Air III. Did not you hear of a Jovial Sailor.
'Tis Man alone so subtle wise is,
To act a false dissembling Part;
The Virgin's Thought without Disguise is,
Her very Eyes unveil her Heart.
Then think, O! think, what killing Anguish,
The faithful Heart when doubted knows;
Unkind Suspicions make it languish,
As Heats unkind destroy the Rose.
-- 6 --
Marg.
No more squawling, Mistress, I
see you are over-run with Impertinence,
because you have a Lover or two: I suppose
you are dying for Heartwell; tell me,
or I will pinch thee like a Fairy.
Flo.
If you esteem him, Sister, I vow to
plead for you myself, but you shall have
him.
Marg.
What, Hussey, shall I have your
Leavings?
[Curt'sies.
Enter Worthy.
Sir W.
Why how now? whence grows
this Insolence? Flora, get thee in poor
Girl—she weeps, fye Peg, put off this
devilish Humour, I'm such sure she never cross'd
thee.
Marg.
Her Silence flouts me, and I'll be
reveng'd.
[flies at her.
Sir. W.
What, in my sight too, you ill-natur'd
thing; go Flora, get thee out of
her way.
[Exit Flora.
Marg.
Must I be hinder'd! nay, now I
see she's the Favourite, she must have a Husband—
I see your Care of me, but I'll
find a way to be reveng'd.
[Exit.
Sir W.
Was ever poor Man thus
plagu'd?
-- 7 --
Enter Manley, Heartwell, Archer.
But who's here? my Friend Heartwell!
Heart.
Ay, Sir, soon return'd, you see,
I have brought my Friend Manley to see you.
Man.
Your most humble Servant, Sir.
Sir W.
Manley, you are welcome, I
hear you have lost your Father lately.
Man.
'Tis true, Sir, but I hope to find
another in you; I hear you have a fair
Daughter, call'd Margaret, you know my
Fortune, and if you like my Person, with
your Consent, I'll be your Son-in-law.
Sir W.
I have indeed such a Daughter,
but I have so great a Regard for you, that I
wou'd not put her into your Hands—she'll
make you mad.
Arch.
As for that matter, he's mad enough
already; Sir, he wants no new Medicine
to make him more so.
Man.
Sirrah, you long to have your
Bones broke—I'll venture it, Father—for
so I'll presume to call you; I am as peremptory
as she's wilful, and where two raging
Fires meet, they must consume whatever
feeds their Fury; then tell me, if I get
your Daughter's Consent, what Portion
will you give?
Sir W.
After my Death, one half of my
Estate, and on the Wedding-Day ten thousand
Pounds.
-- 8 --
Man.
And I'll assure her, an equal Jointure;
get but the Writings drawn, I'll engage
to win her Consent.
Sir W.
I wish thee Success, with all my
heart; will you go with us, or shall I send
my Daughter to you?
Man.
Oh! send her by all means.
[Ex.
Heart.
Why, Manley, this is a most desperate
Venture.
Man.
Not in the least—not in the
least—why, say she rail, I'll swear she
sings, as sweet as a Nihtingale; or shou'd
she frown, I'll say, she's as mild as a Summer's
Sky—if silent, I'll commend her Volubility;
and, if she scorns to wed me, I'll
ask what Hour she'll fix to join our
Hands—But, here she comes, leave me
Heartwell.
Enter Margaret.
Sweet Peg, my pretty, pretty Peg, how
dost thou do?
Mar.
Marry come up, Sauce-Box—
plain Peg, where have you left your
Breeding? if ever you had any: I am called
Madam.
Man.
No, no, Peg, thou ly'st, thou'rt
call'd plain Peg, and bonny Peg, and sometimes
Peg the curst, take this from me;
hearing thy Mildness mentioned every
where, thy Virtues spoke of, and thy
-- 9 --
Beautys praised; I come to woo thee
Peg, to be my Wife.
Marg.
So shou'd I be sure to have a scurvy
Bargain.
Man.
Why, now I see the World has
much abus'd thee; 'twas told me, thou
wert rough, and wild, and sullen, but I
find nothing in thee, but Mildness and Good-Nature;
I see thou canst not frown, nor
pout, nor bite the Lip, like other angry
Wenches, thou'rt all Sweetness, Peg.
Marg.
Don't provoke me, Sir, I won't
stand quiet to hear my self abus'd.
Man.
What Rogue was he, that told me
thou wert lame; thou art as strait, Peg, as
an Osier, and as pliable; that Air, that
Walk, becomes thee to a Miracle.
Marg.
Does it so, Jackanapes? how will
a Halter become you, with a running Knot
under one Ear?
Man.
Nay, no Knot, Peg, but the
Knot of Matrimony, between thee and
me.
Arch.
Now, let me be hanged, if I know
which Knot is worst; yet were I to chuse,
I think the running Knot would be the
best, because one might soon be out of
one's Pain in such a Case: I like not your
Knots, that a Man is all his Life-time wishing
to untie, and to no purpose.
-- 10 --
Marg.
I will not stay to be mock'd, by
such crack-brain'd Fellows.
Man.
Nay, stay Peg, prithee stay—
in faith, you stir not yet; I tell thee, in
plain Terms, that I have thy Father's Consent;
your Portion's agreed upon, your
Jointure settled, the Writings are drawn,
and for your own part, be willing or unwilling,
all's one, you and I will marry,
I'm resolv'd on't.
Marg.
What, without my Leave, Impudence?
Man.
A Fig for your Leave,—here's a
Clatter with a noisy Woman—be contented,
for I'll have it so.
Marg.
You shall be hang'd first—you
shall—within there.
Man.
No Noise, Peg; get me a Stick,
Archer; by this Hand, deny to promise
me before your Father, and I'll not leave
you a whole Rib; I'll make you do it,
and be glad on't.
Marg.
Why, you will not murder me,
I hope? you are a Couple of Rascals, I
don't doubt, but you wou'd pick my
Pocket.
Arch.
I have a stronger Temptation, to
pick your Tongue out of your Head, an
it were but as easily done.
Marg.
Take that, Puppy, and speak next
when it comes to your turn.
-- 11 --
Man.
Come, come, leave these Frolicks;
have you, I will, or no Man ever shall—
whoe'er attempts it, I'll be the Death of
him, before he lies one Night with thee;
perhaps, of thee too, to bear him Company;
'tis I am come to tame thee.
Enter Worthy, Heartwell.
Here comes your Father—never deny
me, for if you do, you know what follows.
Marg.
The Devil's in this Fellow, he
has beat me, at my own Weapons; now,
have I a mind to marry him, to try if I
can't tame him.
Sir W.
Well, Manley—what Success
with my Daughter?
Man.
It is impossible I shou'd speed amiss;
she's the best-natur'd Lady.
Sir W.
Why, how now, Daughter, in
the Dumps?
Marg.
You shew a Father's Care, indeed,
to match me to such a mad hectoring
Fellow.
Man.
She has been slander'd grievously,
she is not curst, unless for Policy; and for
Patience, she's a second Grizel; between
us, we have agreed to have the Wedding in
an Hour's time.
Marg.
I'll see you hang'd first.
[Aside.
-- 12 --
Heart.
Hark ye—Manley—she
swears, she'll see you hang'd first.
Man.
Pish, that's but her way of talking,
we have made a Bargain, that before Company,
she shall maintain, some of her extravagant
Humours; for she must not seem to
fall off from it too soon; when we are alone,
we are as fond as two Turtles. Well, Father,
provide the Feast, invite your Guests, and
I will just step to my Lodging to settle
some Affairs, and return immediately. Give
me thy Hand, Peg.
Marg.
Why, Sir, Sir, do you mean to
marry me in spite of my teeth?
Man.
No Words, Peg, no Words—
thou need'st not be peevish before Friends—
'tis only before Strangers, according to the
Bargain; come, Peg, thou shalt see me to
the Door.—
Marg.
As I live, I will not.
Man.
By this Light, but you shall—nay,
no testy Tricks.
[Exeunt.
Heart.
A little short Moment did Manly debate,
Within his great Bosom, this Crisis of Fate;
Then, like a brave Cæsar, he threw the bold Cast,
And strait over Wedlock's Life Rubicon past.
Was ever Match clapt up so suddenly?
-- 13 --
Sir W.
Faith, never—because, perhaps
such a Couple never met: I have ventur'd
madly, but he's a Gentleman of an extraordinary
Character.
Heart.
I don't doubt, but you'll think
your self happy in him; especially, if he
mends her Temper: but a Woman's Temper
is like Wine, there are many ways to
make it sharp, but not one to make it palatable
—if it be naturally sour.
Sir W.
That' very true, Sir.
AIR IV. Of all the simple Things we do.
That Man may well despair, who tries,
To sup up the Sea with a Spoon;
To mend a bad Wife, is a Tryal as wise,
And may be effected as soon.
Three ways, a Philosopher saith,
A Scold may be cur'd if she's young:
To stop her Breath,
Or fret her to Death,
Or snip off the Tip of her Tongue.
Sir W.
'Tis e'en so—but let's in, to
prepare Things against the Wedding.
[Exeunt.
-- 14 --
Enter Flora, Lucy.
Flo.
So, I think, all Matters are agreed
on, Lucy.
Lu.
Yes, Madam, and as I was saying,
you know, he is certainly twice as mad as
she—but, as I say, it will be my Lady's
turn next—and, you may now e'en chuse
where you like.
Flo.
I shall not be very ready to determine,
Lucy: It is a Matter that requires
a great deal of Caution.
AIR V. Altho' I am a Country Lass.
Altho' so fondly Men profess,
To love us without ranging;
Their Passions vary, like their Dress,
Decaying, ever changing.
No Face so fair, no Eye so bright,
From roving to restrain them;
As Boys whom gilded Toys delight,
Possess, and then disdain them.
Lu.
That's what I say, Madam—and,
I said it to his Face, Madam—just now;
-- 15 --
when he was plaguing me, to let him see
you, for said I, my Lady despises you
all—and, as I say, all you Lovers may
e'en go hang your selves for her—
and—
Flo.
But hold, Lucy; you spoke all
this without my Direction.
Lu.
Why, ay, Madam, that's true—
but, you know, as I say, where one loves,
one's part to speak heartily.
Flo.
And, pray who was this Person
that was plaguing you so?
Lu.
Only Mr. Gainlove—he said,
he was sure you wou'd not be displeas'd
at his Admittance; but I knew to the
contrary, and so I told him roundly—
indeed, it pity'd the Heart of me, to see
the poor Gentleman sigh, and wrap his
Hands a-cross his Breast, and lift up his
Eyes, and hang down his Head,—
and, as I was saying, it griev'd the Heart
of me, to let him go—but, to please
you, Madam—
Flo.
Perhaps, 'twou'd have pleas'd me
more to have admitted him.
Lu.
O Lord, Madam! there's no harm
done, I'll warrant, he's within call—
ay, ay, when a body knows your Mind, as
I say, then one knows what to do; ay, ay,
I'll fetch him.
-- 16 --
Flo.
Stay, Lucy, now thou'rt as much
too officious.
Lu.
Nay, in good faith, will I not—
I am resolv'd to please your Ladyship.
[Exit.
Flo.
I see, it's impossible to conceal an
Affection, when once it has taken possession
of us.
AIR VI. Down in the North Country.
How vain's our Scorn, and Woman's Pride,
Our Passion to conceal;
When what we study most to hide,
Our Actions most reveal.
The Bird whose trembling Breast,
Pants for its Young, afraid;
By fearing to disclose her Nest,
Is by those Fears betray'd.
-- 25 --
Enter Lucy, Gainlove.
Lu.
Nay, Madam, 'tis too late as I say,
to counterfeit, I have e'en told him all, and
shall leave it to yourselves to agree.
[Exit.
Gain.
Forgive me, Flora, for this Intrusion,
let me not despair, since the Sincerity
and Ardour of my Affections demand
some Return.
Flo.
You know how absolute my Father's
Commands are not to receive my Addresses
till my elder Sister is marry'd.
Gain.
Then, my fair One, you'll be soon
at Liberty, for every Thing I hear is ready,
and they are only waiting for the Bridegroom.
Flo.
It is necessary then for me to retire
for fear of my Father's discovering us.
Gain.
Only give me Leave to tell you,
that your Father designs to marry you to
Heartwell To-morrow, and therefore you
must be speedy in your Determination; I
flatter myself that I am not wholly indifferent
to you, and if I am really so happy, let
us not both be sacrific'd.
Flo.
I dare not stay to answer you now,
you shall know my Resolution To-night.
Lucy will conduct you to me, and we may
have a better Opportunity of settling Affairs,
while the Family are employ'd about
my Sister.
-- 26 --
Gain.
Till then I shall be miserable.
[Manet Flora.
AIR VII. Wally, &c.
Flora.
Altho' so fondly Men profess
to love us, without ranging,
Their Passions vary like their Dress,
decaying, ever changing.
No Face so fair, no Eye so bright,
From roving to restrain them;
As Boys, whom gilded Toys delight,
possess, and then disdain them.
Enter Worthy, Heartwell, Margaret, Manley, Archer.
Man.
I thank your Friends for your Attendance,
I know you think to sup with
me To-night, but Business of the utmost
Consequence obliges me to take my Leave.
Sir Wm.
Is't possible you will away Tonight?
Man.
I must immediately, if you knew
my Business you wou'd not wonder at my
abrupt Departure. Again, I thank you all
who have beheld me give away myself to
this most patient, mild and gentle Wife, sup
with my Father, here, and drink my Health,
for I must hence. So farewell to you all.
-- 27 --
Heart.
Let me intreat you to stay till
after Supper.
Man.
It must not be.
Heart.
Let me prevail with you.
Man.
'Tis impossible.
Mar.
Let me intreat you.
Man.
I'm content.
Mar.
Are you content to stay?
Man.
I am content you shou'd intreat me,
but stay I will not, intreat me how you can.
Mar.
Now if you love me.
Man.
I cannot; Archer, the Horses.
Arch.
They have not eat their Wedding
Supper, Sir.
Man.
Sirrah, get the Horses.
Mar.
Nay then do what thou can'st, I
will not go neither To-night, nor To-morrow,
nor till I please myself: The Door is
open, Sir; there lies your Way.
AIR VIII. Red House.
Wives will be insulted,
if so tame to bear it;
Husbands will be Tyrants,
proudly they declare it;
Women shou'd remind 'em
of their humble Duty,
Nature has design'd 'em
Slaves to Love and Beauty.
-- 28 --
I will assert my Sex's Right.
his Noise and Frowns alike despise,
Since angry Wives like Vipers bite,
let none provoke them if they're wise.
Man.
Peg, be content,—I pr'ythee be
not angry.
Mar.
I will be angry if I please. Father,
be quiet, he shall stay my Leisure.
Heart.
Ay, now she begins to show herself.
Mar.
Gentlemen, forward to the Bridal
Supper; I see a Woman may be made a
Fool of, if she wants a little Spirit.
Man.
They shall go forward, Peg, at
thy Command; obey the Bride, you that
attend on her; go to the Feast, carouze, be
mad or merry; but for my bonny Peg, she
must with me; nay, look not big upon't,
nor stamp, nor stare, nor fret; she is my
Property, my Goods, my Chattels, and I
will be the Master of my own. Look, here
she stands, touch her who dare; I'll make
him smoke that stops me. Fear not, Peg,
I'll guard thee against a Million.—Nay,
come.
Mar.
Will none of you help me.
[Exit.
Sir Wm.
Nay, let 'em go;—they are
a Couple of quiet ones however; let's spend
the Evening chearfully, and to make it
look somewhat like a Wedding, we will have
-- 29 --
the Dance that was intended. Within there,
let the Dancers come in.
A DANCE.
By this Time I believe we are expected to
Supper. I'll shew you the Way.
[Exit.
End of the First Act.
-- 30 --
James Worsdale [1735], A cure for a scold. A Ballad farce of Two acts. (Founded upon Shakespear's taming of a Shrew) As it is Acted by his Majesty's Company of Comedians at the Theatre Royal in Drury-Lane. By J. Worsdale, Portrait-Painter (Printed for L. Gilliver [etc.], London) [word count] [S32200].
