Act 2 — Scene I. Sir Rowland’s Lodging.
Reading edition
Scene I. Sir Rowland’s Lodging.
Enter Sir Rowland, Teresia, and Lady Youthly, &c.
L. Youth. Well, Sir Rowland, if I should be inclin’d to cast away my self on your Son George, what wou’d you settle?
Sir Row. Settle! not a Souse, Madam; he carries the best younger Brother’s Fortune in Christendom about him.
L. Youth. Why, the young Man’s deserving, I confess. But he’s your Son, Sir Rowland, and something ought to be settled upon the Heirs of our Bodies, lawfully begotten.
Sir Row. All Hercules his Labours were a Jig to his that shall beget ’em. Aside.
If you like him upon these terms, to make him Master of your Fortune—
L. Youth. For that, let him trust to me, and his own deservings.
Sir Row. No trusting in these fickle Times, Madam—Why, I’ll let the young sturdy Rogue out to hire; he’ll make a pretty Livelihood at Journey-Work; and shall a Master-Workman, a Husband, deserve nothing?
L. Youth. Ay, these Husbands that know their own Strength, as they say, set so high a value on their conjugal Virtues. And if he be disloyal, again o’t’other side he gives a Wife so ill an Example—for we are all liable to Temptations.
Sir Row. Well said; if thou beest so, it must be the old Tempter himself. Aside.
Look ye, Madam, I’ll propose a fair Swap; if you’ll consent that I shall marry Teresia, I’ll consent that you shall marry George.
L. Youth. How, my Grand-daughter? Why, I design’d her for your eldest Son, Sir Merlin; and she has a good Fortune of five hundred a year that I cannot hinder her of; and is too young for you.
Sir Row. So is George for your Ladyship; and as for his Fortune, ’tis more than likely I shall make him my eldest Son.
L. Youth. Say you so, Sir, well, I’ll consider, and take Advice of my Friends.
Sir Row. Consider! alas, Madam, my House will be besieged by all the Widows in Town; I shall get more by shewing him, than the Rhinoceros. Gad, I’ll sell the young Rogue by Inch of Candle, before he’s debauch’d and spoil’d in this leud Town.
L. Youth. Well, suppose—
Sir Row. Nothing under Teresia—Gad, I think some old Dog-Star reigns to Day, that so many old Hearts are burning in their Sockets—I’m in love with this young Tittymouse here, most damnably—Well, what say you, Widow? Speak now, or you know the Proverb.
L. Youth. Well, Sir Rowland, you are too hard for me.
Ex. all but Teresia.
Enter Olivia, runs to her and embraces her.
Ter. ’Tis as you said, Olivia, I am destin’d to your Father.
Oliv. What, the Sentence is past then?
Ter. Ay, but the Devil is in us, if we stay till Execution Day: Why, this is worse than being mew’d up at Hackney-School—my Fortune’s my own, without my Grandmother, and with that Stock I’ll set up for my self, and see what Traffick this wide World affords a young beginner.
Oliv. That’s well resolv’d; I am of the same mind, rather than marry Mr. Welborn, whom I never saw.—But prithee let’s see what we have in Stock, besides ready Money—What Toys and Knick-nacks to invite.
Ter. Faith, my Inventory is but small—Let me see—First, one pretty well made Machine, call’d a Body, of a very good Motion, fit for several uses—one pretty conceited Head-Piece, that will fit any body’s Coxcomb,—when ’tis grave and dull, ’twill fit an Alderman; when politick and busy, a Statesman; turn it to Intrigue, ’twill fit a City Wife; and to Invention, it will set up an Evidence.
Oliv. Very well!
Ter. Item, One Tongue, that will prattle Love, if you put the Heart in time (for they are Commodities I resolve shall go together) I have Youth enough to please a Lover, and Wit enough to please my self.
Oliv. Most excellent Trifles all! As for my out-side, I leave to the Discretion of the Chafferer; but I have a rare Device, call’d an Invention, that can do many Feats; a Courage that wou’d stock a Coward; and a pretty Implement, call’d a Heart, that will strike fire with any convenient force: I have eight thousand Pounds to let out on any able Security, but not a Groat unless I like the Man.
Ter. Thus furnish’d, we shall ruin all the Jews, and undo the India Houses—But where shall we show? where meet with the Love-Merchants?
Oliv. What think you of the Gallery at the Play in Masks?
Ter. Shu, a State-Trick, first taken up by Women of Quality, and now run into Ridicule, by all the little common Devils of the Town; and is only a Trap for a Termer, a small new rais’d Officer, or a City Cully, where they baul out their eighteen Pence in Baudy, and filthy Nonsense, to the disturbance of the whole House, and the King’s Peace: the Men of Quality have forsaken it.
Oliv. What think you of the Mall?
Ter. As too publick to end an Intrigue; our Affairs require a Conquest as sudden as that of Cæsar, who came, saw and overcame.
Oliv. ’Tis true, besides there’s so many Cruisers, we shall never board a Prize. What think you of the Church?
Ter. An hypocritical Shift; of all Masks I hate that of Religion; and it shou’d be the last place I’d wish to meet a Lover in, unless to marry him.
Oliv. And, Faith, that’s the last thing a Lover shou’d do, but we are compell’d to haste, ’tis our last Refuge; if we cou’d but see and like our Men, the business were soon dispatcht.—Let me see—Faith, e’en put on Breeches too, and thus disguis’d seek our Fortune—I am within these three days to be fetch’d from Hackney School, where my Father believes me still to be, and thou in that time to be marry’d to the old Gentleman; Faith, resolve—and let’s in and dress thee—away, here’s my Lady—
They run out.