Lords.
DUKE.
Well, my Co-mates, and Partners in Exile,
Hath not old Custom made this Life more sweet
Than that of painted Pomp? Are not these Woods,
These Plains enrich'd by bounteous Nature's Hand,
More free from Trouble, than the envious Court?
In Nature's Palace fearlessly we feel
The Seasons Difference; and when the icy Phang,
And churlish Chiding of the Winter's Wind
Blows on my Body, e'en till I shake with Cold,
I smile, and say this is no Flattery:
These, these are Friends indeed, that tell me true,
And kindly teach me how to know myself.
Believe me, Sirs, Adversity is not
That Monster, that our Fears wou'd represent her,
And tho' her Tree be bitter, yet her Fruit
Is passing sweet: Weigh but the Advantages
-- 30 --
Against its Ills, and you shall see the Scale
Of Profit sink beneath th' unequal Burthen.
ANTONIO.
I wou'd not change my Life again; and sure
Your Grace is happy, that can so easily suit
Your Disposition to your wayward Fortune.
DUKE.
Come, Sirs, what say you, shall we kill some Venison?
And yet it irks me, the poor dappled Fools,
Being native Burghers of this desart City,
Shou'd here, in their own Confines, be destroy'd.
1st LORD.
My Lord Marcellus grieves at that, and swears
We are worse Tyrants than your Brother Ferdinand.
DUKE.
Who saw him of late?
1st LORD.
This Morning, Lord Antonio, and myself crept close
behind him, as he lay supine beneath a rev'rend Oak,
whose leafy Honours bow o'er the Brook that borders on
Wood; thither a poor sequester'd Stag, that from the
Hunter's Dart had ta'en a Hurt, and from the Toils
escap'd, retir'd to languish; and, believe me, the
wretched Animal heav'd forth such Groans, that their
Discharge did stretch his leathern Coat almost to bursting;
and the big round Tears chas'd one another down his
trembling Cheeks in such Abundance, it wou'd have
mov'd a Man less human than Marcellus.
DUKE.
Food for his Melancholy. What said he?
Did he not moralize upon the Spectacle?
ANTONIO.
Oh much, my Lord, into a thousand Similies.
First, when he saw his falling Tears augment the swelling
-- 31 --
Stream, just so, quoth he, do Worldlings make their
Testaments, bequeathing more to those who had too
much already.
1st LORD.
Then because he was alone; right, quoth he, 'tis easy
known that thou art miserable, because alone; for Misery
makes Solitude.
ANTONIO.
Anon, a careless Herd, eager on Pasture, bounds
swiftly by, and never stops to greet him: Sweep on,
cry'd he, 'tis just the Fashion; yon Train of Stags are
favourite Courtiers, and like them, neglect their Brother
in Disgrace.
DUKE.
Heard you his Sermon out, or did you leave him in
his Contemplation?
1st LORD.
'Twas much about your Highness's Dressing-time, we
therefore left him still commenting on the unhappy Deer.
DUKE.
Wou'd I had been there!
ANTONIO.
'Twou'd much have pleas'd your Highness.
DUKE.
Belike so; I have not seen him lately. Know any of
you where to meet with him?
ANTONIO.
You know, my Lord, he does not quickly leave a
Place he has once taken to; 'tis Odds we find him there.
DUKE.
I pray you bring me to him; I love to cope him in
these sullen Fits; for then he's full of Matter. Along.
ANTONIO.
This Way, my Lord.
-- 32 --
SCENE II.
Scene another Part of the Forest.
Camilla as Julio, Julia as Florinda, and Hillario.
FLORINDA.
Heigh ho! how weary are my Spirits!
JULIO.
I care not for my Spirits, if my Legs were not weary.
HILLARIO.
For shame, Sir, a young brisk Gentleman, and talk
of being tir'd! Why 'tis not above some eight, or ten
Miles since we quitted our Horses.
JULIO.
I could find in my Heart to disgrace my Manhood,
and cry like a mere Girl; but since I represent a Man,
I must make a Shew of Courage at least, and comfort
the weaker Vessel; therefore Courage, good Florinda.
FLORINDA.
Pr'ythee, Julio, bear with me, I can go no farther.
HILLARIO.
For my Part, I had much rather bear with you, than
bear you, I promise you. But come, who knows where
we are?
JULIO.
Not I,—but here comes one, who, in all Probability,
can inform us.
FLORINDA.
He seems a Native; you'll remember who we are,
Hillario.
-- 33 --
HILLARIO.
I warrant you! you, Sir, are no longer Lady Camilla,
but Mr. Julio, the Shepherd, (to Julio) and you, Madam
—(to Florinda).
FLORINDA.
Mrs. Florinda, the Shepherd's Sister. But soft, the
Stranger's here.
SCENE III.
(To them) a Shepherd.
JULIO.
Shepherd, good Day: What do you call this
Place?
SHEPHERD.
The Forest of Arden, Sir.
HILLARIO.
That's well, however.
JULIO.
Pr'ythee inform us if any Town be near, where we
may rest a while; here's a poor young Maid that is not
greatly us'd to Travelling, and almost faints for Succour.
SHEPHERD.
Ah! lack-a-day, Sir, you're a great Way from any
Village, or House; but I have a little Cot hard by here,
an you'll step there, such poor Refreshment as you meet
with, is at your Service, as the Saying is.
HILLARIO.
Faith, a good honest Fellow this.
-- 34 --
JULIO.
With all my Heart, Shepherd; we are oblig'd to you,
and will satisfy you as you require; lead on then without
Ceremony; come, Sister.
SCENE IV.
Scene a Grove, Marcellus discover'd sitting on a Bank alone.
MARCELLUS.
Hail pleasing Horrors of the silent Shade! Hail
friendly Solitude! how happy is the untam'd Savage,
who wanders free along the gloomy Desart, and
knows no Care but from the Calls of Nature, which himself
can quickly satisfy,—whose peaceful Hours are ne'er
disturb'd by the impertinent Salutations of Friends, or the
cringing Grimace of Flatterers.—What Injustice! what
Cruelty is it that any one Creature, design'd by Nature
free and uncontroul'd, shou'd be oblig'd by Laws to submit
tamely to the many Torments his Fellow-Animals
are so studious to load him with!—How happy must our
first Parent Adam have been in his blest Solitude! how
agreeable his Life! till Woman, damn'd Woman, that
Creature, worse, if possible, than Man, broke in upon
his Rest, and tainted all his Joys.—(A Noise of Horns
without.) Heavens! that Noise forever! Impious Men!
what Authority has Nature given you over your poor
dumb Fellow-Creatures, that they must thus be sacrificed
to your unnatural Pleasures? Is it because you're stronger?
-- 35 --
So much the more Injustice, to hurt the Weak unable to
resist you. Are they not Inhabitants of the same World,
and born in the same Freedom with yourselves? (Noise
again) Again! they come this Way too.—S'death,
I think they mean to hunt me; I'll try to avoid them.
SCENE V.
Julio, Florinda, Hillario, and Shepherd discover'd in a Cottage.
JULIO.
Shepherd, we thank you, and assure yourself,
if ever it lies in our Power to serve you,
you shall not find us mere Court-Promisers.
HILLARIO.
Why aye now, Compliments will serve well enough
for Grace after Meat, look ye; but before, faith, they
are the worst Things that ever were invented. Sad
Custom: Sad Custom.
FLORINDA.
Are there not some Strangers, Shepherd, that live
retir'd in some solitary Part of the Forest?
SHEPHERD.
Aye, Madam, the old Duke of Liege, good Gentleman,
that was banish'd by his Brother, with his Companions,
lives in a Cave about a Mile off.
JULIO.
Aye, poor Gentleman, we have heard of him; how
does he pass his Time in his Retirement?
-- 36 --
SHEPHERD.
Hunting, for the generality, furnishes him with both
Food and Exercise; there's seldom a Morning passes,
but you shall see the good old Man up, and after a Stag,
an Hour or two before Sun-rise.
HILLARIO.
What Company has he with him here?
SHEPHERD.
Why, there's one Antonio, and two, or three more
merry Fellows, that are always with him.—And then
there's one Marcellus, I think they call him, a melancholy
Sort of a Fellow;—he's a great Woman-hater, and
a Philosopher too, I think they say.
HILLARIO.
How d'ye know?
SHEPHERD.
Why, he reads much;—
HILLARIO.
Good.
SHEPHERD.
Thinks more;—
HILLARIO.
Good still.
SHEPHERD.
Eats little, sleeps less, and speaks least of all.
HILLARIO.
All good.
SHEPHERD.
And if he sees a Woman—
FLORINDA.
What then, Shepherd?
SHEPHERD.
He runs away, shuts himself up in his Cave, and
prays for an Hour, or two after.
-- 37 --
JULIO, HILLARIO.
Ha! Ha! Ha!
FLORINDA.
Oh the Brute! I'm resolv'd to take a Revenge upon
him in Behalf of the whole Sex.
HILLARIO.
So, so, here's like to be fine Work, if you once come
at him; well, I say no more.
FLORINDA.
Where is this Marcellus to be found, Shepherd?
SHEPHERD.
About an Hour hence, he generally walks this Way;
if you will then, I'll bring you where you may see
him.
JULIO.
Do so, Shepherd, and in the mean Time here's for thy
Civility, (gives him Money.) Do you know of any Farm to
be let, or sold in this Neighbourhood?
SHEPHERD.
Marry, as good a one, as any in the Forest, hard by
here, down by the Brook;—'twas old Corin's, but he's
gone, poor-Soul; he died, let me see, it's a Month ago,
I think, come Wednesday.
JULIO.
Do you bargain for it then, and we'll be answerable
for whatever you agree upon.
FLORINDA.
Do Brother, I like the Place much, and cou'd spend
my Life in't.
JULIO.
Come, Shepherd, we'll take a little Turn about your
Gardens, if you will, and then—
HILLARIO.
Hey for the Philosopher.
-- 38 --
SCENE VI.
Marcellus, Antonio (meeting.)
ANTONIO.
How now, Marcellus, how fares it with you?
MARCELLUS.
Why well.
ANTONIO.
I am glad of it; where have you been, that we have
not seen you of late?
MARCELLUS.
In my Study.
ANTONIO.
Pr'ythee where's that?
MARCELLUS.
The World.
ANTONIO.
Will you walk with me to the Duke's Cave?
MARCELLUS.
No, 'tis too soon to sleep yet.
ANTONIO.
Why, who the Plague wants you to sleep?
MARCELLUS.
What shou'd I do else in Company?
ANTONIO.
The Duke has been enquiring for you all the Morning.
MARCELLUS.
I'm glad he found me not.
-- 39 --
ANTONIO.
Pr'ythee why do you avoid him? he wants to have
some Discourse with you.
MARCELLUS.
I know it, and therefore I avoid him.
ANTONIO.
Why are you so sullen, Marcellus?
MARCELLUS.
Why are you so impertinent, Antonio?
ANTONIO.
Come, if you'll sit down, I'll give you a Song.
MARCELLUS.
With all my Heart, I am melancholy.
ANTONIO.
Nay then, I will not, it will feed your Melancholy.
MARCELLUS.
I like it the better; I can pick Melancholy out of a
Song, as a Chicken does Meat out of a Barley-corn.
ANTONIO.
But you know my Voice don't please you; besides I'm
hoarse.
MARCELLUS.
S'death, I don't want you to please me, I wou'd but
have you sing.
ANTONIO.
Ahem! Ahem!
MARCELLUS.
Pox o' thy hem,—I wish you'd begin.
ANTONIO.
Well, are you for Love, or Mirth, or Satire, or—?
MARCELLUS.
Satire, dear Devil Satire,—oh how I love a little honest
Satire,—it feeds my Humour,—come, but no Love
I pr'ythee.
-- 40 --
ANTONIO.
Well, mark then.
Antonio sings
I.
As Thyrsis one Ev'ning was on a Bank laid,
A soft mossy Pillow supported his Head,
His Quiver lay by him, his Bow was unstrung,
And thus in sad Numbers he mournfully sung.
II.
Alas! hapless Youth, must I still sigh in vain?
Shall I ne'er know an End to my Torment and Pain?
Ah! say, gentle Cupid, and ease my vex'd Mind,
Ah! when will my Silvia relent, and be kind?
III.
Young Cupid, who passing that Way chanc'd to hear
The Shepherd thus sadly complaining, drew near,
Accosted him kindly, sate down by his Side,
Then tun'd up his Voice, and thus to him reply'd:
IV.
When Courtiers speak Truth, and a Statesman's sincere;
When Knaves cease to flatter, and Atheists to fear;
When Lawyers are honest, Physicians have Skill,
And Conscience enough to cure more than they kill;
V.
When Pedants know well, what to others they teach;
When Priests learn to practice the Doctrine, they preach;
When Women are fair, and not vain of their Charms;
When a Tradesman is just, and a Soldier loves Arms;
-- 41 --
VI.
When a Poet is modest, a Lover has Brains;
When a Scholar's polite, and Sincerity reigns;
When a brainsick Projector forgets to contrive,
And a true honest Man finds it easy to live;
VII.
When dull politick Fools are of use to the Nation;
When Virtue's esteem'd, and Religion in Fashion;
When Arts are encourag'd, and Merit gains Praise;
When we've Wealth in our Coffers, and Wit in our Plays;
VIII.
When the World is unmask'd, and a Villain's Face bare,
And all Men appear what they nat'rally are;
Then Silvia shall to her Thyrsis resign
All her Charms, and forever, forever be thine.
IX.
Must I all these impossible Changes attend?
Gods! cries Thyrsis, my Sorrows will ne'er have an End:
'Twere as easy as this to recal a past Day.
So he rose in Despair, and went sighing away.
-- 42 --
SCENE VII.
Marcellus, Antonio; Julio, Florinda, Hillario, and Shepherd behind.
SHEPHERD.
This is the Place, Sir, where he generally spends
this Part of the Day, I don't doubt but we shall
find him;—Oh, yonder he is to our Wish.
FLORINDA.
Where, Shepherd? which is he?
SHEPHERD.
The nearest of those two Gentlemen.
HILLARIO.
What that hagged ill-looking Fellow in Black? Why
he looks like one of the Sons of Noah, in deep Mourning
for his Great-grandfather: He must be an Antediluvian
that's certain; for I'm sure such People as he have not been
in Fashion o' this Side the Flood. O' my Conscience if
he had been in Fig-Leaves, I shou'd have taken him for
Adam under the Apple-Tree.
FLORINDA.
Hush, Hillario, you forget that I am to fall in love
with him.
HILLARIO.
Gadso: I had like to have forgot that, indeed;—but
I beg your Ladyship's Pardon.
-- 43 --
JULIO.
Peace, he's going to open; let us step aside, lest we
disturb him.
[During this Discourse Marcellus sits melancholy, holding his Head down, Antonio looking at him.
MARCELLUS.
Have you done? Is that all?
ANTONIO.
Yes.
MARCELLUS.
Pr'ythee give me some more.
ANTONIO.
No; it makes you melancholy.
MARCELLUS.
Death! I tell you I like it for that; come, t'other
Stanzo, Stanza, what d'ye call them?
ANTONIO.
Just what you please.
MARCELLUS.
Nay, I care not for their Name, they owe me nothing;
but come, if you will sing, sing; if not, leave me, that I
may find some other Employment.
HILLARIO.
That's a little unpolite, methinks.
FLORINDA.
A little upon the free, or so.
ANTONIO.
Well, hearken then.
Antonio. sings.
What's Ambition? 'tis a Toy.
What are Riches? Pain and Trouble.
What is Fame? a short-liv'd Joy.
What is Honour? but a Bubble.
-- 44 --
Who's so happy then as we, who beneath the Greenwood-tree,
Where no Fear or Envy reigns,
While Time shakes his hasty Glass, our Hours in endless Transports pass,
And taste Life's Joys without its Pains?
There Sir.
MARCELLUS.
More, more, I pr'ythee more.
ANTONIO.
I can sing no more.
MARCELLUS.
Then leave me, I am busy, and wou'd be alone.
HILLARIO.
Ah Pox! there's some more of his Freedom.
ANTONIO.
With all my Heart; 'tis near the Duke's Dining-Time,
and I must attend him; you'll not go with me?
MARCELLUS.
No, I'll try to sleep; if I can't, I'll go rail at all Mankind,
and wish my Friends at the Devil.
HILLARIO.
By my Troth, a very pious Resolution.
ANTONIO.
Why, what a Brute art thou: Well, fare you well.
-- 45 --
SCENE VIII.
Marcellus, Julio, Florinda, Hillario, and Shepherd.
JULIO.
See, Sister, he's now alone; shall we accost him?
FLORINDA.
Oh! by all Means; but I've a Mind to attack him alone
first, therefore do you retire down that Walk, and leave
me to manage him.
JULIO.
Are you not afraid, Sister?
FLORINDA.
Not in the least; but, however, you may take care to
keep within Call.
JULIO.
Well, you're a mad Wench.—But come, Hillario, let
us give her her Humour for once.
HILLARIO.
Aye, or we shall have the Devil to pay, I suppose.
SHEPHERD.
Waunds! Mistress, have a Care how you provoke his
Tongue.—
HILLARIO.
Ah lack-a-day, Shepherd, if he has no better Weapon
than that, Lord have Mercy upon him.—But come Sir,
we hinder the Lady; allons. Success to you Madam.
-- 46 --
SCENE IX.
Florinda, Marcellus.
FLORINDA.
So! let me see, shall I begin first, or shall I wait,
and see if he dares make the Attack? I'll walk towards
him however.
[Walks towards him, Marcellus rises, and going out meets her.]
MARCELLUS.
Death, and Furies! a Woman in the Forest!
[Turns, and is going out at the other Door, but stops.
Yet hold, sure 'twas some Phantom; I'm not us'd to fear,
and will be satisfied.
[Florinda walks carelessly by him singing.
By Heaven a Woman, a very Woman; and, as I think,
a fair one too; what can this mean? I'm wond'rous ill
o'the sudden; my Limbs refuse their Office, I must sit.
FLORINDA.
Not yet?
MARCELLUS.
Hah! what am I doing? I shall be kill'd with Noise;
—she looks strangely impertinent; yet stay, perhaps she
cannot talk; as she has been silent so long, I have very
good Reason to believe so;—I'll e'en venture.
[Sits.
-- 47 --
SCENE X.
Marcellus, Florinda, Hillario listening.
HILLARIO.
Now can't I, for the Life of me, resist the Temptation;
I long to see how Matters go between
'em, I must have one Peep.—
FLORINDA.
So! I find I must open the Scene at last.
(Aside.)
Good Day to you, Sir; what alone?
MARCELLUS.
So, I thought it wou'd come, but I deserve it.
(Aside.)
I was.
FLORINDA.
I saw it, and therefore come to keep you Company.
MARCELLUS.
I thank you; but good Faith I had as lief ha' been by
myself.
FLORINDA.
Why so had I for that Matter; but for Fashion's sake,
I oblige myself now and then to undergo the Fatigue of a
little Conversation.
MARCELLUS.
Oh, your Servant, Madam; but for my Part, I must
confess, I have not quite Complaisance enough to sacrifice
my own private Satisfaction, to follow impertinent
Fashions.
-- 48 --
FLORINDA.
Nor am I quite ill-natur'd enough, to force any thing
upon a Person that's disagreeable to them; therefore, Sir,
you have free Liberty to retire as soon as you please,
with my Promise not to follow you.
MARCELLUS.
Methinks, Madam, as I had first Possession of the
Place, 'twou'd be more just for you to quit it.
FLORINDA.
Aye, but you know we Women are a strange unreasonable
Sort of Creatures, and expect a little Deference
to be shewn us on these Occasions; besides, I find I have
taken such a Fancy to this Place, ever since you desir'd
me to leave it, that I'm afraid you'll not easily perswade
me to quit it.
MARCELLUS.
Nay, as I have given you fair Warning, you can't
take it amiss if I shou'd continue with you, tho' my
Company may be a little disagreeable.
FLORINDA.
Not in the least, Sir; but in return for your Complaisance
shall acquaint you, that I am sometimes troubled
with a kind of Fits that make me a little disagreable too.
As for Instance, I shall run on upon Nothing by the
Hour, talk of Love, War, Business, Running, Sighing,
Writing, Fencing, Billet-doux, Darts, Flames, Cupids,
and I don't know what myself; then whip, I skip off to
your Mines and Countermines, Scarps, Counterscarps,
Bastions, Bulwarks, Parapets—
[Seems to continue talking.
HILLARIO.
So! so! so! why she has put him to his Trumps already;
the poor Devil has not one Word to say for himself.
-- 49 --
FLORINDA.
And then for your Philosophers, I can tell you all
about them from Top to Bottom; your Plato's, and
your Xenophons, your Socrates, and your Aristotle;
your Cynicks, Stoicks, and Pythagoreans; I can count
over all Ovid's Metamorphoses, reckon up all Pliny's
Curiosities, know how many Feathers were in Dædalus's
Wings, how many Turnings in the Cretan Labyrinth,
how far Atalanta ran in a Minute.—
[Seems still to talk.
During the two last Speeches of Florinda,
Marcellus seems impatient, and endeavours
to rise, but is held down by her; at last he
breaks from her, and rises.
MARCELLUS.
Death! can I bear all this? No, 'tis impossible;
(going)
yet stay.
These are Fits you say.
FLORINDA.
Yes, Sir.
MARCELLUS.
And are you often troubled with them?
FLORINDA.
Seldom without them, except when I'm asleep.
MARCELLUS.
Then Charity obliges me to stay, perhaps you may
want Assistance.
FLORINDA.
Hum—No, I'm generally best alone.
MARCELLUS.
You don't approve of my Company then?
FLORINDA.
No.
-- 50 --
MARCELLUS.
Then I must inform you, I have taken a Resolution
to be a continual Torment to your Sex, and am determin'd
to stay, if it be only to plague you.
HILLARIO.
Aye do, Child; but I can give a shrewd Guess who'll
come by the worst of it.
FLORINDA.
Nay, if you are for that Sport, come sit down, and
begin as soon as you please.
MARCELLUS.
I'll sit with all my Heart, but I hate talking.
[They sit.
FLORINDA.
And I can't abide to hold my Tongue.
MARCELLUS.
Pry'thee try to be silent for once, and let us be good
Company.
FLORINDA.
I'm afraid; it may be dangerous.
MARCELLUS.
You're a Woman?
FLORINDA.
I think so.
MARCELLUS.
And you will talk?
FLORINDA.
I must.
MARCELLUS.
Ten Crowns to one then you open with Scandal.
FLORINDA.
That I can't fail, when I have so good a Theme for
it before me:
-- 51 --
MARCELLUS.
Why you dare not rail at me?
FLORINDA.
I'll venture.
MARCELLUS.
But you shou'd first consider whether I deserve it, and
for what?
FLORINDA.
Oh! that's done already, and according to the general
Character I have heard of you: Besides a little Skill I
have in Physiognomy.—I pronounce you to be as honest
as a Lawyer, a City Tradesman, or a Deer-stealer;
as generous as a Miser, or an elder Brother to a poor
Family; as charitable as an old gouty Abbot; as religious
as a Dutch Sailor; as sincere as a Courtier; as
polite as a Hottentot; as sober as a Sea Captain, or
an English Foot Soldier; as humble and good-natur'd
as a Footman to his Lord's Duns, or a Player to a
poor Poet; as courageous as a Bull-fighting Spaniard; as—
[Marcellus rises at the Beginning of the Speech,
and walks about the Stage, Florinda following
him. At the End he turns, and stops her Mouth.
MARCELLUS.
Hold, hold; a Truce for Heaven's Sake; deliver
me this once, and if I ever undertake to rail with a
Woman again—
HILLARIO.
You'll be sure to have the worst End of the Argument.
FLORINDA.
Look ye, Sir, 'twas your own Fault, I told you
what you was to expect; Heaven knows I wou'd—
-- 52 --
MARCELLUS.
Death! She's beginning again; thank Fortune here's
Relief coming, or I should certainly grow desperate, and
beat her.
SCENE XI.
To them Lords.
1st LORD.
How's this? Marcellus with a Woman! this is
somewhat extraordinary.
MARCELLUS.
Gentlemen, you're welcome.
1st LORD.
'Tis the first Time we ever were so, I believe.
MARCELLUS.
Perhaps so,—but of two necessary Evils, I'm for chusing
the least. Pr'ythee lead me somewhere to avoid this
Fury.
1st LORD.
Come then, the Duke is just going to Dinner, and
will be glad of your Company;—will you attend us thither?
MARCELLUS.
With all my Heart; Farewel Virtue.
[To Florinda.
FLORINDA.
Adieu, Valour.
MARCELLUS returning.
Hark ye, thou Devil in Petticoats, take notice, that all
the Evening, from five, this Bank is my retiring Place;—
-- 53 --
this is the Seat of my Contemplations, and I claim it all
to myself; disturb me not, as you value—
FLORINDA.
What?
MARCELLUS.
I know not,—farewel.—
FLORINDA.
Hark ye, thou Bear in Breeches;—about a Quarter of
a Mile from hence, Northward, lies a little Cottage,—
upon the Green before which I shall spend my Afternoon
from two; come not there—as you value.
MARCELLUS.
What?
FLORINDA.
Peace.
MARCELLUS.
Agreed.—Farewel.—
SCENE XII.
Florinda, Hillario apart.
HILLARIO.
Hum—a good pretty new Fashion Way of making
Assignations this:—Well, I have a strange
Notion this Affair won't end so; 'twas pretty well fought
o' both Sides.
-- 54 --
SCENE XIII.
To them Marcellus.
FLORINDA.
What d'ye come back for?
MARCELLUS.
Only to assure you, that I hate you. Once more farewel.
SCENE XIV.
Florinda, Hillario apart.
HILLARIO.
'Twas mighty civil of you, truly.
FLORINDA.
Ha, ha, ha.—Well, Gentlemen, you may enter,
the Coast's clear.
-- 55 --
SCENE XV.
Florinda, Julio, Hillario.
JULIO.
Well Sister, what Success?
FLORINDA.
Is that a Question, when you see I keep the Field?—
Oh! I made nothing of him. In short, I manag'd him
so, he did not know which Way to turn himself.
JULIO.
Well, but what Use do you intend to make of your
Conquest.
FLORINDA.
Oh, let me compleat it, and I warrant I find a Use
for it. We have given each other a Challenge to meet
again this Afternoon: If he don't come to mine, I'm resolv'd
not to miss his; and when I come at him again—
HILLARIO.
Let you alone to manage him:—Well, I find, after
all, we are but Novices in these Affairs,—for
In vain our Skill and Courage we may boast.
Set but a Woman to us, and we're lost.
End of the Second Act.
-- 56 --
John Carrington [1739], The modern receipt: or, A Cure for Love. A comedy. Altered from Shakespeare. With Original Poems, Letters &c. (Printed for the Author, London) [word count] [S35300].
