Dorinda.
Dor.
Oh Sister! I have such a twittering after this Husband,
And my mouth doth so run in a civil way.
Mir.
Are you not breeding Teeth Sister?
Dor.
Zooks, if I am the King, shall know't.
Mir.
'Vads Sister, ever since my Father told me of it, which is at
least six Hours ago, I can't rest Day, nor Night, for ought I know.
Dor.
Its hole's hereabout, whereof looky' my Father said that it
should get me with Child pray.
Mir.
O lo! get you with Child, what's that?
Dor.
I can't tell, but I do so shake and laugh when I think of't.
Mir.
Heigh ho! whereof Sister you are affraid?—Let it come
to me, vads Sister I won't be affraid.
Dor.
Zooks Sister, if my Father should send a hundred to get me
with Child in a civil way, I wouldn't be affraid.
Mir.
O but Sister, whereof looky', my Father said that a Husband
was wild as a Cock-Sparrow or a Curl'd-Lamb, that he did now pray.
Dor.
Then I would chirrip to't, and make it hop, and stroak it,
and make it wag its tayl and Cry blea, 'till it 'twas as tame as a little
Lap-dog, but my Father says they are always gentle at home: and
wild abroad.
Mir.
Whereof Sister heark ye, now lets leave this idle talk, and
play the Scotch Morice.
Dor.
Then I'le play forward, and backward, for that's the way
now.
Mir.
No I won't play Boyes play,—I'le tell you what, you
should be a School Mistriss, and—
Dor.
No Sister, no I'le tell you what? You should be a Citizens
Wife pray, and so I should be a Lord looky', and I should come in a
Golden-Coach and be your Husbands Customer.
Mir.
Ay 'vads that's pretty.
-- 36 --
Dor.
So I should meet you at the Play-House, and say Madam
looky' 'tis a thousand pitties such a glazing Di'mond of beauty should
be the Slave of a dull Mechanick Cit. and cry what d'ee lack?
Whereof you should cry then, O Lord Sir, you are mistaken Zooks.
Mir.
O Lord Sir, you are mistaken Zooks!
Dor.
Then I should say Dam'ee Madam! you are a necklace for a
Prince, I'le settle Three Pounds a Year upon you, and you shall have
a Silver Baby, and a Silver house, and eat nothing but Golden
Custards, and Silver-Stew'd-Pruines: then you should say whereof
you have got a Wife of your own, my Lord?
Mir.
Then you should say whereof you have gotten a wife of your
own my Lord.
Dor.
Then I should throw my Wig, and say, Oh Madam! if you
love me, name her not. She's so dull and musty, the very thought of
her will make me swoun, Damher. But you I doat upon. So then
you should let me lye with you in a Civil way.
Mir.
O ay, ay, I love that y'vads!
Dor.
And then another should lye with you, and another, so at
last you should be catch'd in a Baudy-house with your Husbands
under Prentice looky', and so be brought to Bridewell as Mrs. Tweedlebum
was t'other day.
Mir.
No, no, Sister, I wont play so—I'le tell y' what, lets play
Truss-fayl, do pray now Sister.
Dor.
Come then, I'le lye down first.
Mir.
Truss.
Dor.
Fayl.
Mir.
Send me well upon my Grey Nags taile. O Sister, Sister!
here's the Husband thing coming.
Enter Hypolito reading gravely in a Horn-Book.
Dor.
Looky, looky, O sweet Father its Leggs are twice as long
as ours.
Mir.
What's that before so trim'd up with yellow Pissabeds, and
green Blew Bottles.
Dor.
See, see it pulls off half its head.
Mir.
Run Sister, run, I'me so affraid 'twill pull your head off too.
Dor.
Zooks! I would rather lose a hundred Heads if I had 'em,
then stir a foot.
Mir.
Oh! it looks angry, I'me so affraid for you Sister.
-- 37 --
Dor.
Fear not me, if I offend it, I'le ly down and paw it with my
Four-feet, as our Shock does when we beat it.
Pros. (Within)
Miranda, Miranda!
Dor.
O Sister! my Father calls you,—whereof she sayes she
won't come for'oth.
Mir.
She fibs, she fibs Father,—I wou'd come, but I am not
here for'oth—you spiteful pissabed Slut.
Dor.
But you are here for'oth.
Mir.
I wonder y'are so simple Sister, as if I could not tell where I
am better then you—for ought I know.
Dor.
I will take Husband first that I will.
Mir.
Hussey, am not I the Elder?
Dor.
Then you shou'dn't set your Wit against a Child.
Mir.
Well then Sister, I'le tell y'what, wee'l play heads or tails,
who goes first, that's fair now, e'nt it?
Dor.
Ay, and she that don't win shall lose and keep the door.
Mir.
Well ther's a good Girle, now toss up.
Dor.
A ha! my tails turn'd up, you must watch.
Mir.
Good dear Sister have done quickly, prithee do for because
you know why Sister.
[Exit Miranda.
Hyp.
Prospero has often told me, Nature makes nothing in vain,
why then is this kip kap here—tis not aw nor e nor ee nor oo,
nor l m n o-q-py you—it strangely puzles me; I'le ask him when I
see him next.
Dor.
Thing, thing, fine long thing.
Hyp.
Bessy come bunny, come buy me some lace Sugarcandy,
Cloves and Mace. Sure I am ready for a Wife now, I can read my abstruse
Horn Philosophy.
Dor.
O Rare thing, it talkes just like one of us.
Hyp.
Ha—what thing is that? Sure 'tis some Infant of the Park,
drest in her Mothers gayest beams of Impudence, and sent down
here to play at Hemp and Beetle; but stay, is not this that thing
call'd Wife? What art thou, thou fleering thing?
Dor.
Alass I am a Woman, and my Father says I must be a Wife in
a Civil way, pray thing don't be angry.
Hyp.
Angry, no, I'le sooner break my Trapstick; mun if thou
art that thing call'd Wife, which troubles poor men so that they can't
Wench in quiet—Prospero says that I must enjoy thee.
-- 38 --
Dor.
If thou art that thing call'd Husband which art alwayes sullen
and niggardly at home, but merry and expensive abroad. which
feedst a Wife with tripe and Cowes heels, and treatest a Mrs. with
Woodcock and Teale, and fine things, and at last turnest off a Wife
with just enough to buy Bread and Cheese and worsted Farendine,
but maintainst thy Miss like a Princess, my Father says thou must get
me with Child for ought I know.
Hyp.
Get thee with Child, O lo! whats that?
Dor.
Whereof I can't tell, but I think you must dig it out of the
Parsly-bed.
Hyp.
Show me the Parsly-bed then.
Dor.
I won't, you ha, got nothing to dig with: you said you must
enjoy me, what's that pray?
Hyp.
Why Prospero says you are like a Colt, and then you should
be backt.
Dor.
Phoe, I won't play so.
Hyp.
Won't you, then look to't, for you are but a Colly-flower,
and though y'are so proud to day you'l stink to morrow.
Dor.
Zooks this is the silli'st Husband-thing I ever saw: I'le run
into the Garden, and teach him more wit in a civil way.
Hyp.
Nay if you run from me like an Eel, I'le bite you by the tail.
[Exeunt running after each ohter.
Pros. (Within)
Miranda! Dorinda! Daughters, Daughters!
Enter Miranda hastily.
Mir.
Oh I'me glad my Father comes, for when Fire and Flax are
together, none knows how soon mischeif may be done. Dorinda,
Dorinda, my Fathers coming.
Enter Dorinda and Hypolito hastily. Hypolito runs off.
Dor.
O Sister pray lets Dance our new Heroick Song that our
Father mayn't know who was here.
They Sing and Dance. Enter Prospero observing them.
Mir.
Here comes a lusty Wooer, my dildin, my darling.
Here comes a lusty Wooer Lady bright and shining.
Dor.
I Wooe for one of your fair Daughters, my dildin, my darling.
I Wooe for &c.—Lady bright &c.
Mir.
I'm glad I have one for you my dild, &c.
I'm glad &c.—Lady bright, &c.
Dor.
She looks too brown upon me my dild, &c.
-- 39 --
She looks, &c.—Lady &c.
Pros.
Enough, enough, all this won't blind me, come, come, come,
stand, stand you here, and you there, nay, nay, nay, no [illeg.]pring:
Mir.
Indeed, and indeed, pray Father, I did but keep the door.
Pros.
Didst thou keep the door for thy younger Sister?
Mir.
Yes forsooth, pray Father, that I did.
Pros.
Blessing on thy pretty heart, cherish that gentile Motherly
humour, thou hast a generous Soul; and since I see thy mind so apt
to take the light impression of a modish Love, I will unfold a secret
to thee—That Creature, that thou saw'st, is a kind of a Creature
which is much like another Creature that shall be nameless, and
that's Quakero.
Mir.
But Father, pray Father, shall that Quakero Creature be my
Husband? You said I should have a Husband before she, that
you did.
Pros.
Shortly my Miranda thou shalt see the flower of this bud;
this Chit, chit, chit, chit, Cock-sparrow husband may serve thy Sister
well enough, thou shalt have a ho-ho-ho-ho-Husband, a Horseman,
go in I'le provide for thee.
Mir.
Let me have the ho-ho, quickly then pray Father.
[Going out she returns again.
Father, Father, I forgot to make my Cursy; b'wy Father.
[Exit Miranda.
Pros.
Come hither Dorinda, why saw you this Husband without
my order?
Dor.
Who I! truely I didn't saw'd him 'twas he saw'd me.
Pros.
Come, come, your Sister told me all.
Dor.
Then she fibs for ought I know, for she would ha' seen him
first, if I would ha' let her.
Pros.
Tell me what past between you?
Dor.
Nothing pass'd between us but our great dog Towzer.
Pros.
What did he do t'ee? come confess.
Dor.
He did nothing, but I am affraid he wou'd if you hadn't come.
Pros.
Why, why speak out?
Dor.
Because he came towards me with his tail up as stiffe as any
thing.
Pros.
Ha, I thought as much; wha what did he do then? the truth, I
charge you.
-- 40 --
Dor.
Why he did nothing but walk to his Kennel.
Pros.
Walk'd to his Kennel—who?
Dor.
Why our great dog Towzer.
Pros.
Pho, thou understandst me not, what did the Husband-thing
do to thee?
Dor.
Why nothing at all, for just as we got to the Parsly-bed, you
frighten'd it away.
Pros.
I charge you see it no more, 'twill Poyson you, and make
you swell as big as a house.
Dor.
Not see it, I'le run th'rough Nine Walls, but I'le see it, and
have it to, though it make me swell 'till I break in peeces.
Pros.
Go get you in, y'are a naughty Girle.
Dor.
The World's come to a very fine pass for ought I know,
one can't play with a thing an hour or two alone, or be in bed with
a man, but one must be naught: I won't endure it much long, that
I won't so.
[Exit Dorinda.
Pros.
So—my wishing Pipe
Has swell'd my hopeing Cistern to a Flood.
Dorind' and Polito's agreed, that's good.
Now for Miranda, and the youth Quakero;
When they are coupl'd too—there ends my Care'o.
[Exit Prospero.
Thomas Duffett [1675], The Mock-tempest: or the Enchanted Castle. Acted at the Theatre Royal. Written By T. Duffett (Printed for William Cademan [etc.], London) [word count] [S36900].
