J. C. Ghosh (ed.), The Works of Thomas Otway, Vol. 2: Plays, Poems, and Love-Letters

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Beaugard and his Father.
Editor’s Note1

Beaug. SIR, I say, and say again, No Matrimony; I'll 2not be noos'd. Why, I beseech you, Sir, tell me 3Plainly and fairly, What have I done, that I deserve to be 4married!


Fath. Why, Sauce-box, I, your old Father, was married 6before you were born.


Beaug. Ay, Sir; and I thank you, the next thing you 8did, was, you begot me; the Consequence of which was as 9follows: As soon as I was born, you sent me to Nurse, 10where I suckt two years at the dirty Dugs of a foul-11feeding Witch, that liv'd in a thatch't Sty upon the neigh-12b'ring Common; as soon as I was big enough, that you 13might be rid of me, you sent me to a Place call'd a School, 14to be slash't and box't by a thick-fisted Blockhead, that 15could not read himself; where I learnt no Letters, nor got 16no Meat, but such as the old Succubus his Wife bought at 17a stinking Price, so over-run with Vermin, that it us'd to 18crawl home after her.


Fath. Sirrah, it was the more nourishing, and made such 20young, idle Whoresons as you fat, fat, you Rogue. I re-21member the young Dog at twelve years old had a broad, 22shining, pufft, Bacon-face, like a Cherubim; and now he 23won't marry.


Beaug. My next Removal was home again; and then 25you did not know what to do with me farther, till after 26a Twelve-months Deliberation, out of abundance of pg 30027Fatherly Affection and Care of your Posterity, you very 28civilly and fairly turn'd me out of your Doors.


Fath. The impudent, termagant, unruly Varlet rebell'd 30with too much Plenty, and took up Arms against my Con-31cubine. Turn'd you out of my Doors!


Beaug. Yes, turn'd' me out of Doors, Sir.


Fath. Had I not reason, Master Hector?


Beaug. As I had then, so have I now too, Sir, more 35Manners than to dispute the pleasure of a Father.


Fath. Nay, the Rogue has Breeding, that's the truth 37on't; the Dog would be a very pretty Fellow, if I could 38but perswade him to marry.


Beaug. Turn'd out of Doors as I was, you may remem-40ber, Sir, you gave me not a Shilling; my Industry and my 41Vertue was all I had to trust to.


Fath. Bless us all! Industry and Vertue, quoth a! Nay, 43I have a very vertuous Son and Heir of him, that's the 44truth on't.


Beaug. Till at last a good Uncle, who now, Peace be 46with his Soul, sleeps with his Fathers, bestow'd a Portion 47of Two hundred pounds upon me, with which I took Ship-48ping, and set Sail for the Coast of Fortune.


Fath. That is to say, You went to the Wars, to learn 50the Liberal Arts of Murder, Whoredom, Burning, Ravish-51ing, and a few other necessary Accomplishments for a 52young Gentleman to set up a Livelihood withal, in this 53Civil Government, where, Heav'n be prais'd, none of those 54Vertues need grow rusty.


Beaug. Sir, I hope I have brought you no Dishonour 56home with me.

Editor’s Note57

Fath. Nay, the Scanderbeg-Monkey has not behav'd him-58self unhandsomly, that's the truth of the Bus'ness; but 59the Varlet won't marry: the Dog has got Two thousand 60pound a year left him by an old curmudgeonly moldy 61Uncle, and I can't perswade him to marry.


Beaug. Sir, that curmudgeonly moldy Uncle you speak 63of, was your Elder Brother, and never married in all his pg 30164Life: He, dying, bequeaths me Two thousand pound a year: 65You, Sir, the younger Brother, and my honoured Father, 66have been married, and are not able, for ought I can per-67ceive, to leave me a bent Ninepence. So, Sir, I wish you 68a great deal of Health, Long life, and merry as it has been 69hitherto; but for Marriage, it has thriven so very ill with 70my Family already, that I am resolved to have nothing to 71do with it.


Fath. Here's a Rogue! Here's a Villain! Why, Sirrah, 73you have lost all Grace; you have no Duty left; you are 74a Rebel: I shall see you hang'd, Sirrah. Come, come, let 75me examine you a little, while I think on't: What Religion 76are you of?—hah?——


Beaug. Sir, I hope you took care, after I was born, to 78see me Christen'd.


Fath. Oh Lord! Christen'd! Here's an Atheistical Rogue, 80thinks he has Religion enough, if he can but call himself a 81Christian!


Beaug. Why, Sir, would you have me disown my 83Baptism?


Fath. No, Sirrah: but I would have you own what sort Critical Apparatus85of Christian you are though.


Beaug. What sort, Sir?


Fath. Ay, Sir; what sort, Sir.


Beaug. Why, of the honestest sort.


Fath. As if there were not Knaves of all sorts!


Beaug. Why then, Sir, if that will satisfie you, I am of 91your sort.


Fath. And that, for ought you know, may be of no sort 93at all.


Beaug. But, Sir, to make short of the matter, I am of 95the Religion of my Country, hate Persecution and Penance,? 96love Conformity, which is going to Church once a Month, 97well enough; resolve to make this transitory Life as 98pleasant and delightful as I can; and for some sober 99Reasons best known to my self, resolve never to marry,

pg 302 100

Fath. Look me in the Face; stand still, and look me in 101the Face. So; you won't marry?——


Beaug. No, Sir.


Fath. Oh Lord!


Beaug. But I'll do something that shall be more for 105your good, and perhaps may please you as well. Knowing Critical Apparatus106Fortune of late has not been altogether so good-natur'd 107as she might have been, and that your Revenues are some-108thing anticipated, be pleas'd, Sir, to go home as well 109satisfi'd as you can, and my Servant shall not fail to meet Editor’s Note110you at your Lodgings, with a Hundred smiling Smock-111fac't Guinea's, within this half-hour: Now who the Devil 112would marry?


Fath. No Body that has half an ounce of Brains in his 114Noddle: The ungodly good-natur'd Rogue is in the right 115on't; damnably, damnably in the right on't.


Beaug. So, here's your Father for you now!


Fath. But look you Jack now, little Jack, Two thousand 118pounds a year! Why thou wilt be a damnable rich Rogue 119now, if thou dost not marry; though I know thou wilt live 120bravely and deliciously, eat and drink nobly, have always 121half a dozen honest, jolly, true-spirited, spritely Friends 122about thee, and so forth, hah! Then for Marriage, to speak 123the truth on't, it is at the best but a chargeable, vexatious, 124uneasie sort of Life; it ruin'd me, Jack, utterly ruin'd thy 125poor old Father, Jack. Thou wilt be sure to remember the 126Hundred pound, Jackie-boy, hah?


Beaug. Most punctually, Sir.


Fath. Thou shalt always, ever now and then, that is, 129lend thy old Father a Hundred pound, or so, upon a good 130occasion, Jack, after this manner, in a Friendly way: You 131must make much of your old Daddy, Jack: But if thou 132hast no mind to't, the truth on't is, I would never have thee 133marry.


Beaug. Not marry, Sir?


Fath. No.

pg 303 136

Beaug. No?


Fath. No. A Hundred Pound, Jack, is a pretty little 138round Sum.


Beaug. I'll not fail of sending it.


Fath. Then, Jack, it will do as well to let thy Man come 141to me to Harry the Eighth's Head in the Back Street, behind 142my Lodgings: There's a Cup of smart Racy Canary, Jack, 143will make an old Fellow's Heart as light as a Feather. Ah, 144little Jackie-rogue, it Glorifies through the Glass, and the Editor’s Note145Nits dance about in't like Attorns in the Sun-shine, you 146young Dog.


Beaug. Do you intend to Dine there, Sir?


Fath. Ay, Man; I have two or three bonny old Tilbury 149Roysterers, with delicate red Faces, and bald Crowns, that 150have obliged me to meet 'em there; they helpt me to spend 151my Estate when I was young, and the Rogues are grateful, 152and do not forsake me now I am grown poorish and old. 153Almost Twelve a clock, Jack.


Beaug. I'll be sure to remember, Sir.


Fath. And thou wilt never marry!


Beaug. Never, I hope, Sir.


Fath. Ah, you wicked-hearted Rogue, I know what you 158will do then, that will be worse, though, I think, not much 159worse neither. Would I were a young Fellow again, but 160to keep him Company for one Week or a Fortnight. A 161hundred Guinea's! e e e e! Db'uy Jack. You'l remember? 162See thee agen to morrow, Jack.——Poor Jack! Dainty 163Canary——and a delicate Black-ey'd Wench at the Bar! 164Db'uy Jack. ⟨Exit.⟩


Beaug. Adieu, Father.——Fourbine.


Fourb. Did your Honour call?


Beaug. Take a hundred Guinea's out of the Cabinet, and 168carry 'em after the Old Gentleman to his Place of Rendez-169vous. This Father of mine (Heav'n be thanked) is a very 170ungodly Father: He was in his Youth just such another 171wicked Fellow as his Son John here; but he had no Estate, 172there I have the better of him: for out of meer Opinion pg 304173of my Good-husbandry, my Uncle thought fit to disinherit 174the extravagant Old Gentleman, and leave all to me. Then 175he was married, there I had the better of him again; yet 176he married a Fortune of Ten thousand pound, and before 177I was Seven years old, had broke my Mothers Heart, and 178spent three parts of her Portion: Afterwards he was pleas'd 179to retain a certain Familiar Domestick, call'd a House-180keeper, which I one day, to shew my Breeding, call'd 181Whore, and was fairly turn'd a starving for it. Now he 182has no way to squeeze me out of Contribution, but by 183taking up his Fatherly Authority, and offering to put the 184Penal Law call'd Marriage in execution. I must e'en get 185him a Governour, and send him with a Pension into the 186Country: Ay, it must be so; For, Wedlock, I deny thee; 187Father, I'll supply thee; and, Pleasure, I will have thee. 188Who's there?

Enter a Servant.

Serv. Oh, Sir, the most fortunate Tidings!


Beaug. What's the matter?


Serv. Captain Courtine, your old Acquaintance, Friend, 192and Comrade, is just arrived out of the Country, and desires 193to see you, Sir.


Beaug. Courtine! Wait on him up, you Dog, with 195í Reverence and Honour.

Enter Courtine.

Court. Dear Beaugard!


Beaug. Ah, Friend!——from the very tenderest part of 198my Heart I was just now wishing for thee. Why thou 199lookst as like a Married-man already, with as grave a Editor’s Note200Fatherly Famelick Countenance, as ever I saw.


Court. Ay, Beaugard, I am married, that's my Comfort: 202But you, I hear, have had worse Luck of late; an old 203Uncle dropt into the Grave, and Two thousand pound a 204year into your Pocket, Beaugard.


Beaug. A small Conveniency, Ned, to make my Hap-206piness hereafter a little more of a piece than it has been pg 305207hitherto, in the Enjoyment of such hearty, sincere, honest 208Friends, and good-natur'd Fellows, as thou art.


Court. Sincere, honest Friends! Have a care there, Beau- 210gard.——I am, since I saw thee, in a few words, grown an 211errant Raskal; and for Good-nature, it is the very thing 212I have solemnly forsworn: no, I am married, Jack, in the 213Devil's name, I am married.


Beaug. Married! That is, thou call'st a Woman thou 215likest by the name of Wife: Wife and t'other thing begin 216with a Letter. Thou liest with her when thy Appetite calls 217thee, keepest the Children thou begettest of her Body; 218allowest her Meat, Drink, and Garments, fit for her 219Quality, and thy Fortune; and when she grows heavy upon Critical Apparatus220thy Hands, what a Pox, 'tis but a Separate-maintenance, 221kiss and part, and there is an end of the Bus'ness.


Court. Alas, Beaugard, thou art utterly mistaken; 223Heav'n knows it is quite on the contrary: For I am forced 224to call a Woman I do not like, by the name of Wife; and 225lie with her, for the most part, with no Appetite at all; 226must keep the Children that, for ought I know, any Body 227else may beget of her Body; and for Food and Rayment, 228by her good will she would have them both Fresh three 229times a day: Then for Kiss and part, I may kiss and kiss 230my Heart out, but the Devil a bit shall I ever get rid of her.


Beaug. Alas, poor Husband! But art thou really in this 232miserable Condition?


Court. Ten times worse, if possible: By the vertue of 234Matrimony, and long Cohabitation, we are grown so really 235One Flesh, that I have no more Inclination to hers, than 236to eat a piece of my own. Then her Ladiship is so Jealous, 237that she does me the Honour to make me Stalion-general 238to the whole Parish, from the Parson's Importance in 239Paragon, to the Cobler's scolding Wife, that drinks Brandy, 240and smoaks loathsom Tobacco. In short, Jack, she has so 241order'd the Bus'ness, that I am half weary of the World, wish 242all Mankind hang'd, and have not laugh'd these Six months.

pg 306 243

Beaug. Ha, ha, ha!


Court. Why, thou canst laugh, I see, though.


Beaug. Ay, Ned, I have Two thousand pound per 246Annum, Ned, old Rents, and well Tenanted; have no Wife, 247nor ever will have any, Ned; resolve to make my Days of 248Mortality all Joyful, and Nights Pleasurable, with some 249dear, lovesom, young, beautiful, kind, generous She, that 250every Night shall bring me all the Joys of a New Bride, 251and none of the Vexations of a worn-out, insipid, trouble-252som, jealous Wife, Wife, Ned.


Court. But where lies this Treasure? Where is there such 254a Jewel to be found?


Beaug. Ah, Rogue! Do you despise your own Manna 256indeed, and long after Quails? Why, thou unconscionable 257Hobnail, thou Country Cowlstaff, thou absolute Piece of 258thy own dry'd Dirt, wouldst thou have the Impudence, 259with that hideous Beard, and grisly Countenance, to make 260thy Appearance before the Footstool of a Bona Roba that Editor’s Note261I delight in? For shame get off that Smithfield Horse-262coursers Equipage; Appear once more like Courtine the 263Gay, the Witty, and Unbounded, with Joy in thy Face, 264and Love in thy Blood, Money in thy Pockets, and good 265Cloaths on thy Back; and then I'll try to give thee a 266Recipe that may purge away those foul Humours Matri-267mony has bred in thee, and fit thee to rellish the Sins 268of thy Youth again. Bless us! What a Beard's there? It 269puts me in mind of the Blazing Star.


Court. Beard, Beaugard! Why, I wear it on purpose, 271Man; I have wish't it a Furze-bush a thousand times, 272when I have been kissing my——


Beaug. Whom?——


Court. Wife.——Let me never live to bury her, if the 275word Wife does not stick in my Throat.


Beaug. Then this Penique! Why, it makes thee shew 277like the Sign of a Head looking out at a Barbers Window.


Court. No more, no more; all shall be rectified: For, to 279deal with thee as honestly as a Fellow in my damn'd Con-pg 307280dition can do, e'er I resolv'd absolutely to hang my self, 281I thought there might be some Remedy left; and that was 282this dear Town, and thy dear Friendship: So that, in short, 283I am very fairly run away; pretended a short Journey to 284visit a Friend, but came to London; and, if it be possible, 285will not see Country, Wife, nor Children agen these seven 286years. Therefore, prethee, for my better Encouragement, 287tell me a little what Sins are stirring in this Noble Metro-288polis, that I may know my Bus'ness the better, and fall to 289it as fast as I can.

Editor’s Note290

Beaug. Why, 'faith, Ned, considering the Plot, the Dan-291ger of the Times, and some other Obstructions of Trade 292and Commerce, Iniquity in the general has not lost much 293Ground. There's Cheating and Hypocrisie still in the 294City; Riot and Murder in the Suburbs; Grinning, Ly-295ing, Fawning, Flattery, and False-promising at Court; Editor’s Note296Assignations at Covent-garden Church; Cuckolds, Whores, 297Pimps, Panders, Bawds, and their Diseases, all over the 298Town.


Court. But what Choice Spirits, what Extraordinary 300Rascals may a Man oblige his Curiosity withal?


Beaug. I'll tell thee: In the first place, we are over-run 302with a Race of Vermin they call Wits, a Generation of 303Insects that are always making a Noise, and buzzing about 304your Ears, concerning Poets, Plays, Lampoons, Libels, 305Songs, Tunes, Soft Scenes, Love, Ladies, Peruques, and 306Crevat-strings, French Conquests, Duels, Religion, Snuff-Editor’s Note307boxes, Points, Garnitures, Mill'd Stockings, Foubert's 308Academy, Politicks, Parliament-Speeches, and every thing 309else which they do not understand, or would have the 310World think they did.


Court. And are all these Wits?


Beaug. Yes, and be hang'd to 'em, these are the Wits.


Court. I never knew one of these Wits in my Life, that 314did not deserve to be Pillory'd; twenty to one if half of 315'em can read, and yet they will venture at Learning as 316familiarly, as if they had been bred in the Vatican. One pg 308317of 'em told me one day, he thought Plutarch well done 318would make the best English Heroick Poem in the World. 319Besides, they will rail, cavil, censure, and, what is worst 320of all, make Jests; the dull Rogues will Jest, though they 321do it as awkerdly as a Tarpawlin would ride the Great 322Horse. I hate a pert, dull, Jesting Rogue from the bottom 323of my Heart.


Beaug. But above all, the most abominable is your 325Witty Squire, your young Heir that is very Witty; who 326having newly been discharg'd from the Discretion of a 327Governour, and come to keep his own Money, gets into 328a Cabal of Coxcombs of the Third Form, who will be sure 329to cry him up for a Fine Person, that he may think all 330them so.


Court. Oh, your Asses know one anothers Nature exactly, 332and are always ready to nabble, because it is the certain Editor’s Note333way to be nabbled again: But above all the rest, what think 334you of the Atheist?


Beaug. By this good Light, thou hast prevented me: 336I have one for thee of that Kind, the most unimitable 337Varlet, and the most insufferable Stinkard living; one that 338has Doubts enow to turn to all Religions, and yet would 339fain pretend to be of none: In short, a Cheat, that would 340have you of opinion that he believes neither Heav'n nor 341Hell, and yet never feels so much as an Ague-fit, but he's 342afraid of being damn'd.


Court. That must be a very Noble Champion, and cer-344tainly an Original.


Beaug. The Villain has less Sincerity than a Bawd, less 346Courage than a Hector, less Good-nature than a Hangman, Critical Apparatus347and less Charity than a Phanatique; talks of Religion and 348Church-Worship as familiarly as a little Courtier does of 349the Maids of Honour; and swears the King deserves to 350be Chan'd out of the City, for suffering Zealous Fools to Editor’s Note351build Pauls again, when it would make so proper a Place 352for a Citadel.

pg 309 353

Court. A very worthy Member of a Christian Common-354wealth, that is the truth on't.


Beaug. I am intimately acquainted with him.


Court. I honour you for't, with all my Heart, Sir.


Beaug. After all, the Rogue has some other little tiny 358Vices, that are not very ungrateful.


Court. Very probable.

Editor’s Note360

Beaug. He makes a very good odd Man at Ballum- 361rancum, or so; that is, when the rest of the Company is 362coupled, will take care to see there's good Attendance paid; 363and when we have a mind to make a Ballum of it indeed, 364there is no Lewdness so scandalous that he will not be 365very proud to have the Honour to be put upon.


Court. A very necessary Instrument of Damnation, truly.


Beaug. Besides, to give the Devil his due, he is seldom 368Impertinent; but, barring his Darling-Topick, Blasphemy, 369a Companion pleasant enough. Shall I recommend him to 370thy Service? I'll enter into Bonds of Five hundred pounds, 371that he teaches thee as good a way to get rid of that Whip 372and a Bell, call'd thy Wife, as thy Heart would wish for.


Court. And that is no small Temptation, I assure you.

Enter Boy, with a Letter.

Boy. Sir!


Beaug. My Child!


Court. A Pimp, for a Guiny, he speaks so gently to him.


Beaug. Tell her, she has undone me, she has chosen the 378only way to enslave me utterly; tell her, my Soul, my Life, 379my future Happiness, and present Fortune, are only what 380she'll make 'em.


Boy. At Seven, Sir.


Beaug. Most infallibly.


Court. Ay, ay, 'tis so: Now what a damn'd Country-384Itch have I, to dive into the Secret! Beaugard, Beaugard, 385are all things in a readiness? the Husband out of the way, 386the Family dispos'd of? Come, come, come, no trifling; be 387free-hearted and friendly.

pg 310 388

Beaug. You are married, Ned, you are married; that's 389all I have to say: you are married.


Court. Let a Man do a foolish thing once in his Life-391time, and he shall always hear of it.——Married, quoth 'a! 392Prethee be patient: I was married about a Twelvemonth 393ago, but that's past and forgotten. Come, come, com-394municate, communicate, if thou art a Friend, communi-395cate.


Beaug. Not a Tittle. I have Conscience, Ned, Con-397science; tho I must confess 'tis not altogether so Gentle-398man-like a Companion: But what a Scandal would it be 399upon a Man of my sober Demeanour and Character, to 400have the unmerciful Tongue of thy Legitimate Spouse 401roaring against me, for Debauching her Natural Husband!


Court. It has been otherwise, Sir.


Beaug. Ay, ay, the time has been, Courtine, when thou 404wert in possession of thy Natural Freedom, and mightest 405be trusted with a Secret of this dear nature; when I might 406have open'd this Billet, and shew'd thee this bewitching 407Name at the bottom: But wo and alas! O Matrimony, 408Matrimony! what a Blot art thou in an honest Fellows 409Scutcheon!


Court. No more to be said; I'll into the Country again, 411like any discontented Statesman, get drunk every Night 412with an adjacent Schoolmaster, beat my Wife to a down-413right Housekeeper, get all my Maid-servants every Year 414with Bastards, till I can command a Seraglio five Miles 415round my own Palace, and be beholden to no Man of Two 416thousand pound a year for a Whore, when I want one.


Beaug. Good words, Ned, good words, let me advise you; 418none of your Mariage-qualities of Scolding and Railing, 419now you are got out of the turbulent Element. Come 420hither, come; but first let us capitulate: Will you promise 421me, upon your Conjugal Credit, to be very governable, 422and very civil?


Court. As any made Spaniel, or hang me up for a Cur.


Beaug. Then this Note, this very Billet, Ned, comes pg 311425from a Woman, who, when I was strowling very pensively 426last Sunday to Church, watch't her Opportunity, and 427poach'd me up for the Service of Satan.


Court. Is she very handsom, Beaugard?


Beaug. These Country Squires, when they get up to 430Town, are as termagant after a Wench, as a ty'd-up hungry 431Cur, got loose from Kennel, is after Crusts. Very handsom, 432said you? Let me see: No, not very handsom neither; but 433she'll pass, Ned, she'll pass.


Court. Young?


Beaug. About Eighteen.


Court. Oh Lord!


Beaug. Her Complexion fair, with a glowing Blush 438always ready in her Cheeks, that looks as Nature were 439watching every Opportunity to seize and run away with 440her.


Court. Oh the Devil, the Devil! This is intolerable.


Beaug. Her Eyes black, sparkling, spriteful, hot, and 443piercing.


Court. The very Description of her shoots me through 445my Liver.


Beaug. Her Hair of a delicate light Amber-brown, curl-447ing in huge Rings, and of a great Quantity,


Court. So.


Beaug. Her Forehead large, Majestick, and generous.


Court. Very well.


Beaug. Her Nose neat, and well-fashioned.


Court. Good.


Beaug. With a delicious, little, pretty, smiling Mouth.


Court. Oh!

Editor’s Note455

Beaug. Plump, red, blub Lips.


Court. Ah h——


Beaug. Teeth whiter than so many little Pearls; a be-458witching Neck, and tempting, rising, swelling Breasts.


Court. Ah h h h h——


Beaug. Then such a Proportion, such a Shape, such a 461Waste——

pg 312 462

Court. Hold: Go no lower, if thou lov'st me.


Beaug. But, by your leave, Friend, I hope to go some-464thing lower, if she loves me.


Court. But art thou certain, Beaugard, she is all this 466thou hast told me? So fair, so tempting, so lovely, so 467bewitching?


Beaug. No; for, you must know, I never saw her Face 469in my Life: But I love my own Pleasure so well, that I'll 470imagine all this, and ten times more, if it be possible.


Court. Where lives she?


Beaug. That I know not neither; but my Orders are to 473meet her fairly and squarely this Evening by Seven, at 474a certain Civil Persons Shop in the Upper Walk, at the Editor’s Note475New Exchange, where she promises to be very good 476natur'd, and let me know more of her Mind.


Court. I'll e'en go home, like a miserable Blockhead as 478I am, to my Lodging, and sleep.


Beaug. No, Ned: Thou knowest my good Chances have 480always been luckie to thee: Who can tell but this Lady-481errant that has seis'd upon my Person, may have a strag-482ling Companion, or so, not unworthy my Friend's.


Court. 'Tis impossible.


Beaug. Not at all; for, to deal heartily with thee in this 485Business, tho I never saw her Face, or know who she is, 486yet thus far I am satisfied, she is a Woman very witty, 487very well bred, of a pleasant Conversation, with a generous 488Disposition, and, what is better than all, if I am not 489extremely misinform'd, of Noble Quality, and damnably 490Rich. Such a one cannot want good, pretty, little, Under-491sinners, Ned, that a Man may fool away an Hour or two 492withal very comfortably.


Court. Why then I'll be a Man again. Wife, avaunt, and 494come not near my Memory; Impotence attends the very 495Thoughts of thee. At Seven, you say, this Evening?


Beaug. Precisely.


Court. And shall I go along with thee, for a small Ven-498ture in this Love-Voyage?

pg 313 499

Beaug. With all my Heart.


Court. But how shall we dispose of the burdensom Time, 501till the happy Minute smile upon us?


Beaug. With Love's best Friend, and our own honest 503old Acquaintance, edifying Champagn, Ned; and for good 504Company, tho it be a Rarity, I'll carry thee to dine with 505the best I can meet with, where we'll warm our Blood and 506Thoughts with generous Glasses, and free-hearted Con-507verse, till we forget the World, and think of nothing but 508Immortal Beauties, and Eternal Loving.


Court. Then here I strike the League with thee: And now 510Methinks w'are both upon the Wing together, 511Bound for new Realms of Joy, and Lands of Pleasure; 512Where Men were never yet enslav'd by Wiving, 513But all their Cares are handsomly contriving 514T'improve the Noble Arts of Perfect living.

End of the First Act.

Notes Settings


Editor’s Note
I. 1. For the anti-matrimonial sentiments of the Restoration gallant, and his love of a life of pleasure, to which Beaugard gives expression in Act 1, cf. The Character of a Town Gallant, 1675:

His Trade is making of Love, yet he knows no difference between that and Lust, and tell him of a Virgin at Sixteen, he shall swear then Miracles are not ceas'd. He is so bitter an Enemy to Marriage, that one would suspect him born out of Lawfull Wedlock, For he never hears Matrimony nam'd but he sweats and starts as bad as at the Salute of a Serjeant and has 40 Lines of Conjugium Conjurgium got ready by heart to rail at it. But for the most delicious Recreation of Whoring, he protests a Gentleman cannot live without it:

Editor’s Note
57. Scanderbeg-Monkey: from Scanderbeg or George Castriotes, the famous Albanian warrior, who led a successful opposition against the Turks in the 15th century; in common use in a contemptuous sense.
Critical Apparatus
i. 85 though
Critical Apparatus
106 altogeter
Editor’s Note
110. Smock-fac't: i.e. having a pale smooth face; effeminate-looking; here in a transferred sense (O.E.D.).
Editor’s Note
I. 145. Nits: small gnats or flies.
Editor’s Note
200. Famelick: obs. adj. from 'family'.
Critical Apparatus
220 a' Pox,
Editor’s Note
261. Bona-Roba: see note, Friendship in F., V. 522.
Editor’s Note
261–2. Smithfield Horse-coursers Equipage: a 'horsecourser' was a jobbing dealer in horses. Smithfield was well known for its cattle-market. Bardolph went there to buy a horse for Falstaff. For a description of the horse-coursers of Smithfield cf. The London Spy, V. 1699, p. 11:

Pray Friend, said I, what are those Eagle-look'd Fellows in their Narrow-brim'd White-Beavers, Jockeys Coats, a Spur in one heel, and Bended Sticks in their Hands, that are so busily peeping into every Horses Mouth, and saunter about the Market like Wolves in a Wildness, as if they were seeking whom they should Devour? Those Blades, says my Friend, are a subtle sort of Smithfield-Foxes, call'd Horse-Coursers, who Swear every Morning by the Bridle, They will never from any Man suffer a Knavish Trick, or ever do an Honest one. They are a sort of English Jews, that never deal with a Man but they Cheat him; and have a rare faculty of Swearing a Man out of his Sense; Lying him out of his Reason, and Cozening him out of his Money….

Editor’s Note
290. the Plot: the Rye House Plot, revealed in June, 1683.
Editor’s Note
296. Assignations at Covent-garden Church: Cf. The London Spy, ix. 1699, p. 12:

We over-took abundance of Religious Lady-birds, Arm'd against the Assaults of Satan, with Bible or Common-Prayer-Book, marching with all Godspeed to Covent-Garden-Church; Certainly, said I, the People of this Parish are better Christians than ordinary, for I never observed upon a Week day, since I came to London, such a Sanctified Troop of Females flocking to their Devotions, as I see at this part of the Town. These, says my Friend, are a Pious sort of Creatures that are much given to go to Church, and may be seen there every Day at Prayers, as Constantly as the Bell rings; and if you were to walk the other way you might see as many Young-Gentlemen, from the Temple and Grays Inn, going to Joyn with them in their Devotions; we'll take a Turn into the Sanctuary among the rest, and you shall see how they behave themselves: Accordingly we step'd into the Rank, amongst the Lambs of Grace, and enter'd the Tabernacle with the rest of the Saints, where we found a parcel of very Handsome Cleanly well-Drest Christians, as a Man would desire to Communicate with, of both Sexes, who stood Ogling one another with as much Zeal and Sincerity, as if they Worship'd the Creator in the Creature, and Whispering to their next Neighbours, as if according to the Text, they were confessing their Sins to one another; which I afterwards understood, by my Friend, was only to make Assignations….

Editor’s Note
I. 307. Points: i.e. thread lace made with the needle. This modish term had recently come into use. The O.E.D. does not give any instance earlier than 1662.
Garnitures: see note, Alcibiades, Prol. 18.
Mill'd Stockings: i.e. ribbed. The earliest instance in the O.E.D.
Editor’s Note
307–8. Foubert's Academy: the academy for riding, fencing, and other forms of physical training established by Monsieur or Major Foubert near Haymarket in the latter part of the reign of Charles II. The place where it stood was called 'Foubert's Passage' and is now called 'Foubert's Place' (Wheatley, London).
Editor’s Note
333. nabble: knabble, nibble.
Editor’s Note
351. build Pauls again: St. Paul's Church was destroyed by the Great Fire of 1665.
Editor’s Note
360–1. Ballum-rancum: naked dance; used again in Act iii. 578.
Editor’s Note
455. blub Lips: see note, Souldiers F., i. 252.
Editor’s Note
475. New Exchange: see note, Friendship in F., v. 517.
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