Hillario meeting.
HILLARIO.
Well encounter'd, my Lord: I wanted
to ask you a Sort of a Question, and was
seeking you.
MARCELLUS.
A Question of me Friend! Pr'ythee
what is it?
HILLARIO.
Nay, 'tis no great Matter of Business; only as I was
coming down the Forest this Morning, I observed you
very familiar with the young Shepherdess Florinda: Now
I wou'd be glad to have your Opinion of her; how d'ye
like her Sir?
MARCELLUS.
Like her?
HILLARIO.
Aye Sir.
MARCELLUS.
As well as the rest of her Sex; she's a Woman.
HILLARIO.
Aye, one may guess that by a little Sort of a Qualification
she has communicated to you.
-- 78 --
MARCELLUS.
What's that?
HILLARIO.
Only the Art of Dissembling, Sir.—Why did not I
see you make Love to her with all the Tenderness of a
Coxcomb of eighteen to his first Mistress? And after you
parted, did not you sit down, and sigh, and look as melancholy
as a Girl that has staid past the canonical Hour
o' the Day she was to be married.—Come, come Sir,
confess, confess.
MARCELLUS.
You are merry Friend; but shou'd season your Wit
with Truth: I have other Reasons for my Melancholy.
HILLARIO.
And you really are not in Love with Florinda?
MARCELLUS.
'Tis not in the Power of any Woman to give me a
Moment's Uneasiness that Way; and least I think in
her's.
HILLARIO.
I'm glad of it; for you must know I have some
Thoughts of marrying her myself.
MARCELLUS.
How Sir? you marry Florinda!
HILLARIO.
Ay, 'tis so. [Aside.] Why not Sir?
MARCELLUS.
Let me but know you dare to think of such a Thing.—
No Sir, I'll have no more Procreation; the World's too
full of Coxcombs already.
HILLARIO.
'Tis certainly so:—Poor Devil!—How I begin to pity
him now. [Aside.] Well Sir, no Offence I hope;—
-- 79 --
upon my Soul Sir I only jested.—But pray Sir, since you
are not in Love, may I beg to know the Reason of your
Melancholy?
MARCELLUS.
I love it better than laughing.
HILLARIO.
Aye, but Extreams in either are certainly ridiculous;
and methinks you seem to indulge it rather too much.
MARCELLUS.
Perhaps so Sir: But there are different Kinds and Degrees
of Melancholy; now mine is not the Scholar's
Melancholy, which is emulative, nor the Musicians,
which is fantastical; the Courtiers, which is proud;
nor the Soldiers, which is ambitious; I am not
politically dull with the Statesman, nor nicely with the
Ladies: In short Sir, mine is a Melancholy of my own,
extracted, like Honey by the Bees, from the various
Objects of my Travels:—I have seen the World,
and the Contemplation of it has wrapp'd me up in this
same humourous Sadness.
HILLARIO.
How! a Traveller? nay then, I fear you've Reason
to be sad: You have sold your own Lands perhaps to gain
a Sight of other Men's; and, in my Opinion, to see much
and to have little, is to have rich Eyes and poor Hands,
'tis the Prodigal's Curse.
MARCELLUS.
But I have gain'd Experience.
HILLARIO.
And your Experience makes you sad: Believe me, I
had rather have Folly and Ignorance to make me merry,
than Experience to make me melancholy, especially when
I had travell'd for it.
-- 80 --
MARCELLUS.
Well Friend, all Men were not born to be of one Opinion:
—Enjoy your Fancy, and I'll adhere to mine.
HILLARIO.
Why there it is now; I never knew a Man in all my
Life mend by being told of his Failings; nay, he'll frequently
grow worse, merely through Opposition, and to
make the World believe he did not think himself on
the wrong Side the Argument.
MARCELLUS.
Why do you find Fault then?
HILLARIO.
For Discourse. If it were not for a little criticizing
now, and then, a Man wou'd be at a Loss to keep up the
Spirit of a Conversation.
MARCELLUS.
But 'tis ill-natur'd to find Fault with no other Design
than to promote a foolish Mirth; and may be dangerous.
HILLARIO.
Not at all Sir; for tho' I displease one Person, I oblige
a great many; for there's no one, but is fond of
hearing his Neighbour's Imperfections, tho' ever so impatient
at a Repetition of his own: Beside, there are
particular Ways of doing it;—as for Instance,—I tell
Cosmelia she has a fine Complexion,—she takes it all for
Gospel, while the rest of the Company know I'm rallying
her on the long Streaks of Vermillion, and White
Lead, that cover her Deformity.—Again,—My Lord, says
I to a great Man,—a Man of your Lordship's Sincerity
is a Miracle in an Age like this:—He answers me with
a Bow,—and a Smile, far different from that of the rest of
the Company, who know him for one of the most deceitful
Hypocrites about the Court.—In short, Sir, my
-- 81 --
Method of rallying is to praise a Man for a Virtue he particularly
wants; and with me a Cardinal is the most
humble, a Lawyer the most honest, and a Soldier the
most religious of all Mankind.
MARCELLUS.
But pr'ythee Friend, how can you reconcile this to your
Conscience?
HILLARIO.
My Conscience, Sir, is so good-natur'd, as never to give
me the least Uneasiness about it. Why Qui vult decipi, decipiatur.
If the World will be so foolish, as to swallow
gross Flatt'ry, let it: and if no one thinks the Fool's Cap
sits him, why should I make it appear that it does? I
tell no Man directly he's a Fool, but am content with
railing at the Gross; and believe me Sir, in a general Satire,
no Man will have so bad an Opinion of himself, as
to think his own Character particularly aim'd at.
MARCELLUS.
Well, Heaven send me far from a Place, where Flattery,
and Fraud are openly profess'd.
HILLARIO.
Let us see now which of us two upon Examination
will prove most in the right? I for making myself merry
with the Follies of the World, or you for continually
fretting at them?—Is not all the World mad?—and will it
not continue so in Spite of your Philosophy? Your Citizen's
mad for trusting the Courtier with his Goods, and
his 'Prentice with his Wife: Your Courtiers are mad for
believing one another: The Lawyer's mad for selling his
Soul for a Fee, which his Client's more mad for giving
him: The Lover's as mad with Jealousy, as his Mistress
is with Vanity;—And, in short, a Madness of one Kind
or other, is as natural to a Man, as 'tis for a Woman to
believe you when you praise her Beauty.
-- 82 --
MARCELLUS.
I think, Sir, you are acquainted with the World.
HILLARIO.
Aye Faith, I know enough to be tir'd of it, as well as
you:—I was Fool enough, upon my first coming into it, to
fancy Desert the only Way to Promotion, and so set up
for being very wife;—but I soon found there was little to
be got that Way, and e'en turn'd Fool: Upon this I was
immediately caress'd by every Body, and loaded with
Preferment, when there was no Danger of my being
thought wiser than my Patrons, and Assistants.
MARCELLUS.
It seems to me a Contradiction to suppose Folly a Recommendation
in a Man.
HILLARIO.
Why I don't know how it may be in other Places,
but in our Country I'm sure he'll find himself damnably
mistaken, that thinks Merit any Step to Advancement.
MARCELLUS.
That may possibly be owing to the Management of
those, who are at the Head of affairs, who do not care to
introduce a Man of Sense, or a fine Genius, lest he
shou'd discover the Frauds in their Behaviour, or outshine,
and supplant them.
HILLARIO.
Doubtless Sir; and for the Reason I have always
thought that People must be bless'd, and such there are
'tis said even now, the happy Subjects of a neighbouring
Monarch who are under the Direction of a Minister,
whose superior Genius makes him despise such Arts; who
always pays a due Regard to Merit, and thinks it his
greatest Happiness to have it in his Power to be serviceable
to such, as deserve well of their Country.
-- 83 --
MARCELLUS.
Happy People!—And yet perhaps they taste it not;
for even Blessings cloy when in the Possession of Wretches
who know not how to prize them as they ought.—But
pray Sir what makes you so inveterate against the Court?
I thought you said just now you belong'd to it.
HILLARIO.
Oh, 'tis the Fashion Sir; no one can be reckon'd a
Man of Wit now, till he has thrown off Religion, and
learn'd to rail at the Court, and the Clergy; one for
being too powerful, the other too rich, and too proud.—
But to be plain with you, Sir, I am but a second-hand
Sort of a Courtier at present, for I have lost my Place,
and am out of Favour.
MARCELLUS.
Oh! your humble Servant Sir; if you had but given
me that Reason first, I'd have excus'd you any other.
HILLARIO.
But come, enough of Trifles.—Now Sir, if you are
not so far gone as to be deaf to good Advice, and think
the Man impertinent that gives it, I have something to
propose, which perhaps may be to your Advantage.
MARCELLUS.
Well Sir, begin then; I shall at least indulge you a
Hearing;—or do you wait for the usual Symptoms of a
Client?
HILLARIO.
No Sir, I shall for once break thro' a Court Custom,
and give my Advice without a Fee.
MARCELLUS.
Perhaps it may be worth as little as you ask for it.
HILLARIO.
That's as it shall happen.—In short, Sir, I see your
generous Temper, and approve of it; and before I proceed
-- 84 --
shall give you a Mark of my Confidence, by trusting
you with a Secret, which is that I despise a Fool in my
Heart as much, as you do; but finding that Fortune bestow'd
her Favours on none but those, that least deserv'd
them, I assumed the Character I contemn; my only Recommendation
was Flattery, railing at the Absent, and
caressing the Present: This, Sir, was no small Advantage
to my Fortune, as well as my Reputation.
MARCELLUS.
Well Sir, all this you told me before: But what is it
you wou'd propose to me?
HILLARIO.
What I wou'd tell you is this:—The Lady you are
in Love with—Nay, never start, for I both see, and know
it; even your Manner of denying it just now, convinc'd
me more fully of it—That Lady, I say, is of a Birth, and
Fortune, that may challenge the noblest Man in Germany.
MARCELLUS.
I fear 'tis in vain to deny it;—sure there is something
particular in Love, which distinguishes those, that are
troubled with it from other Men. [Aside.] I must
confess Sir—
HILLARIO.
Come never make Excuses; 'tis what we are all subject
to, and no Man need be asham'd of.—If you'll trust
to my Management, I'll order it so that your Conduct
shall not be in the least subject to Ridicule, and the
whole Affair seem rather forc'd upon you, than of your
own seeking.
MARCELLUS.
Well Sir, I must acknowledge that I think that Lady
has Beauty, and you Sincerity and good Nature; and if
my Opinion of you increases in Proportion to what it has
done already, I don't know but I may be weak enough
-- 85 --
to be reconcil'd to the World again:—But an Alteration
too sudden may not be altogether proper.
HILLARIO.
I warrant we order Matters well enough for that;
when you see her again let her not perceive the least
Change in you, but receive her as you us'd to do.—
Oh! she's coming yonder with her Brother; walk this
Way with me, it may not be proper to venture on an Encounter
yet, till you have consider'd your own Strength
a little.
MARCELLUS.
I will but take one Look, and follow you.
HILLARIO.
Nay, if you'll not be rul'd, good by t'ye.
MARCELLUS.
Lead on Sir.—Oh Woman! Woman! that it
shou'd be in thy Power to effect such Changes. How
has one Day's Love alter'd me!
HILLARIO.
For the better, I warrant you—Come on.
SCENE II.
Julio, Florinda.
Well Coz, how do you find yourself now?
JULIO.
But so so, I must confess; I'm in a thousand Fears lest
this Lover of mine shou'd not come.
-- 86 --
FLORINDA.
If he knew you to be his real Camilla, you might
then be uneasy at his Neglect; but while you keep him
ignorant of that, and only meet him to fool away an
Hour, if he does make a little Slip in Punctuality, I
think there's no great Harm in it.
JULIO.
Well, I must keep up my Spirits as well I can, tho' I
own I am heartily tir'd of this Fooling.
FLORINDA.
So is he, I'll engage for him.—Yonder he comes I
see—I'll leave you together. Well, by t'ye Coz—
I'll be with you again before your Love Scene's over.
JULIO.
I shall expect you.
SCENE III.
Vincentio, Julio.
JULIO.
So Sir, you're a pretty Lover indeed, to make your
Mistress wait for you after this Manner.
VINCENTIO.
Why, dear Camilla, I come within an Hour of my
Promise.
JULIO.
Break an Hour's Promise in Love!—He that will
divide a Minute into a thousand Parts, and break but the
thousandth Part of a Division in Love Affairs, it may
-- 87 --
be said of him that Cupid has clapp'd him o'th' Shoulder,
but I'll warrant him Heart-whole.
VINCENTIO.
I pr'ythee pardon me this once.
JULIO.
Nay, if you're so tardy, come no more in my Sight;
I'd as lief be woo'd of a Snail.
VINCENTIO.
Of a Snail!
JULIO.
Aye, of a Snail; for tho' he comes slow, yet he brings
his House on his Back, which I think is a better Jointure
than you can make a Woman; besides, he brings his
Destiny with him.
VINCENTIO.
What's that?
JULIO.
Horns; which such as you are fain to be beholden to
your Wives for; but he comes arm'd in his Fortune, and
saves the good Woman the Scandal.
VINCENTIO.
Virtue is no Horn-maker, and my Camilla is virtuous.
JULIO.
And I am your Camilla.
VINCENTIO.
You will have me call you so.
JULIO.
Well, leave fooling, and woo me then, for I'm in a
Holiday Humour, and like enough to consent—Come,
what wou'd you say to me if I were really your Camilla?
VINCENTIO.
I wou'd first salute you.
-- 88 --
JULIO.
'Twere better Sir, in my Opinion, to defer the Kiss
till you found yourself at a Loss for Matter; you might
then introduce it to fill up a Vacancy: I think when a
Lover has spent all his Rhetorick, a Kiss relieves him as
genteelly, as a Cough does a Pleader when he does not
know how to proceed in his Discourse.
VINCENTIO.
What if the Kiss be denied?
JULIO.
It gives convenient Matter for Argument: The Lady
must be intreated, and the Lover defend himself.—Go
to, what a Novice you are.
VINCENTIO.
No Man can surely be so dull to want for Matter on so
fair a Theme.
JULIO.
You have a much better Opinion of your Mistress's
Person, than her Wit then, to think she cou'd not soon
put a Man, as deep in Love as you pretend to be,
to a Loss for Discourse; Why you see you hardly
know what to say to me, who only represent her. But
come, let's try you once more; I speak for her, and
say I'll not have you.—Ha! ha! ha! you're a pretty
Fellow for a Lover indeed, to be struck mute at the first
Denial—You shou'd rather have taken my Hand with
a brisk Air, given it ten thousand Kisses, and swore that
this was the happiest Minute of your Life, since it had
always been a Custom in Love to read Women like Hebrew,
backwards—Come, try again—I say, I hate
you.
VINCENTIO.
If Camilla were to say so, I shou'd die.
-- 89 --
JULIO.
Lud! lud! lud! you're quite wrong—I shou'd
die!—You're one of the dullest Scholars—Why d'ye
think Camilla wou'd like you e'er a Bit the better for
dying? no, no Child, the Ladies don't know what to do
with a dead Lover, 'tis the living they have Occasion for
Besides, I hope you wou'd not go to bring up an ill Custom:
And pray when did you ever hear of any body, that
died for Love? Troilus got knock'd o'th' Head for peeping
in at Diomede's Tent, when he was transacting some
private Affairs; and I warrant you he died for Love:
Poor Leander, as he was swimming in the Hellespont in a
fine Summer's Evening, was taken with the Cramp, and
drown'd, and yet he died for Love too I suppose; all your
great Heroes died for Love: No, no Sir, 'tis true Men
have dy'd in all Ages, but none of them for Love, believe
me.
VINCENTIO.
You are merry Youth; but I wou'd not have my
right Camilla o' this Mind for the World:—I'm sure her
Frown wou'd kill me.
JULIO.
By this Light it wou'd not kill a Fly: But come, since
you bear Adversity so ill, let's see how good Fortune will
sit upon you; as thus now;—I will be your Camilla
in a kinder Disposition, and do just, as you wou'd have
me.
VINCENTIO.
Then pr'ythee love me.
JULIO.
Yes Faith will I, Fast-Days, Lent, and all.
VINCENTIO.
And will you have me?
-- 90 --
JULIO.
Aye, and twenty such.
VINCENTIO.
How!
JULIO.
Are not you good?
VINCENTIO.
I hope so?
JULIO.
Go to; can one have too much of a good Thing?—
Well, but I'm to have you, you say; and see here comes
my Sister opportunely to marry us.
SCENE IV.
To them Florinda.
JULIO.
Come Sister, we have agreed upon the Matter,
and you come very luckily to stand Priest for us.
FLORINDA.
I do not know the Words.
JULIO.
How! a brisk, unmarried Girl, and not know Matrimony
by Heart! Oh wonderful!—But come, we'll instruct
you.—Lord! how dull the Thing is!—What no
Thanks? no Raptures?
[To Vincentio.
VINCENTIO.
No Faith! I know better Things, than all that; you
know I'm to read Women backward my Dear.
-- 91 --
JULIO.
Gad so! that's true; but that's only when they're in
an ill Humour, or so; but when a Woman consents to
her own Advantage, you may be sure that then at least
she speaks Truth.
VINCENTIO.
Well, I always look'd upon Women as a Mystery,
and as such have reverenc'd them.—(A Horn sounds.)
Hark, I am call'd; my dear Camilla, I must leave you
for two Hours.
JULIO.
Alas! dear Love! I cannot lack thee two Hours.
VINCENTIO.
I must now attend the Duke, who has receiv'd me into
his Service; by two o'th' Clock I will be with you
again.
JULIO whining.
Well, go your Ways, go your Ways; I knew what you
wou'd prove, my Friends told me as much, and I thought
no less;—that flatt'ring Tongue of yours won me; 'tis
but one Castaway, note and so come Death.—Two of the
Clock is your Hour you say?
VINCENTIO.
Aye, my sweet Camilla.
JULIO.
Well, by my Troth, and in good Earnest, and as I
hope to be better, and by all the pretty Oaths, that are
not dangerous, if you break one Jot of your Promise, or
come one Minute behind your Hour, I will think you
the most pathetical Break-promise, the most hollow Lover,
and the most unworthy of her, you call Camilla,
that may be chosen out of the gross Band of the Unfaithful;
therefore beware my Censure, and keep your Promise.
-- 92 --
VINCENTIO.
With no less Exactness, than if you were my real Camilla;
till then adieu.
SCENE V.
Julio, Florinda,
JULIO.
Now let that same wicked Bastard of Venus, that
was begot of Thought, conceiv'd of Spleen, and
born of Madness; that blind, rascally Boy, that abuses every
one's Eyes, because his own are out; let him I say,
be Judge how deep I am in Love: I tell thee Florinda I
cannot live out of the Sight of Vincentio; I'll go find a
Shadow, and sigh till he comes.
FLORINDA.
And I'll go sleep.
-- 93 --
SCENE VI.
To them Hillario.
HILLARIO.
I fancy I shall find you better Employment, Lady o'
mine; for I have been doing such Things—
FLORINDA.
What Things Hillario?
HILLARIO.
Why I have persuaded your Philosopher to be reconcil'd
to you—I suppose you'll have him with you quickly—
the poor Devil's over Head and Ears in Love, and
has very civilly set me to pimp for his Lordship.
JULIO.
Why this is News indeed Hillario!
HILLARIO.
You'll find it true, I'll promise you; and so Lady Julia,
if you don't teize him a little, now you have him
fairly in your Power,—I'll say you're no Woman.
FLORINDA.
Oh! never fear it, I like the Sport, and will about it
instantly.
HILLARIO.
Hark'ye, never spare him, you may play with him
very safely, for I'll warrant him fast enough upon the
Hook:—And a—he'll begin a little rough at first I don't
doubt; but don't be discourag'd, 'tis all Policy, and in a
-- 94 --
little Time you'll find him as tame, and complying, as
you wou'd wish.
FLORINDA.
I'm on Fire till I begin.—Adieu Brother.—Business
must not be neglected.
SCENE VII.
Julio, Hillario.
HILLARIO.
An Introduction to playing the Fool all one's Lifetime,
is very pretty Business truly—But how stand
Affairs with you Sir? When saw you your Lover last?
JULIO.
I parted from him this Moment: Pr'ythee, Hillario,
what dost think of him? may I venture to believe he
loves me?
HILLARIO.
Hum—I believe he may a little for the present—I
won't answer for him some two Months hence, if you
shou'd chance to marry within these six Weeks.
JULIO.
Why, as you say, Marriage does alter People strangely,
sometimes; but I must confess, I believe Vincentio will be
constant I'm sure, 'twou'd break my Heart to find him
otherwise.
HILLARIO.
Why how unreasonable that is now; wou'd you have
a Man feed upon one Dish for-ever?
-- 95 --
JULIO.
Why not? if it be wholesome, and proper Food.
HILLARIO.
Now I'm of another Opinion, let him rove a little,
and when he has surfeited himself abroad, he'll begin to
like his Home Fare the better.
JULIO.
Well, you may say what you will, but I'm persuaded
Vincentio will be constant.
HILLARIO.
Yes, as a Child to one Plaything, be pleas'd with you
for a Day, and then good bye t'ye Madam Wife.
JULIO.
If one were to mind you, one shou'd never marry.
HILLARIO.
Why Faith, I'm for advising all my Friends for the
best; but I see you're past Counsel, therefore speed you
together I say,—Soft a while, who comes here?
SCENE VIII.
To them a Gentleman.
GENTLEMAN.
Good Day t'ye Gentlemen, can you inform me
Where in the Purlieus of the Forest, stands
A Sheep-cote fenc'd around with Olive Trees?
JULIO.
The Western Path along the neighbouring Bottom,
(The Rank of Osiers by the murm'ring Stream
-- 96 --
Left on the Right) will bring you to the Place;
But at this Hour the House doth keep itself.
GENTLEMAN.
If Credit may be given to Description,
I then shou'd know you for the Owner of it;
Such Garments, and such Years; are you the Youth
Vincentio calls in Sport his dear Camilla?
JULIO.
'Tis no great Boast I think to say I am.
GENTLEMAN.
That noble Gentleman commends him to you,
And (for unluckily detain'd) intreats you
To hold him from his Word a while excus'd;
Mean Time, in Sign of his unspotted Faith,
He begs you to receive this bloody Handkerchief.
[Giving a Handkerchief.
JULIO.
What must we understand by this I pray you?
GENTLEMAN.
You may remember when he parted from you
He left a Promise to return again
Within two Hours; but pacing thro' the Forest
In silent Thought, he threw his Eye aside
On a low Bank, beneath a reverend Oak,
Moss'd o'er with Age, and bald of dry Antiquity;
Where the good Duke in gentle Slumbers lay,
While round his Neck a green, and gilded Snake,
Had wreath'd itself, and swift in Threats approach'd
The Op'ning of his Mouth; But suddenly
Seeing Vincentio, it unlink'd itself,
And with indented Glides did slip away
Into a neighb'ring Bush, beneath whose Shade
A Lioness, with Udders all drawn dry,
Lay couching, and with silent Watch observ'd
-- 97 --
When that the sleeping Prince shou'd stir; for 'tis
The royal Disposition of that Beast
To prey on nothing, that doth seem as dead.
JULIO.
Alas! my Fears! [Aside.] And did Vincentio leave him
Food to the parch'd, and hungry Lioness?
GENTLEMAN.
No, swift as Lightning on the Beast he flew,
Which quickly fell before him.
JULIO.
Gen'rous Youth!
[Aside.
GENTLEMAN.
The Duke i'th' Scuffle by the Noise awoke,
And having thank'd him for the kind Deliv'rance,
Back to the Cave together they return'd:
Vincentio, feeling an unusual Pain,
Here stripp'd himself, and found that from his Arm
The Lioness had torn some Flesh away,
Which being bar'd, in great Abundance bled;
With Loss of Blood he fainted; we recover'd him,
And bandag'd up his Wound; when calling me,
He sent me hither, Stranger as I am,
To tell the Tale, and give this Handkerchief,
Stain'd with his Blood, to thee fair Youth.
JULIO.
Ah me!
[Faints.
HILLARIO.
Why how now! Julio, sweet Julio.
GENTLEMAN.
Many will swoon when they do look on Blood.
HILLARIO.
There is no more in it. Why Julio!
GENTLEMAN.
Look! he recovers.
[Julio recovers.
-- 98 --
JULIO.
Wou'd I were at Home!
HILLARIO.
We'll lead you hither note. I pray you take him by the Arm.
JULIO.
Ha! ha! ha! Was not this well conterfeited? Pray
you tell Vincentio how I counterfeited.
GENTLEMAN.
This was no Counterfeit, there is too great a Testimony
in your Complexion that it was a Passion in earnest.
JULIO.
Counterfeit I assure you.
HILLARIO.
Come, you grow paler, and paler; pray let us go
homewards; good Sir go with us.
GENTLEMAN.
That will I, for I must bear Answer back
How you excuse my Friend.
JULIO.
I shall devise something as we go on; but be sure you
commend my counterfeiting.
SCENE X.
Marcellus alone.
So! these are the Effects of being in Love; 's Death!
I cou'd almost kill myself for being such a Coxcomb.
—Who, that knew me a Fortnight ago, wou'd ever
have thought of seeing me in this Condition?—
Yet after all what is it but an epidemick Disease, and
-- 99 --
what all the World has, at one Time or other, been
troubled with as well as myself?—Well thought again:
Why shou'd I endeavour to curb a Passion, the
greatest Heroes have with Pride indulg'd:—No.
Let prat'ling Fops the Pow'r of Love disown,
I'll pay a willing Homage to his Throne.
When Coxcombs disapprove, and Fools despise,
Contempt augments the Value of the Prize:
This is the Point, which most our Virtue proves,
And he alone is wise, who nobly loves.
End of the Fourth Act.
-- 100 --
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].
