?
Bell.
Thou wast ever an obstinate Foe in despite of Beauty.
-- 18 --
Proth.
That a Woman conceived me, I thank her; that she
brought me up, I likewise give her most humble Thanks;
but that I will wear my Cap with Suspicion on their Account
all Women must pardon me: Because I will not do
them the Wrong to mistrust any, I will do myself the Right
to trust none.
Lucen.
Come, come, young Lord, we shall see you some
time or other looking pale with Love.
Proth.
With Anger, with Sickness, or with Hunger, good
Lucentius, but not with Love; prove that I ever lose more
Blood with Love than I get again in an Evening's Drinking,
and I'll give you leave to pick out my Eyes with a Ballad-maker's
Pen, and hang me up at the Door of a Brothel for
the Sign of a blind Cupid.
Bell.
Well, if ever thou dost fall from this Resolution—
Proth.
O let me be treated most scurvily; get a Picture of
me painted as vilely as possible, set it up at the publick Market,
and signify under in great Letters—THIS IS PROTHEUS
THE MARRY'D MAN.
Bell.
The Lady Liberia has a Quarrel with you for your Behaviour
to her at the Dance to-day.
Proth.
O she misus'd me past the Indurance of a Block; an
Oak with but one green Leaf on it would have answer'd her;
my very Visor began to assume Life, and scold with her; she
told me that I was the City-Jester, and that I was duller than
a great Thaw; that my only Gift was devising impossible Slanders;
that I both pleas'd Men and anger'd 'em; and that they
first laugh'd at me, and then broke my Bones.
Bell. Lucen.
Ha, ha, ha!
Proth.
Yes, huddling Jest upon Jest with such irresistible-Fury
on me, that I stood like a Man at a Mark with a whole Army
shooting at me.—But yonder I see her; my Lord, farewel,
I must get without reach of her.
[Exit.
Lucen.
And see, my Lord, Lucilia is coming this way with
Joculo; let us turn carelesly into the Walks without shewing
any Desire of joining 'em.—Come, come, what d'ye look so
earnestly that way for now?—Away, away: O' my Conscience
Men of One-and-twenty want Tutors more than when
they are Boys.
[Exeunt.
-- 19 --
Enter LUCILIA and JOCULO.
Lucil.
Are you familiar, Joculo, with Lord Bellario?
Jocu.
O lack-a-day, Madam, we are old Acquaintance.
Lucil.
What was the Reason he did not walk on hither, but
turn'd another way when he saw me coming?
Jocu.
'Tis a whimsical Mortal, Madam, and loves to be alone.
Lucil.
I must humble his Arrogance, Joculo.
Jocu.
Why troth, Madam, I think you should—if you
could.
Lucil.
If I could, Joculo!
Jocu.
Why to tell you the truth, Madam, you would have
a tight Task of it.
Lucil.
How so?
Jocu.
How! why 'tis the proudest Animal you ever
came nigh; he thinks no body in the World is good enough for
him; I wonder he condescends to let the Earth bear him, for
my part.
Lucil.
And does he never speak of me?
Jocu.
He! no not he.
Lucil.
Did he say nothing of my Singing and Dancing?
Jocu.
No, not a Syllable.
Lucil.
Not a Syllable?
Jocu.
O yes, I lye, he did, now I recollect.
Lucil.
What, pr'ythee, what?
Jocu.
Why, he said that you interrupted their Sport.
Lucil.
Had he the Insolence to say that?
Jocu.
Yes, and that Women had no Business at such manly
Exercises.
Lucil.
Insufferable!
Jocu.
Why he's as hard as a Flint, Madam; there's ne'er a
Rock in our Mountains that's so insensible as he is.
Lucil.
There he walks.
Jocu.
Ay, d'ye see now how he goes by without taking any
notice of you?
Lucil.
I'd give the World to triumph over him.
Jocu.
Why truly the Man's well made; he has a good Face
and Air enough.—But, Madam, if you should bring him
to love you, pray what would you do?
-- 20 --
Lucil.
O, then I should delight my self with triumphing over
his Vanity, and exercise such Cruelties on him—
Jocu.
He'll never yield.
Lucil.
Joculo, he must, he shall.
Jocu.
No, he won't indeed; I know him too well; 'twill be
all Labour in vain.
Lucil.
Pr'ythee, Joculo, invent some Method or other; think
of some way that we may lay a Snare for him.
Jocu.
Let me consider a little.—What can I devise—
Humph!
Lucil.
Well, what is it?
Jocu.
Lack-a-day, Madam, you are too hasty, my Brain is
more deliberate.—Oh, now I have it; we must—no that won't
do: But if you were to go—
Lucil.
Whither?
Jocu.
Whither! ay, that's true, that's a foolish Design too.—
But can't you—
Lucil.
What?
Jocu.
Nothing at all—that won't do neither.
Lucil.
Have done with this idle Stuff, your Jesting is unseasonable
now.
Jocu.
Why, Madam, how should such a poor Fool as I give
you any Advice? Besides, it would not be politick if I could;
you know, Madam, that People of your Station give but scurvy
Wages for Counsel in Love-Affairs, and a preaching Courtier
consults his own Interest very ill by it: All I know is, that
you great People will do in that Case just as you will, let the
World cry Shame on't ever so much.
Lucil.
I'm so perplex'd I know not what to do.—But see,
he vouchsafes to turn this way at last.
Jocu.
Ay, that's sheer Accident; he does not do it on purpose,
I'm sure
Enter BELLARIO and LUCENTIUS.
Lucen.
If you must accost her, remember your Part; and for
fear you should forget it, don't stay long with her.
Lucil.
I was thinking, my Lord, 'twas something very extraordinary
for one of your Age and Galantry to be at War
with our Sex.
Bell.
You, Madam, have certainly no reason to be surpris'd
at it, since 'tis so agreeable to your own Sentiments.
-- 21 --
Lucil.
What's a Glory in our Sex, my Lord, is a Crime in
yours; Homage and Love are due to our Beauty, tho' we resolve
to continue insensible to 'em.
Bell.
My Opinion would be different, Madam; If I had no
design of returning Love, I should not care to receive it.
Lucil.
Why so?
Bell.
Because I would not willingly be ungrateful.
Lucil.
So that to avoid Ingratitude you'd be sure to love
those who had an Affection for you.
Bell.
Not at all, Madam; I only say I would not willingly
be ungrateful; but perhaps I should sooner be that than amorous.
Lucil.
What, suppose a Person of Merit and Beauty—
Bell.
No, Madam, Liberty's the only Mistress to whom I
consecrate my Vows; and should lavish Nature pour out all
her Charms to form a perfect Beauty; should Wisdom's self inspire
the matchless Frame, and Fortune crown her with the
noblest Honours; should such a Miracle of all that's lovely
dote on me with the utmost Tenderness, it would not touch
my Heart.
Jocu.
Duce take him! I could give him a Slap o' the Chops
with all my Soul.
[Aside.
Lucil.
Hitherto then, my Lord, we have shew'd a Conformity
of Sentiments; but I'll now intrust you with a Secret
that may a little surprise you: The Merit of a certain young
Nobleman of Mantua has had such an Effect upon me, that I
am become in some measure sensible of what I always disdain'd:
I am now therefore ready to answer my Father's ardent
Wishes.—But you, I suppose, will condemn my Design.
Bell.
You might make such a Choice, Madam, as I should
highly approve of.
Lucil.
Not to hold you in suspence, Sir, 'tis Lord Clodio I
declare for.
Bell.
Distraction!
Lucil.
My Invention has succeeded; I see he's disturb'd.
[Aside.
Jocu.
Good, good, Madam!
Lucen.
For shame, for shame! take Courage, or you're undone.
[To Bell.
-- 22 --
Lucil.
Don't you think me in the right, my Lord? Has not
he all the Merit one could wish for?
Jocu. [Running first to Bellario, and then to Lucilia.]
Courage,
Courage! my Lord.—He's in for't, Madam.—Don't be
dishearten'd, I tell you.
Lucen.
Come, come, recover, recover, and answer my Lord.
Lucil.
How comes it that you seem so surpris'd at what I say,
Sir?—I have gain'd the Victory at last.
[Aside.
Bell.
Why the Astonishment, Madam, to find two Souls so
alike in every respect as ours, which have shew'd at the same
time a Defiance of Love, and in the very same Moment have
both submitted to its Power.—A single Glance, Madam,
of your lovely Cousin, the charming Liberia, hath quite got
the better of all my Resolutions; and I—
Lucil.
How! Liberia!
Bell.
Yes, Madam: Now we can neither of us reproach
the other. As I infinitely admire your Choice I hope you'll
likewise approve of mine—And would you be but so good as
to plead my Cause, and help to make the Fair reward my Passion!
—This Moment I'll attend your Father, and strive to
gain his Favour in my Suit.
Lucen. [Aside.]
Bessings on that Heart! brave Heart! bravely
done! brave Heart!
[Exeunt Bell. and Lucen.
Jocu.
'Sbud! he has stung her, he's even with her, i'gad!
[Aside.
Lucil.
'Tis impossible, 'tis not to be believ'd.—Shall another
run away with a Heart that I could not conquer?
Enter GRATIANO.
Lucil.
I'm glad you're come, Sir, I have a Request to make
you which I hope you'll grant me: 'Tis, my Lord, not to listen
to Bellario's Request, nor to suffer him to marry Liberia, whom
he's in love with.
Grati.
Why should you be against that, Daughter, since
you'll not accept of him yourself?
Lucil.
Because I hate Bellario, and am determin'd to thwart
his Pretensions.
Grati.
Hate Bellario, Daughter!
Lucil.
Yes, from my Heart.
Grati.
What has he done to make you hate him?
-- 23 --
Lucil.
He has slighted me, Sir.—'Tis a palpable Affront to
make his Addresses in this Court to any one but me.
Grati.
You'll accept of none.
Lucil.
No matter, my Lord, he ought to have let me had the
Glory of rejecting 'em however.
Grati.
Well, well, be easy, Daughter; I'll go find Bellario,
and persuade him to drop his Pretensions, I warrant.
[Exit.
Lucil.
My Lord you give me Transport by your Kindness.
Jocu.
Dear Heart, Madam, I have thought of a way of preventing
his being Liberia's effectually.
Lucil.
Which way, Joculo?
Jocu.
By taking him yourself, which I fansy would not go
much against the Grain.
Lucil.
Have you the Insolence to utter such a thing! Out of
my Presence this Moment.
Jocu.
So, I am a disgrac'd Favourite at once, but I deserve
it; I might have been a better Courtier by this time, and learnt
never to speak my Thoughts.—Madam, I—
Lucil.
Silence, Sir, and leave me alone. [Exit Joculo.]
What unusual Emotions is my Heart disorder'd with! Is it
not what I was just now told it was? No, 'tis impossible;
I can never be guilty of so infamous a Weakness: I who
have seen, unmov'd, so many Lovers at my Feet, whom
Sighs, Vows, Homage, and Adoration could never touch;
and shall Disdain triumph over me? No, no, no, I know I
don't love him; 'tis only Resentment, and therefore I'll
think of nothing but how to humble the presumptuous Rebel.
[Exit.
Scene 2
SCENE changes.
Enter JOCULO and DELIA.
Jocu.
Harkye, dear Madam Delia, a Word with you, if you
please.
Delia.
No Impertinence, Sir.
Jocu. [Aside.]
Hah! Madam Pert! A true Abigail every
Inch of her: I'll have a little Diversion with her since that's
the Case.—Harkye, Mrs. Delia, I would advise you not to be
so coy; 'tis quite out of fashion, upon my Honour it is.—Besides
-- 24 --
you can't afford it now-a-days; if you don't get you a
Husband before you are One-and-twenty you'll be sure never
to get one at all.
Delia.
Hah! and why so pray, Sir?
Jocu.
Because you can neither keep your Features or Complexion
any longer.
Delia.
No, for what reason, wise Sir?
Jocu.
By reason of your playing Cards all Night, Madam,
and drinking Strong-Waters all Day.
Delia.
Fool, farewel, I keep no such unmannerly Company.
[Running from him.
Jocu. [Catching her.]
Nay, pr'ythee stay you dear hard-hearted
Creature; if Gremio was to desire it you'd consent, I
warrant ye.
Delia.
And what then, art thou a Gremio? No, he diverts
and pleases me with his sweet Voice; you deafen me with your
impertinent Clack; I hate and despise a Fool's Wit as much as
I do his ridiculous Coat: When you sing as sweetly as Gremio
does I'll promise to stay and hear you.
Jocu.
Indeed, Delia, you must stay now.
Delia.
Well, I will stay then, provided thou wilt promise
me one thing.
Jocu.
Ay, ay, with all my Heart.—But hold, what is it
tho?
Delia.
Why, that you'll go, Booby.
Jocu.
Heyday, Madam Delia, that is not right for you to
turn Jester, and take my Business off my Hands.
Delia.
You should give your Mistress better Jests then, or
else her Fool's Jacket is ill bestow'd.
Jocu.
O Mistress Delia, the Business of a Jester is not like
that of a Chambermaid; to lye well, and jest well, are two
different things.—'Tis much easier to cheat People, than to
make 'em laugh.
Delia.
Silence, Impudence, and don't open thy booby Chops,
or else I'll leave the Place this Moment.
Jocu.
What! not speak?
Delia.
No, be sure you don't.
Jocu.
Well, I won't then.
[Courting her in dumb Shew.
Delia.
Pr'ythee don't distort that little scurvy Carcase of
thine; thou need'st not take pains to make ugly Faces, for thou
-- 25 --
hast one ready made to thy Hands.—Where is this Gremio? I
wish he was here to entertain one with a Song.
Jocu.
Ay, all your fine Ladies now-a-days are to be taken
by the Ear: If a Man has but a tuneable Gullet 'tis enough.
'Sbobs! why can't I sing as well as another? Han't I a pair
of Lungs? Han't I a Throat? Han't I a Tongue as well as
he? And I was not born in England, was I? Yes, yes, I can
sing, I'm sure I can, tho' no body has happen'd to find it out
yet, and tho' I don't know it myself neither.
Delia.
I should be glad to hear thee for the rarity of the
thing. But harkye, Joculo, there's but one way you can possibly
gain my Affection; I want the glory of having somebody
die for Love of me; that's a Pleasure I have never had
yet, and I find I should love a Man prodigiously that lov'd
me enough to hang or drown himself for me.
Jocu.
You'd love a Man that was to kill himself for you,
would you?
Delia.
Yes.
Jocu.
And that's the only thing that can please you; is it,
Madam?
Delia.
Ay.
Jocu.
Um—I believe 'twill be some time then before I
shall please you that way. Ha, ha, ha! kill myself, with a
murrain! no, I'm not quite enough in Love to be such a Fool
as that comes to neither. Let your Song-monger sing some
dismal Ditty now, and then cut his warbling Gullet in two
for your sake.—Since, Madam Delia, you must needs have
a Sacrifice, I don't know a Calf that's fitter for the purpose.
Delia.
Is this the Heroism of a Lover, Joculo, when you
had such an Opportunity to eternalise yourself?
Jocu.
I don't know whether 'tis good Heroism or not, but
I'm sure 'tis good Politicks; I'd rather People should say—
In this Place Joculo was cowardly enough to refuse to kill himself
at Delia's Request, than—On this illustrious Spot of Earth
the heroick Joculo shot himself thro' the Head for Love of the
beauteous Delia.
Delia.
Very well!
Jocu.
Yes, with Glory's leave, I'd rather live two Days
in the World than a thousand Years in History; so Madam
-- 26 --
Delia, your Servant, I'll ev'n go seek out a Mistress that will
be contented with what a Man can do for her in this Life;
and you may take your Sign of a Man, your Echo, your
Semiquaver, to pipe with.
[Exit Joculo.
Delia.
Get thee gone, thou Bear, thou unpolish'd Brute.—
But here comes my Lady and Liberia in earnest Discourse; I
believe I had e'en best leave 'em to themselves.
[Exit.
Enter LUCILIA and LIBERIA.
Lucil.
I have one Request to make you, Cousin, which you
must absolutely grant me; the Lord Bellario loves you, and is
resolv'd to ask you of my Father.
Lib.
The Lord Bellario!
Lucil.
Yes, but I conjure you to reject his Addresses; I desire
and beg it of you that you'll gratify me in this.
Lib.
But, Cousin, if he lov'd you, you would not have him,
you say—which is a Fib, by the by, [Aside.]—and yet
you'll not let him be another's.
Lucil.
No, I can't bear to see him happy with another; if he
was I believe I should die with Vexation; he shan't have the
Pleasure of braving me intirely.
Lib.
Well, well, don't be afraid, my dear Child, I'll not steal
thy Bird's Nest from thee.—And d'ye really think me so blind
as not to see plainly what you'd be at?—Well, I say nothing;
I only wonder how any body can take it in their Head to like
such a gloomy Mortal as that is.—All I know is, that if ever
I do dance the Wedding-Dance, I'll not have an Elbow-Chair
for my Partner.
Lucil.
I must confess, Cousin, he's rather of too solitary a
Disposition.
Lib.
It would be an excellent Man that were made just in
the midway between him and Protheus; the one is too like an
Image, and says nothing; the other too like my Lady's eldest
Son perpetually tatling.
Lucil.
Then half Protheus' Impertinence in Bellario's Mouth,
and half Bellario's Melancholy in Protheus' Face.—
Lib.
With a good Leg, white Teeth, and Mony enough in
his Purse, Cousin, would win any Woman in Europe—if he
could but get her Good-will.
Lucil.
O' my Conscience, Cousin, thou will't never get a
Man to venture upon thee with that persecuting Wit of thine.
-- 27 --
Lib.
For which Blessing I am on my Knees every Morning
and Evening.—Lud! I could not endure a Husband with a
Beard on his Face; I had rather lie in Woollen.
Lucil.
Suppose a Husband of no Beard, Child—
Lib.
Ah lah! what should I do with him? dress him in my
cast Clothes, and make him my Waiting-Gentlewoman: He
that hath a Beard is more than a Youth, and he that hath no
Beard must be less than a Man; so that he who's more than a
Youth is not fit for me; and he that's less than a Man, I believe,
I should not be fit for him.
Lucil.
Poor Liberia! doom'd to die a Virgin at last.
Lib.
Even so, my Dear, and then, Heigh for Elysium
where the Batchelors sit, and there live as merry as the Day
is long.—And yet, my Dear, I'm sadly afraid sometimes
that I shan't be able to hold out to the last; I now and then
feel some strange kind of Twitchings about this silly Heart
of mine, that makes me fear I should surrender if I was closely
besieg'd.
SONG.
I like the am'rous Youth that's free
His Passion to declare,
For vig'rous Importunity
Ne'er fails to win the Fair.
None Cupid fear but Fools, the Boy
Hurts none who valiant prove;
He's Sweetness all, and gentle Joy,
To those who're skill'd in Love.
Then love, my Dear, and since Life's Prime
So swiftly flies away,
Let's by the Forelock seize old Time,
And revel whilst we may.
[Exeunt Hand in Hand.
End of the Second Act.
-- 28 --
James Miller [1737], The universal passion. A comedy. As it is Acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane, By His Majesty's Servants (Printed for J. Watts at the Printing-Office in Wild-Court [etc.], London) [word count] [S34700].
