THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES

 
 THE 
 
 WORKS 
 
 O F 
 
 M O L I E K E, 
 
 IN SIX VOLUMES. 
 
 V O L. II. 
 
 A NEW TRANSLATION. 
 
 * 
 
 BERWICK: 
 
 PRINTED FOR R. TAYLOR, 
 
 MDCCLSSI,
 
 P9 
 
 i%23~ 
 
 ret 3 
 
 THE 
 
 ROMANTIC LADIES. 
 
 COMEDY. 
 
 
 VOL. II. A 
 
 1140787
 
 t 3 ] 
 
 The ROMANTIC LADIES, a Comedy cf One ^iV?, 
 aftedai P.iris y at the Theatre of the Little Bour- 
 bon, the i8tb of November , 1659. 
 
 THE comedy of the ROMANTIC LADIES de- 
 ferves to be ranked among the beft of Mc- 
 liere's performances, although it is not one cf the 
 beft with regard to the plot. He ventured, in this 
 piece, to forfake the common path of complicated 
 intrigues, to lead us in a comic road, firft known 
 by him. The main end of a good comedy appear- 
 ed to him to be, to criticife the follies and manners 
 which were peculiar to his time. 
 
 THE paflion for wit, or rather the abufe they 
 matte of it, was a kind of contagious malady then 
 in fafhion. The forced bombaffc ftyle in romances, 
 which the women admired for the very reafons 
 which have fince difcredited thcfe works, had got 
 into converfation : In a word, both the qualify and 
 common people were a/Te&ed; and at this con- 
 juncture did the comedy of the ROMANTIC LA. 
 DIES make its appearance; never was- greater fuc- 
 cefs known; the prodigious number of fpedhitors 
 made the company demand double prices at the 
 fecond reprefcntation of it, and the piece run for 
 four months together: It produced a general re- 
 formation, people faw themfelves in it, laughed, 
 and gave the trucft r.pplaufe to it by forfaking their 
 folly. Mr. Menage, who a fit (led at the firft re- 
 prefentruion, faid to Chapelaine, "You and I both 
 " approved of all thefe follies which have been now 
 " fo excellently and fo fenfibly criticized; believe 
 " me, we muft burn what we have admired, and 
 <e admire what we have burnt." This r.cknowledg- 
 A 2
 
 % i i 
 
 -incut was only the refk&ion of a man of fenfe 
 who found himfelf undeceived j but the frying of 
 1.11 oM rr.an, who in the middle of the pit cried 
 out through inftir.ft, " Take cournge, Moliere, 
 " this is a good comedy," is the pure expreffion of 
 r.ature, which fhews how much the human mind 
 is fwayed by truth. 
 
 A C T O K S. 
 
 LA GRANGE. 
 Du CROISY. 
 GORGIBUS, a rich Citizen. 
 
 MAGDALEN, Daughter of } . -, 
 
 C The Romantic 
 Gorgibijs. r _ ,. 
 
 CATHOS, Niece of-Gorgibus. J 
 MAROT, Maid to the Romantic Ladies. 
 ALMANZOR, Valet to the Romantic Ladles. 
 MARQJJIS DE MASCARILLE, La Grange's Valet. 
 VISCOUNT JODELET, Du Croify's Footman. 
 LUCILIA. ? M 1 1 
 CELIMENE. 5 Nei S hbo ^' s to 
 Two CHAIRMEN. 
 FIDLERS. 
 
 ,S:C E N E Earis, in Gorgibus's .houfe.
 
 ROMANTIC LADIES. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 LA GRANGE, DU CROIST. 
 D U C R O I S V . 
 
 .. Li Grange. 
 La Grange. What ? 
 
 Cioify. Look at me a little \v:th- : 
 laughing. 
 La Grange. Well, I do look at you. 
 
 Du Croify. What think you of our vifit? 
 
 are you pleafed with it? 
 
 La Grange. Why, do you think we have any 
 reafon to be fo? 
 
 Du Croify. Indeed,.! think we have not much. 
 La Grange. For my part, I. own to you, that I. 
 
 am quite {hocked at it. Fray now, did ever a- 
 
 ny body behold a couple of fooliih gypfjes give 
 themfelves fuch airs as thefe, or two men treated 
 fo infolently as we have been? They could hard- 
 ly condefcend to order chairs for us. I never 
 
 faw fuch whifpe.ing as there was between them ; 
 fuch yawning, fuch rubbing of eyes, and en- 
 quiring fo often what o'clock it was. Befules, we 
 could get them to fay nothing but yes or no to all 
 A 3
 
 6 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 
 
 \ve could fay to them. In fhort, it muft be con- 
 ferred, that if we had been the greateft fcoundrels 
 in the world, they could net ufe us worfe than they 
 have done. 
 
 Du Croify. I think you feem to take it much to 
 heart. 
 
 La Grange. I do, and am determined to re* 
 
 venge myfelf for this impertinence. 1 know well 
 
 enough the reafon of their flighting us. The con- 
 ceited air has not infected Paris only, but has 
 extended its influence to the country towns, and 
 cur ridiculous nymphs have fucked in their fhare 
 of it. In a word, they are a ftrange medley of co- 
 quetry and affectation. I plainly fee what fort of 
 perfons are likely to meet with a favourable recep- 
 tion from them, and if you will truft me, we will 
 play them a trick fhall make ther^ fee their folly, 
 .i&id teach them to diftinguifh people a little better. 
 
 Du Croify. How can this be done? 
 
 La Grange. I have an arch dog of a footman,, 
 named Mafcariiie, -oho pafies for a fort of a wit, in 
 the opinion of many people ; for nothing now-a-days 
 is cheaper than wit. This fellow has taken it into 
 his head, forfooth, to fet up for a perfon of quality. 
 He ufually %-alues hirnfelf for intrigues and poetry, 
 and defpifes other valets fo much as to call them 
 brutes. 
 
 Du Croify. Well; what mean you to do with 
 him ? 
 
 La Grange. I will tell you. He fhall But 
 
 let us retire; I will difclofe my fcheme to you as 
 we go along.
 
 THE RO MAN TIC LADIES. J 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 GORGIBUS, DUCROISY, LA GRANGE. 
 GORGIBUS. 
 
 WELL, gentlemen, you have feen my daugh- 
 ter and niece; how ftancl matters between 
 you and them ? What fuccefs have you had from 
 your vi fit? 
 
 La Grange. That is a thing you may better 
 learn from them than us. All we can fay to you, 
 is, that we return you thanks for the favour you 
 intended us, and remain your mofl humble fer- 
 vants. 
 
 Gorgibus alone.] Hey-day! methinks they fecm 
 difiatisfied! what can be the meaning of this? I 
 muft enquire. Soho there 1 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 GORGIGUS, MAROT. 
 M AR OT.. 
 
 ID you call, Sir? 
 
 Gorgibus. Yes, where are ycur-mifirefTcs?' 
 Marot. In their clofet, Sir. , 
 
 Gorgibus. "What are they doing? 
 Morat. They are making lip-falve. 
 
 Gorgibus. Bid them comedown. AIone.3 
 
 Thefe huflies, with their lip-falve, have, I think, a 
 mind to ruin me. The houfe is filled with no- 
 thing but whites of eggs, nun's cream, and a thoufand 
 other fooleries. . They have ufed, fince we came 
 hither, the lard of a dozen hogs atleaft; and four 
 A 4
 
 8 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 
 
 fervants might be daily fed with the legs of mutton 
 they deftroy. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 MAGDALEN, C A T H O S, GORGIBUS. 
 GORGIBUS. 
 
 r | ""HERE is great need, indeed, of all this 
 time and expence to greafe your muz- 
 zles. Inform me, pray, how you have behav- 
 ed to thefe gentlemen, that I faw them go away 
 with fo much coldnefs. Did not I charge you to 
 receive them as perfcns that I intended for your 
 hufbands ? 
 
 Magdalen. Dear father, what regard would you 
 have us pay to the irregular proceedings of thefe 
 people ? 
 
 Cathos. Dear uncle, can a woman cf any tafle 
 or fafhion be able to reconcile herfelf to men 'of 
 their figure? 
 
 Gorgibus. What fee you in them to find fault 
 with ? 
 
 Magdalen, Fine galantry of theirs, indeed! 
 
 Would you believe it, Sir? they began with pro- 
 pofing marriage to us. 
 
 Gorgibus. With what would you have them be- 
 gin ? with whoring? Is not this a way of acting 
 which both of you have reafon to approve of as well 
 as I ? Can any thing be a greater fign of their good 
 intentions? And that holy tie they defire, is it not 
 a proof of the fairnefs of their defigns? 
 
 Magdalen. O father! what you fay is extremely 
 like a citizen. I really blufh to hear you deliver 
 yourfelf in fuch uncouth terms. Indeed, papa,
 
 THE ROTM ANTIC L A D I E S'i () 
 
 you fhould learn to fpeak with a more courtly- 
 air. 
 
 Gorgibus. I've nothing to do with your airs. 
 I tell you, that matrimony is an holy and a facred 
 thing, and to begin with that is to at like boneffc 
 people. 
 
 Magdalen. Lard! were the whole world like 
 you, a romance would foon draw to a conclufion! 
 what a fine thing it would have been if Cyrus had 
 immediately married Mandana, and if Aronce had 
 been efpoufed in all hafts to Clelia ! 
 
 Gorgibus. What is this (he talks of? 
 
 Magdalen. Sir, my coufin will tell you as well 
 as me, that matrimony ought never to be brought 
 
 about till after other adventures. A lover who 
 
 would make hi:nfclf agreeable, mould begin his de- 
 claration with fine fentiments, ihort and paSionate 
 fpeeches; and make his addrefies in the neceflary- 
 forms. In the firft place, he fhould behold,' ei- 
 ther at church, or in the park, or at fbme public ce- 
 remony, the perfon of whom he becomes enamoured: 
 or, elfe, he mould be fatally introduced to her by a 
 relation or a friend, and go from her melancholy 
 and penfive. He fhould conceal his ilame, for 
 feme time, from the beloved object, bur, however, 
 make her frequent vifits, at which fome difcourfe 
 about galantry never fails to be brought upon the 
 
 carpet to exercife the wits of the company 
 
 When the time comes to make his declaration, 
 "which fhould always be contrived to happen i:i- 
 fome fha ly walk or arbour, while the company is 
 at fome difbmce in the garden ; it fhould be accom- 
 panied with a preffmg earneftnefs, and f 
 fhrts of paflion, which gives occafion for the fai; 
 one to exeicife her rigour, and baniih the too rre- 
 ^A 5
 
 IO THE ROMANTIC L A D i E . 
 
 fumptucus lover, for feme time, from her prefence, 
 He finds afterwards the way to pacify us, to accu- 
 ftom us infenfibly to hear his paflion, and to draw 
 from us that confeffion which caufes fo much trou- 
 ble. Then follow the adventures; the rivals that 
 thwart an eftablimed inclination, the perfecr.tions 
 of fathers, the jealoufies arifing from falfe appear- 
 ances, the complainings, the running off with, and 
 its confequences. This is the manner in which 
 things are to be conducted according to the modes 
 of tafte; an. I thefe are the rules which no lover 
 can difpenfc with obferving in a polite courtfhip 
 But to come point blank to the conjugal union! to 
 make no love but by making the marriage contract, 
 and take a romance juft by the tail ! in mort, dear 
 father, nothing can be more mechanic than fuch a 
 proceeding, and 1 am ready to faint at the very 
 thoughts of it. 
 
 Gorgibus. What the devil of nonfenfe is this I 
 hear? Where the pox did you learn this lofty 
 ftile? 
 
 Cathos. In fhort, uncle, my coufin tells you the 
 truth of the matter. How is it poffible to fhew 
 countenance to perfons who are the very antipodes 
 of all politenefs? I will lay a wager they have ne- 
 ver feen the map of tendernefs, and that fond e- 
 piftles, little difquietudes, polite letters, and fpright- 
 ly verfes are regions to them unknown. Do not 
 you obferve their whole perfon fhews it, and that 
 they have nothing of the air which gives one at firft 
 
 fight a good opinion of people? And then to 
 
 make a love-vifit without a fnuff-bcx! in a plain 
 hat! a head with the locks irregular! and a habit 
 
 indigent of embroidery ! heavens ! what lovers 
 
 are thefe! what a fb'ngiuefs in drefs! what a bar-
 
 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. II 
 
 rcrmefs of converfation ! it is over with therh pre- 
 fently, they keep it not up at all. I took notice 
 likewife of the clumfincfs of their neckcloths, and 
 the cut of their cloaths, which looked as if they 
 were of the laft age. 
 
 Gorgibus. Zounds! I believe the girls are both 
 mad! I do not know one word in ten they fpeak. 
 Heark'e, Magdalen, and you, Cathos. 
 
 Magdalen. Ah! pray, father, leave off thefe - 
 ftrange names, they found fo horribly unfafhion- 
 able! 
 
 Gorgibus. Strange names! are they not your 
 chriflian names? 
 
 Magdalen. Lard! how vulgar you are! for 
 
 my part, one thing I wonder at, is how you could 
 be the father of a girl of my tafte and fpirit. Did 
 you ever hear Cathos or Magdalen mentioned in 
 genteel Mile ? Why, one of thefe names is alone 
 fufficient to fpoil.the bed romance in the world. 
 
 Cathos. Really, uncle, an ear that is a little de- 
 licate fuffers extremely at hearing thefe words pro- 
 nounced; and the name of Poiixena, which my 
 coufin has chofen, and that of Amintha which I; 
 give myfelf, have fomething fo inexprefiibly grace- 
 ful, that 
 
 Gcrgibus. Heark'e, there needs but one word. . 
 I do not know that you have other names than what 
 were given you by your godfathers and godmo- 
 thers; and as to the gentlemen in queftion, I am-; 
 acquainted both with their families and their for- 
 tunes, and pofitively refolve that they (hall be your 
 hufbands. I am tired of keeping you upon my 
 hands, and the care of two fuch flirts as you are, is *. 
 enough to make any fober man mad. 
 
 Cathos. For my part, uncle, all I can fay is, that 
 A- 6 -
 
 12 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 
 
 I think matrimony a mighty fhocking thing. 
 can one endure the thought of lying by the fide of a 
 naked man? I am ready to faint at the thoughts 
 of it? 
 
 Magdalen. Give us leave to take breath a little 
 amongft the beau rnonde of Paris, where we are 
 but juft arrived. Permit us to form the contexture 
 of our romance at Icifure, and do not hurry on the 
 conclusion in fuch a manner. 
 
 Gorgibus afide.3 There is net the leaft doubt of 
 it; they are quite diftra&ed, [jAloud.3 Once more, 
 I tell you, I comprehend nothing of all this non- 
 fenfe, but I am refolved to be obeyed. And, to 
 cut fhort all further disputes, you muft either de- 
 termine to marry inaveryfhort time, or be (hut 
 up in a nunnery for life. So now. you know my 
 refolution. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 C A T H O S, MAGDALEN. 
 C A T H O S. 
 
 APtD! my dear, how is thy father immerf- 
 ed in matter! how grofs is his underftand- 
 ing! and how unenlightened his mental faculties. 
 
 Magdalen. What would you have, my dear ? I 
 am in confufion for him. I can hardly perfuade 
 rnyfelf that I am indeed his daughter, but believe 
 fome adventure one time or olher will happen to 
 difcover a more illuftrious defcent. 
 
 Caihjs. Nothing fo probable. And, for my 
 prut, I declare toyor, coi-fin, when I confuler ray- 
 felf, I
 
 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 13 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 CATHOS, MAGDALE N,. MAROT, 
 M A R O T . 
 
 PERE is a footman afks if you are at home,, 
 and fays, his matter would come to foe 
 you. 
 
 Magdalen. Learn, creature, to exprefs thyfelf 
 with more delicacy. You fhould fay, Ladies, an e- 
 milTary attends below, to know if it is convenient 
 for you to become vifible. 
 
 Marot. Lord blefs me! I do not underftand 
 your Latin, and hard words, not I, I never ftudi* 
 ed fjO'lbphy, as you have done in Sirrus the Great. 
 
 Magdalen. Impertinent creature! how can this 
 be endured! Canft thou tell who is the maiier of 
 this footman? 
 
 Marot. He told me it was the marquis de Maf- 
 carille. 
 
 Magdalen. Ah! my dear! a marquis, a mar- 
 quis! Well, go tell him we are vifible This rnuft 
 certainly be a wit, who has heard of our arrival. 
 
 Cathos. Undoubtedly, my dear. 
 
 Magdalen. He rrmft be received below in the 
 palour rather than in our chamber; let us adjuft 
 
 our hair a little, and maintain our character. 
 
 Com. in hither quickly, and hold to us the coun- 
 fellor of the graces. 
 
 Marot. O'my faith, I cannot tell what creature 
 taat is; you mud talk to me like a Chriftian if you 
 1 have me underftand you. 
 
 Cathos. Bring us the looking-glafs, you igno- 
 rant wretch! and take care not to contaminate its
 
 14 THE ROMANTIC L AD I E S. 
 
 purity with the reflection of your grofs image. 
 
 [Exeunt, . 
 
 S C E N E VII. 
 MA SCARIL L E ami two CHAIRMEN. 
 
 MASCARILLE- 
 
 OLD, chairmen, hold. La, la, la, la, la,. 
 
 la I think thofe varlets have a mind to 
 
 fhake me to a jelly, by jumbling me againft the 
 walls and pavement. 
 
 1. Chairman. Ay, marry: becaufe the gate is 
 r arrow, an.l you would make us come quite in . 
 with you. 
 
 Mafcarille. I think fo truly Would you have 
 
 me expofe the delicacy of my features to the incle- 
 mency of the rainy feafon, you rafcah, and let the 
 dirt receive the imprcfiion of rny fhoes? begone : 
 take away your chair. 
 
 2. Chairman. Then, pleafe to pay us, Sir. 
 Mafcarillc. Hem ! 
 
 2. Chairman. Pleafe to give us our money, Sir. 
 
 Mafcarille, giving him a blow,] Infolent .rafcal ! 
 to afk a man of quality for money. 
 
 2. Chairman. Are poor people to be paid thus ? 
 and will your quality get a dinner for us ? 
 
 Mafcarille. Ha, ha, ha, I.fliall teach yon better 
 manners than to ftand parlying with a gentleman. 
 
 i .Chairman, taking one of the poles of his cL.ir ] 
 Come, pay us qitickly. 
 
 Mafcarille. What! 
 
 i . Chairman. I fay, I will have the money this 
 moment. 
 
 Mafcarille. Oh ! this man talks i eafon.
 
 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. I 
 
 I. Chairman. M?.ke hafte then. 
 
 Mafcariile. Ay, you fpeak properly, for your 
 part: but the other is a rogue that knows not -what 
 he fays. There: are you contented? 
 
 i. Chairman. No, I am not contented, you flruck 
 my companion; and (^Holding up his pole. 
 
 Mafcariile. Hold, there, that is for the blow. 
 People may get any thing of me, when they alk 
 for it in a proper mariner. Well, vanifli now, and 
 call for me again to carry me to court. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 MAROT, MASCARILLE. 
 M AR O T. 
 
 SIR, my miftrefles will come prefently. 
 Mafcariile. Pray do not let the ladies hurry 
 themfelves, I am perfectly well fituated to attend 
 their leifure. 
 
 Marot. They are here. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 MAGDALEN, CATHOS, MASCARILLE, AL- 
 M AN Z O R. 
 
 MASCAHIL LE, after having faluted them. 
 
 LADIES, you will undoubtedly be furprifed 
 - at the boldncfs of my vifit: but your repu- 
 tation brings this unlucky affair upon you, and me- 
 rit has for me fuch potent charms, that I run e- 
 vcry where after it. 
 
 Magdalen. If you are in qucft of merit, Sir, I 
 am afraid you have miftaken the fpat.
 
 1.6 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 
 
 Cathos. To find merit at our houfe, you rnufl 
 have brought it hither yourfeJf.. 
 
 Mafcarille. Ah ! I engage to prove the contra- 
 ry. - Fame has done jufcice to your deferts, and. 
 you abfolutely pique ', repiqife y and capot all that is 
 polite in Paris. 
 
 Magdalen. Your complaifance, Sir, makes you 
 too liberal in your praifesj my coufin and I mall 
 endeavour not to give too much credit to your po- 
 lite adulation. 
 
 Cathos. My dear, we fhculd c.;li for chairs. 
 
 Magdalen. Here, Almanzor. 
 
 Almanzor. Madam. 
 
 Magdalen- Quick, quick, convey us hither the 
 convcnicncies of convcrfation. 
 
 Mafcarille, But. hold, am I fafe here? 
 
 Exit Almanzor. 
 
 Cathos. What do you mean ? 
 . Mafcarille. 1 fear feme defign againft my heart,, 
 fome attempt upon my freedom. Thcfeeyesfeemto 
 me as if they took delight in triumphing over the 
 fufFerings of an helplefs heart What the duce! 
 do they put them/elves upon their murdering guard 
 as foon as one comes near them ? Ah ' by my faith, 
 Lam fufpicicus of them, snd muft either fcamper; 
 away, or expert city-fecurity that they fiiall not do 
 me mifchief. 
 
 Magdalen. My dear, ho-w infinitely fprightly he 
 i > \ 
 'Cathos. The very quintessence of wit and po- 
 
 Magdalen. Ftar nothing, our eves have no ill 
 degaS', anil your heart may be. well afiured of their 
 good behaviour. 
 
 Cathos. But, good Sir, be not inexorable to that
 
 
 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. lf 
 
 elbow-chair, which has fo long extended its arms 
 to embrace you. 
 
 Mafcarille, adjufting himfelf at a glafs.] Well, 
 ladies, how do you like Paris ? 
 
 Magdalen. Alas! what can. we fay of it? we 
 mud be the very antipodes to all tafle and know- 
 ledge, not to confefs that Paris is the grand cabinet 
 of wonders, the center of good tafle, wit, and ga- 
 lantry. 
 
 Mafcarille. I think, for my part, that out of Pa- 
 ris there is no living for people of fafnian. 
 
 Cathos. That is an intlifputable truth. 
 
 Mafcariile. 'Tis a littledirty; but then one has- 
 fo many convenient chairs. 
 
 Magdalen. True ; and a chair, I think, is a moflr 
 fovereign protection againft the infults s of dirt and 
 bad weather. 
 
 Mafcarille. I-prefume you have abundance of 
 vifitors, ladies : What wits have you of your 
 party? 
 
 Magdalen. Why really, my lord, we are fcarce- 
 ly known as yet, but I hope we fhall be foon. A 
 lady of our acquaintance has promifed to bring fe- 
 veral gentlemen, who write in the reviews, to \i- 
 fit us. 
 
 Cathos. And they, you know, are the fovereigrv 
 arbitrators of all good things. 
 
 Mafcarille. I will do your bufinefs better tharv 
 any body; they all vifit me, and I can fay that I 
 never rile without half a dozen wits about me. 
 
 Magdalen. Good heavens! we (hall be obliged 
 to you to the laft degree -if you _ will do us that 
 kindncfs; for, in fliort, one muft have the acquain- 
 tance of all thefe gentlemen, if one would be of 
 the beau monde. It is thefe that influence repu?
 
 tT THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 
 
 tation at Paris ; and in fuch a manner, you know K 
 that only to keep them company is enough to oc- 
 cafionthe report of one's beinga critic, though there 
 fhould be no other reafon for it. But what I con- 
 fider principally in fuch a connexion is, that by 
 means of thefe ingenious vifits, one is taught an 
 hundred things which there is a neceffity of know- 
 ing, and which are the quinteflence of fine wit. 
 One learns by it every day the little new galan- 
 tries, the pretty correfpondencies in profe or verfe. 
 One knows for certain, that fuch a perfon has com- 
 pofed the fineft piece in the world upon fuch a 
 fubjet; fuch a lady has made words to fuch a tune; 
 this perfon has formed a madrigal upon enjoyment; 
 that has compofed ftanzas on infidelity; Mr.Such-a- 
 one wrote an ode of fix lines yefterday evening to Mrs. 
 Such-a-one, to which fhe fenthim an anfwer this 
 morning at eighto'clock ; fuch an author engaged in 
 fuch afubjet; this writer is about the third part of 
 his romance; that other is putting his works into 
 
 the prefs. In a word, this is what constitutes 
 
 one a perfon fit to appear in the world. 
 
 Cathos. In ihort, I think it is cxce!Ti?ciy ridi- 
 culous, for a perfon to pretend to wit and not know 
 even the leaf! ftanza that is made every day; and, 
 for ray part, I mould be afhamed to fliew my face, 
 if any one fhould afk my opinion of a ne\v piece, 
 and I have not feen it. 
 
 Mafcarille. It is a ihame, indeed, not to have 
 the firft of whatever is compofed ; but do not be 
 uneafy, I will eftablifh an academy of wits at your 
 houfe, and give you my word, not a rhime mail be 
 made at Paris, which you (hall not have by heart 
 
 before any body clfe. -As for myfelf, fuch as 
 
 you fee me, I arnufernyfelf in that way fonvetimesi.
 
 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. I 
 
 and you may fee things of mine in all the witty fe- 
 male aflemblies at Paris. Let me fee; aye, I 
 have compofecl above two hundred fongs, as many 
 fonnets, four hundred epigrams, and more than a 
 thoufand madrigals, without reckoning riddles and 
 lampoons. 
 
 Magdalen. I muft acknowlege that I am furiouf- 
 ly for lampoons; I think nothing is fo gallant. 
 
 Mafcarille. They are fo, but they are very dif- 
 ficult to hit off, and call for a prodigious fund of 
 wit; you (hall fee fome of mine, that perhaps may 
 not difpleafe you. 
 
 Cathos. For my part, I am terribly fond of rid- 
 dles. 
 
 Mafcarille. They exercife the wit, and I have 
 made four of them already this morning, which I 
 will give you to guefs the meaning of. 
 
 Magdalen. Madrigals are agreeable, when they 
 are well turned. 
 
 Mafcarille. That is my particular talent. Have 
 you heard, ladies, that I am turning the whole Ro- 
 man hiftory into madrigals? 
 
 Magdalen. .Ah! certainly, that muft be incom- 
 parably fine; I befpeak one book at leaft, if you 
 print it. 
 
 Mafcarille. I promife each of you one, bound in 
 the beft manner. It was below my quality; but 
 I do it only for the benefit of the bookfellers, who 
 are perpetually teazing me. 
 
 Magdalen. I fancy it is a great pleafure to fee 
 one's felf in print. 
 
 Mafcarille. Without doubt; but a-propos,I mufl 
 tell you an extempore that I made yefterday at a 
 duchefs's, a friend of mine, whom I was 
 for I am immoderately fond of an extempore.
 
 20 T K E R 0-M ANTIC' L A E> I E f.. 
 
 Cathos. An exte:npore is certainly the touch- 
 ftoue of wit. 
 
 Mafcarille. Will you honour me \\ith your at- 
 tention ? 
 
 Magdalen. We do> with all our ears. 
 
 Mafcarille. 
 
 Oh! oh! quite off in y guard was I;, 
 Whilft no harm thinking, 
 You 
 I view; 
 
 Slily ycur eyes 
 My heart furprize; 
 Stop thief, flop thief, flop thief, I cry. 
 
 Cathos. Ah! my fkrs! how exccffively gal- 
 lant! 
 
 Mafcarille. All I do is eafy and genteel, I have 
 nothing of the pedant in me. 
 
 Magdalen. Two thaufend leagues removed from 
 any thing of that! 
 
 Mafcarille. Did you mind thisbegihning, tl oh ! 
 oh!" this is extraordinary, " oh! oh!" like a man- 
 that bethinks himfelf all at oace, "oh! oh!" The 
 furprize, " oh! ch!" 
 
 Magdalen. Ay,I think that, * ch! oh!" is ini- 
 mitable. 
 
 Mafcarille. And yet at firft itfeems nothing. 
 
 Cathos. Oh! my ftars! v/hat is that you fay? 
 Nothing! why it is ineftimable; inexpreffibly fine. 
 
 Magdalen. No doubt of it, and I fhould like 
 better to have made that " ch ! oh!" than an 
 epic poem. 
 
 Mafcarille. Egad, you have a good tafte.
 
 THE Pv M A N T I C LADIES. 21 
 
 Magdalen. Eh ! I have not an exceeding bad 
 one. 
 
 Mafcarille. But do not you admire alfo, "quite 
 off my guard was I j quite off my guard was I," 
 I minded nothing o the matter: a natural way of 
 
 Ipeaking, " quiteoffmy guard \vasl." tf Whilft 
 
 iqb harm thinking j" whilft innocently, without ma- 
 lice, like a poor fheep, " you I view 5" that, is to 
 fay, I amufe myfelf with confidering, with obferv- 
 ing, with contemplating you. " Slily your eyes" 
 What think you of the word " flily"? Is not 
 it well chofen? 
 
 Cathos. Extremely fo. 
 
 Mafcarille. " Slily," cunningly, it feems as it 
 were a cat coming to catch a moufe, " flily." 
 Magdalen. Nothing can be better. 
 Mafcarille. " My heart furprize," fnatch it away, 
 force it from me; u Stop thief, flop thief, flop 
 thief, flop thief." Would not you imagine a man 
 were crying out and running after a thief to feize 
 him? " flop thief, flopthief, flop thief, flop thief." 
 Magdalen. It mufl be acknowledged that there 
 is an amazing deal of wit and fprightlinefs in this 
 Uvi. 
 
 Mafcarille. I will fir.g you the tune I have made 
 .to it. 
 
 Cathos. You have learned mufic? 
 Mafcarille. I? not at all. 
 Cathcs. Is it poifible? 
 
 Mafcariile. People of qualify know every t^ing, 
 witho.it ever learning any thing. 
 
 Magtlale::. His lordfliip is quite in the right, 
 my d_ar. 
 
 Mafcaii-lle. Hear if die tune be to your tafle : 
 hem, hem, la, In, In, la, la. The brut:lity of
 
 22 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 
 
 the feafon has furioufly injured the delicacy of my 
 
 voice: but no matter, it is quite ungenteel to 
 
 fing well. [He fmgs.] "Oh! oh! quite off my 
 guard was I." 
 
 Cathos. How tender and fine tt the mufic! e- 
 very one who have heard it, mult certainly have 
 expired. 
 
 Magdalen. It is fomethrHg^n the cromatic tafte. 
 
 Mafcarille. Do not you find the thought well 
 exprefled in the tune, " flop thief, flop thief?" 
 And then as if a body cried out violently, " flop, 
 flop, flop, flop, flop, flop thief." Then all at once 
 like a perfon out of breath, " flop thief." 
 
 Magdalen. This it is to know the efience of 
 things, the grand nicety, the nicety of niceties. I 
 declare it is altogether an incomparable performance ; 
 I am quite enchanted with both air and words. 
 
 Cathos. I never yet met with any thing fo flrong 
 as this. 
 
 Mafcarille. All I do comes naturally to me, it 
 is without fludy. 
 
 Magdalen. You are the darling of nature, I 
 muft fay that for you. 
 
 Mafcarille. Well, ladies, how is your time en- 
 gaged ? 
 
 Cathcs. We have nothing to do. 
 
 Magdalen. We have been here under a hideous 
 abflinence from diverfions. 
 
 Mafcarille. Will you permit me to wait on you 
 to the p!ay ? a new comedy is to make its appear- 
 ance to-night, and I fhould be extremely happy to 
 attend you to the firfl reprefentation. 
 
 Magdalen. There is no refufing you any thing. 
 
 Mafcariile. But I befeech you to applaud it well, 
 wh~n we fhali be a: it ; for I am engaged to cry
 
 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 23 
 
 up the performance; the author vilited me this 
 morning to beg me fo to do. It is the cuflom here 
 vfor authors to come and read their new perform- 
 ances to us perfons of quality, in order to engage 
 us to approve of them, and give them a reputation ; 
 ^and I leave you to imagine, whether, when we fay 
 any thing, the pit dares contradict us. For my 
 part, I am, to the laft degree, punctual in thofe 
 things, and when I have made a promife to the 
 poet, I am always fure to clap, and cry, bravo! be- 
 fore the candles are lighted. 
 
 Magdalen. Say no more of it, Paris is a won- 
 derful place; an hundred things happen in it every 
 day, which one knows not in the country, howe- 
 ver witty one may be. 
 
 Cathos. It is enough; now we are told, we will 
 do our part in crying out as we ought at every word 
 that is faid. 
 
 Mafcarille. I cannot tell whether or not I am 
 deceived; but methinks, by your looks, ladies, you 
 fhould have written at leaft one play a-piece. 
 
 Magdalen. Eh ! there may be fomething in what 
 you fay. 
 
 Mafcarille. Ah! faith, we muft fee it. Between 
 ourfelves, I have compofed one which I will have 
 acled. 
 
 Cathos. Ay! which company of a&ors will you 
 give it to? 
 
 Mafcarille. A fine queftion truly! to the ac- 
 tors of the theatre- royal; none but they are ca- 
 pable of gaining things a reputation; the reft know 
 nothing, but fpeak their parts juft as one talks: 
 they do not underftand to make the verfes roar, or 
 paufe st a beautiful paflage; how can it be known
 
 C4 THE ROMANTIC LAD'IES. 
 
 where the fine lines are, if the aclor does not flop 
 at them, and apprize you thereby to clap? 
 
 Cathos. Really, there is a way of making an au- 
 dience fenfible of th beauties of a performance, 
 and things are well efteemqd but according as they 
 are well fet off. 
 
 Mafcarille. How do you like this embroidery? 
 -is it well adapted to the cloaths ? 
 
 Cathos. Perfeaiy. 
 
 Mafcarille. The ribbon is well chofen. 
 
 Magdalen. Furioufly well. It is an excellent 
 plum colour. 
 
 Mafcarille. What fay you of my rollers? 
 
 Magdalen. They have an excellent air. 
 
 Mafcarille. I may boaft, however, that they are 
 a quarter of a yard wider than any that have been 
 made. 
 
 Magdalen. I m-uft confefs I never jaw the ele- 
 gance of -drefs -carried to fuch a height. 
 
 Mafcarille. Thefe gloves tool tolerably well 
 fcented,ha? pleafe to honour them with the reflex- 
 ion of your fmelling faculties. 
 
 Magdalen. They fmell terribly fine. 
 
 Cathos. I never breathed an odour more agree- 
 able. 
 
 Mafcarille. And this here. [He gives them 
 his powdered \vig to fmell too.] 
 
 Magdalen. It has the true quality odourj the 
 fublime is moft admirably blended with the foft. 
 
 Mafcarille. You fay nothing of my feathers : 
 how do you like them? 
 
 Cathos. They are extravagantly handfome. 
 Mafcarille. It coft me near ten guineas. It is 
 my pnflion, you muft know, to have all things a- 
 la-mode, coft what they will.
 
 THE ROMANTIC LADIES, 25 
 
 Magdalen. You and I fympathize, I aflure you; 
 I am immoderately like with regard to every thing 
 I wear; and even to my very focks, I cannot endure 
 any thing which is not made by the bed hands. 
 
 Mafcarille crying out fuddenly.] O! o! o! gen- 
 tly, gently; - damme, ladies, this is very ill u- 
 fagej I have reafon to complain of your behavi- 
 our : this is not fair. 
 
 Cathos. For heaven's fake, what is the matter 
 with you ? 
 
 Mafcarille. What! two at'once upon my heart! 
 to attack me thus right and left i Oh ! it is againft 
 all law of nations! the combat is too unequal, and 
 I muft be obliged to call out for aid. 
 
 Cathos. It muft be owned he fays things in a 
 particular manner. 
 
 Magdalen. He is a confummate' wit. 
 
 Cathos. You are more afraid than hurt, and your 
 heart complains before it is wounded. 
 
 Mafcarille. The devil it does! I am certain I 
 feel it pierced through and through ! good God ! 
 how it bleeds! 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 CATHOS, MA GDALEN, MASCAR1LLE, 
 M A R O T. 
 
 M ARO T. 
 
 ADAM, thjrc is one deures tD fpeakwid: 
 
 Magdalen. Who is it? 
 Marot. The vifcount Jodtlet. 
 Mafcaiille. The vifcount Jcdelet? 
 Maror. Yes, Sir. 
 VOL. II. B
 
 26 THE ROMANTIC L A D I E"S . 
 
 Cnthos. Are you acquainted with him? 
 
 Ma/cariUe. He is my btft friend. 
 
 [Magdalen.. Conduct him in immediately. 
 
 TvIafcaiiiJe. It is fome time fince we have fcen 
 one another, and I am overjoyed at this Jucky 
 meeting. 
 
 Cathos. Here he is. 
 
 S C E N E XL 
 
 CATHOS, MAGDALEN, JODELET, MAS- 
 CARILLE, MA ROT, A L M A N Z O R. 
 
 M A S C A R I X L E . 
 
 AH, vifcount! 
 Jodelet. [Embracing one another.]] All, 
 marquis ! 
 
 Mafcarille. How happy am I to fee you fo un- 
 expe&eulyi 
 
 Jodelet. How delighted am I to fee you here! 
 
 Mafcarille. Prithee, let me embrace thee once 
 more. 
 
 Magdalen to Caihos.] We bee ; n to be known, 
 my deareft, fee the beau monde find the way to 
 cur houfe. 
 
 JMafcaiille. Ladies, give me leave to prefent this 
 ' gentleman to you, as a perfon worthy the honour 
 of your acquaintance. 
 
 Jodelet. Ladies, juflice forces me to cfTer that 
 i cenfe which is fo defervedly due to your meritf, 
 ?nd thofe unparalleled cLarms call for adoration 
 / ;r. every fenfible being. 
 
 JMagdalen. This is to drivi your civilities even 
 to the borders of flattery.
 
 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 27 
 
 Cathcs. This day ought to be marked with a 
 red letter in cur almanack. 
 
 Magdalento Aimanzoi.]] Come, toy, mud things 
 be always told you over and over? do net you per- 
 ceive that a chair is deficient ? 
 
 Mafcarille. Do not wonder to behold the vif- 
 count a little pale, he is but juft recoved from a fit 
 of illnefs. 
 
 Jodelet. It is the fruit of court attendance, and 
 the fatigue of war. 
 
 Mafcarille. Let me tell you, ladies, that in the 
 vifcount you behold one of the braveft men of the 
 
 age; he is a perfect hero. 
 
 Jcdelet. Nay, marquis, you are not fecond to 
 any man in that refpccl: ; every one knows you have 
 scne fomething. 
 
 Mafcarille. It is true, we have feen one another 
 upon occafion. 
 
 Jodelet. And in places where it was very warm. 
 Mafcarille looking at Cathos and Magdalen .J 
 Ay, but not fo warm as it is here. 'Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Jodelet. Our acquaintance began in the army, 
 and the firft time we f?.w each other, he command- 
 ed a regiment of horfe aboard the gallies of Malta. 
 
 Mafcarille. True, but ycu was in fervice before 
 me, and I remember I was only a cadet when you 
 headed a company. 
 
 Jodelet. War is a fine thing; but, faith, the 
 court now-a-days rewards people that are of fervice 
 like us very ill. 
 
 Mafcarille. And therefore my fword fhall reft 
 in its fcabbard. 
 
 Cathos. For my part, I have a furious tender- 
 nefs for men of the fword. 
 B 2
 
 ; 8 THE R G T.I A K T I C LADIES, 
 
 Ivl>[;;da;cn. I love them too: but I would have 
 wit to temper bravery. 
 
 Mafcariiie; Do you remember, vifcount, our 
 'e half-moon at the ege of Arras? 
 
 Jucelet. Vv'hat do ye mean by an half-moon? 
 it was a whole moon> indeed. 
 
 Mafcariiie. I believe you are right. 
 
 Jod,elet. I ought, faith, to remember it very 
 well; I was wounded in the right leg by a hand- 
 grenade,, of which I iUil carry the mark. Pray 
 feel, ladies, what a cavity is here. 
 
 Cathos putting her hand to the place/] The 
 fear is large indeed. 
 
 Mafcariiie. Your band, if you pleafe, madam. 
 What do you think of this fear in the back part of 
 my head? Do you feel it? 
 
 Magdalen. Ay, I feel fomething very hard. 
 
 Mafcariiie. It is a mufket-fnct which I receiv- 
 ei the lail campaign I made. 
 
 Here is a xvound 
 satfcicls of G rave- 
 lin, 
 
 Mafcariiie putting 'his hand open the button of 
 his breeches.] I am going to (hew you a terrible 
 wound. 
 
 Magdalen. There is no occafion for it, we be- 
 lieve you without feeling it. 
 
 Mafcariiie. They are honourable marks, that 
 fliew what a man is rr.adc cf. 
 
 C thos. We do net in the Lau: doult the va- 
 lour of either. 
 
 afcarille. Vifcoun', ha\e you your coach in 
 waiting ? 
 
 Jodelet. Why?
 
 :. V,"c <.\.:i:i'-t go atoa lii-ay. 
 
 Maica.i.nc. L-. I us 'lave nv.ific then and dance. 
 
 Joddet. Faith, that i,; \vJl ihrv.ght of. 
 
 Magdalen. Vv'ith ali cur luarts. But we fhall 
 want . 
 
 he i-i there r Champagne, Pi- 
 
 Cuti', Beiifji p'*r n, C,!-(;i..;iratj Bafque, la Verdure, 
 
 Lor;.. . . . cal, \'i<j!'.-;.te. What is become 
 
 of all my k!:ov, s? I do not think there is a gen- 
 tleman in France worf.: fcvvcd than I. Thefe raf- 
 cals are r!.\v;;ys out of thL' way. 
 
 Magdalen. Almanzor, tell the Tenants of my 
 lord mriquis to go look for mufic, and run with 
 our C' mpl'ments to fome of the neighbours, and 
 tell them to people the defert of our ball with their 
 prefence. [Exit Almanzor. 
 
 IVLffcarille. Vif-.ounf, what fay you of thefe 
 eyes ? 
 
 Jodelet. Why, marquis, what do you think 
 of them yourfelf ? 
 
 Mafcarille. I? I fay, that our liberty is furi- 
 oufly in danger; at leaf! mine has fufTered moft 
 violent attacks^, and my heart hangs by a fingle 
 thread. 
 
 Magdalen. How natural is all he fays! he has 
 uch a pleafing manner of turning things! 
 
 Cathos. Really, he is moft fuperabundantly la- 
 vifh with his wit. 
 
 Mafcarille. To (he-, you I am in earned, I will 
 make an extempore upon it. [He mufes. 
 
 Cathos. O! I conjure you by all my foul holds 
 facred, let us have fomething made upon us. 
 
 Jodelet, I fhculd be glad to do as much for you 5 
 B 3
 
 30 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 
 
 but the prodigious lofs of blood I have fuftained, 
 has greatly exhaufted my poetic vein. 
 
 Mafcarille. Deuce take it ! I al.vvays make the 
 firft verfe well, but I am perplexed about the reft. 
 Faith, this is a little too hafty, I will make you an 
 extempore at my leifure, which you will find to be 
 the fineft in the world. 
 
 Jodelet. How devilifh witty he is! 
 
 Magdalen. His wit is gallant and finely turn- 
 ed. 
 
 Mafcarille. Vifcount, when did you fee the 
 ccuntefs ? 
 
 Jcdelet. It is above three weeks fince I vifited 
 her. 
 
 Mafcarille. Do you know that the duke came 
 to fee me this morning, and would have taken me 
 into the country a (lag-hunting with him? 
 
 Magdalen. Here come our friends. 
 
 SCENE XII. 
 
 LU CILIA, CELIMENA, C A T H O S, MAG- 
 DALEN, M A SC A R I L L E, J O D E L E T, MA- 
 ROT, ALMANZOR, and FIDLERS. 
 
 MAGDALEN. 
 
 LAFiD! my dears! we beg your pardon for 
 the freedom we have taken in fending for 
 you in fo abrupt a manner; but thcfc gentlemen 
 having propofed to give us a dance, we fent for 
 you to fill up the vacuum of our aflembly. 
 Lucilia. You have obliged us certainly. 
 Mafcarille. This is a kind of extempore ball ; 
 but one of thefe days we will give you one in form. 
 Is the mufic come?
 
 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 3! 
 
 Almanzor. Yes, Sir, they arc here. 
 
 Cathos. Come then, my dears, take your places. 
 
 Mafcarille dancing alone by way of prelude.] 
 Tel lol derol derol lol. 
 
 Magdalen. How excellent a fliape! 
 
 Cathos. Certainly he muit dance nobly. 
 
 Mufcarillc, having taken out Magdalen to da nee.] 
 Faith, ladies, I believe iny freedom will prefently 
 keep time with my feet. Play in time, fidlers, in 
 time. O what ignorant wretches! there is no 
 dancing with them. The devil take ye, cannot 
 ye pi.iy in meafurc? Tol lol derol derol lol. Si- 
 lence, ye country fcrapers! 
 
 Jodeiet, dancing afterwards.] Hold, do not play 
 fo faft, I am but jufl recovered of a fit of fick,- 
 nefs. 
 
 SCENE XIII. 
 
 DU CROISY, LA GRANGE, CATHOS, MAG- 
 DALEN, L U C I L I A, CELIMENA, JODE- 
 i E T, MASCAR1LLE, M A R O T, and F I D - 
 LCKS. 
 
 LA GRANGE, with a flick in his hand. 
 
 SO, fcoundrels! what do you here? we have 
 been feeking you thefe three hours. 
 Mafcarill-e, feeling himfelf beaten] O! o! o! 
 you did not tell me the blows mould be thus. 
 Jodeiet. O ! o ! o ! 
 
 La Grange. "What! you fet up for perfons of 
 quality, do you? 
 
 DAI Croify. This will teach you to know your- 
 felves. 
 
 B 4
 
 32 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 
 
 SCENE XIV. 
 
 CATHOS, MAGDALEN, LUCILIA, CELI- 
 MEN A, MASCARILLE, JODELET, MA- 
 ROT and FI D L E R s. 
 
 MAGDALEN. 
 
 PRAY, gentlemen, \vhat is the meaning of 
 this? 
 
 Jodelet. It is a joke, a wager. 
 
 Cathos. What, let yourfelves be beaten in this 
 manner! 
 
 Mafcarille. Lard, I would not be feen to take 
 any .notice of it j becaufe I am violent, and fhould 
 Jiave been guilty of fome extravagance. 
 
 Magdalen. To fufFer an affront like this in our 
 prefence ! 
 
 Mafcarille. It is nothing, I tell you. Come, 
 let us proceed. We have known one another a 
 long time. They are two comical dogs. Why, 
 if friends were to quarrel for a frolic, there would 
 be no living. 
 
 SCENE XV. 
 
 DU CROISY, LA GRANGE, MAGDALEN, 
 CATHOS, LU CILI A, CELI M EN A, M A S- 
 CARILLE, JODELET, MAROT, and I- I D- 
 LERS. 
 
 w 
 
 LA GRANGE. 
 
 E will let you know, rafcals, what it is to 
 make a jeft of us. 
 
 [Three or four bullies enter*
 
 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 33 
 
 Magdalen. What means this impudence, tocome 
 and diflurb us thus in our own houfe? 
 
 Du Croify. What, madam, do you think we 
 can tamely look on, and fee our footmen better 
 received by our miftreflesthan ourfelves? and have 
 the impudence to give them a ball at our expence? 
 
 Magdalen. Your footmen? 
 
 La Grange. Ay, our footmen ; it is neither de- 
 cent nor honeft to encourage other people's fervants 
 to fuch infolence and extravagance. 
 
 Magdalen. O heavens! what impudence! 
 
 La Grange. But they mall not have the advan- 
 tage of our clothes to dazzle your eyes j if you will 
 Jove them, it fhall be, faith, for their handfome 
 looks. Qiiick, (trip immediately. 
 
 Jodelet. Farewel finery. 
 
 Mafcarille. Themarquifateand vifcountfliip are 
 at an end. 
 
 Du Croify. You impudent rafcals! how dared 
 you to fet up for the rivals of your maflers ? 
 
 La Grange. It is too much to fupplant us in- 
 cur own cloaths. 
 
 Mafcarille. O fortune! how fickle thou art! 
 
 Du Croify. Quick, take every thing away from 
 them. 
 
 La Grange. Carry away thefe clothes, begone 
 with them. Now, ladies, you are extremely wel- 
 come to your new gallants in their prefent condi- 
 tion. As for this gentleman and myfelf, we pro- 
 mife you we fhall not be jealous; and fo leave you 
 to finiili your dance. 
 
 B c
 
 34 THE ROMANTIC LADIES, 
 
 SCENE XVI. 
 
 MAGDALEN, CATHOS, JODELET, 
 MASCARILLE, and F 1 D L E R S. 
 
 CATHOS. 
 
 AH! what confufion! 
 Magdalen. I burft with vexation. 
 i . Fidler to Mafcarille ] "Whati t he meaning 
 of this ? who is to pay us ? 
 Mafcarille. Afk the vifcount. 
 I . Fidler to Jodelet.3 Who is to give us the 
 money ? 
 
 Jodelet. Aflc the marquis. 
 
 SCENE XVII. 
 
 GORGIBUS, MAGDALEN, CATHOS, 
 
 JODELET, MASCARILLE, and 
 
 F I D L E R S. 
 
 GORGIBUS. 
 
 WELL, flirts! you have made fine laugh- 
 ing-flocks of yourfelves. The gentle- 
 men have told me a curious trick of you. 
 
 Magdalen. Ah, father ! we have been cruelly 
 ufed. 
 
 Gorgibus. A trick with a vengeance! you may 
 thank your own mfolence for it, you jsdes! I think 
 your lovers have punifhed you very properly for 
 your treatment this morning And here I muft be 
 laughed at for your folly and impertinence 
 
 Magdalen. Ah! I fwear we will be revenged, 
 or I fhall die with the vexation of it. And you,
 
 THE ROMANTIC LADIES. 35 
 
 rafcals, dare you continue here after your info- 
 lence? 
 
 Mafcarille. Do you ufe a marquis thus? This 
 is the way of the world, the leaft difgrace makes us 
 be flighted by thofe that. before carcfled us. Come, 
 let us go and feek our fortune elfewhere: I fee no- 
 thing but outfide- takes with this world; and now- 
 a-days naked virtue goes unrewarded. 
 
 SCENE THE LAST. 
 
 GORGIBUS, MAGDALEN, CAT II OS, 
 
 and i- i D L E R s. 
 
 I. F IDLER. 
 
 SIR, we expect that you fhcruld pay us, fince 
 they do not, for it was here we played. 
 Gorgibus beatingthcrn.'J Ay,ay, vilkrns, I will 
 pay you! but it lhall be in this coin. And as for 
 you, ye gipfies, I know not what prevents me 
 from ufing you in the fame manner. You have 
 made both ycurfelves and me the jeft of the town. 
 Begone out of my fight for ever! [They go out.]] 
 And as for romances, verfes, fongs, fonnets, and 
 fonatas, which have been the occaficn of all this, 
 may the devil fly away with them all. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 B 6
 
 DON GARCIA 
 
 O F 
 
 NAVARRE: 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 JEALOUS PRINCE, 
 
 AN HEROIC COMEDY.
 
 DON GARCIA of NAVARRE, or the JEALOUS 
 PRINCE, an Heroic Comedy of Jive 4ls t acled 
 at Paris, at the Theatre of the Palace-Royal, 
 February $tb t 1661. 
 
 HE choice of the fubjctt, in imitation of the 
 Spanith, in which the incidents are more fuita- 
 ble to comedy, than to any thing heroic ; the ori- 
 ginal of which is vicious, and might be a means of 
 thefmall fuccefs of this work. Moliere fucceededno 
 better as an aclor, when he played the part of Don 
 Garcia. He did not appeal from the judgment of 
 the publick, nor did he print his piece, though 
 there were fome paflages in it, which he afterwards 
 thought deferved to he inferted in other comedies, 
 particularly in the MAN HATER ; fee the third 
 fcene of the fourth al of the MAN-HATER, and 
 the eighth fcene of the fourth a {ft of DON GAR- 
 
 CFA.
 
 ACTORS. 
 
 DON GARCIA, Prince of Navarre, in love with 
 
 Elvira. 
 
 ELVIRA, Princefs of Leon. 
 DON ALPHONSO, Prince of Leon, thought to be 
 
 the prince of Caftile, under the name of Don 
 
 Silvio. 
 AGNESA, a countefs, in love with Silvio, beloved 
 
 by Moorgat, the ufurper of the ftateof Leon. 
 ELIZA, confident to Elvira. 
 DON ALVAREZ, confident of Garcia, in love with 
 
 Eliza. 
 DON LOPEZ, another confident of Don Garcia, 
 
 in love with Eliza. 
 
 DON PEDRO, gentleman -ufher to Agnefa. 
 A PAGE to Elvira. 
 
 SCENE lies in Aftorga, a city of Spain, in 
 the kingdom of Leon.
 
 <*- -< *> < * >-<*> < 
 
 DON GARCIA 
 
 O F 
 
 NAVARRE. 
 
 ACT I. SCENE I. 
 
 ELVIRA, ELIZA, 
 
 ELVIRA. 
 
 N fhort, I have no choice to deter- 
 mine the fentiments of my mind con- 
 cern i n g t ^ ie ^ e two lovers; I can find no- 
 thing in the prince to induce me to pre- 
 fer his love. Don Silvio poflefles all the good qua- 
 lities of a glorious hero as well as him. The e- 
 qual birth of both, added to their noble virtues, 
 often induces me to fpeak in both their favours: 
 and if merit alone were to plead a right to my 
 heart, the conqueror would be yet unnamed But 
 heaven intends it otherwife, and weighs down the 
 fcale in Don Garcia's favour. 
 
 Eliza. Indeed, madam, as you have been fo long 
 in determining between the two rivals, I am a- 
 fraid the love your ftars have infpired you with for 
 him, has but a fmall pofieflion of your foul. 
 
 Elvira. The love of thefe worthy rivals has gi-
 
 42 DON GAR. CIA 
 
 ven me very great uneafmefs. When I looked on 
 the one, I found no reafon to reftmin my tender 
 regard for him: but when the facrifice of the or 
 ther prefented itfelf to me, I chid the former 
 movement of my foul as an at ofinjuitice, and 
 thought Don Silvio dcferving of a happier fate. I 
 considered the obligations which the late king Le- 
 on's daughter was under tr> the blood cf Caftiie,. 
 and the ftrong friendfhip which had long united 
 the interefts of his father and mine; and as the one 
 gained my affeclion, the b;:d fuccefs of the other 
 gave me pain. When his ireiting fighs demand- 
 ed my pity, his defires were amufed witli a fa- 
 vourable appearance, with which fmnll advantage 
 he was willing to make amends for the fecret dif- 
 ficulties he met with in my heart. 
 
 Eliza. You mould make yourfelf eafy, fince you 
 have been made acquainted with his fiift paiRon. 
 Donna Agnefa received the homage of his heart 
 before he felt apafficn fcr you; and as fhe uiyour 
 intimate friend, and has intrufted ytu with the fe- 
 cret, you have a good opportunity of freeing your- 
 felf, and may refufehim under aprettiKdfrfend- 
 fhip for her. 
 
 Elvira. Really the account of Don Silvio's in- 
 fideHty may give me pleafure, as it g.'.ves.my weak 
 heart liberty to determine again ft hi>r, -and I may 
 with propriety rcfufehis cFers,and btftow the feel- 
 ings of my heart on another. But 11 the fcvcri- 
 ty of another fort of.conftraint ftiil gives me pain, 
 this fatisfa<SUon will not equal my uner.iincfs, when 
 the continual weaknefs of a jealous prince unwor- 
 thily receives my' tender regards, and will certain- 
 ly make me be. obliged to drop ail correfponience 
 with him,
 
 OF NAVARRE. .} 3 
 
 Eliza. Can you blame him not to believe his hap- 
 pinefs compleat, when he is not yet affined of it 
 from your own mouth? And is it not natural for 
 that which gives hopes to his rival to make him 
 fufpedt your tendernefs for him? 
 
 Elvira. No, there is no excufc for the extrava- 
 gance of his jealoufy} and he mud fee too plain- 
 ly by my aftions, that he has my fecret goodwifh- 
 es. A perfon's thoughts may be interpreted by 
 other ways than fpenking. A look, a blufh, afigh, 
 or even filence, is fullicient to difcover the fenti- 
 ments of one's heart. Every thing in love fpeaks, 
 and every ray is a fun} as the delicacy of our fex 
 will not allow us to difcover what we feel, I own 
 I have endeavoured to divide my favours with an 
 equal hand between them, and to look impartially 
 upon the merits of both-, but it is in vain to drive 
 againft our wifl>es, and it is very eafy to difcern 
 between favours which proceed from, the fmcere 
 inclination of the heart, and thofe beftowed out of 
 policy. The one always appears for-ced, but tire 
 other natural} like pure and limpid dreams which 
 flow from their native fources calmly. In vain 
 did my pity towards DonSilvio drive to moveme; 
 the inluificiency of it difcoverecl itfclf, whild the 
 prince mud obfcrve in my eye, more than I,chofe 
 he fliould; 
 
 Eliza. If there is no foundation for the fufpici- 
 ons of that illudricus lover, they are the figns of 
 a' well affected foul } and what makes you unea- 
 fy would give others pkafure. Jealoufy in a per- 
 fon who is difagreeable to us, may give pain} but 
 in an agreeable object who lovjs u>, it'hould give 
 joy. He only exprellcs his pafllon in that man- 
 ner, and the more his jealoufy appears, it fhould
 
 44 D O N C A R C I A 
 
 increafe our love. Therefore Trace. in. your foal a 
 
 brave prince 
 
 Elvira. Ah! do not advance fuch a Grange max- 
 im ; at all times and on ail oce.vivr.i.s, Jcaloufy 
 is odious j nothing car*, ibfvcn its hurtful attacks, 
 and we fcel the aifront more fenfihly the dearer 
 the objcit. To fee a paffionaie prince laying afide 
 that refpecl \vith which love infnir.es him, and in 
 his jealoufies chicling my plefures and difgufts, 
 con/truing every thing I do or foy in favour cf a 
 rival ! No, no, thcfe fufpicious tempers arc too of- 
 fenfive ; I will give you my opinion without de- 
 ceit. I' confefs I love Don Garcia, and his bra- 
 very in the midit of Leon has given me a proof of 
 his flame, by defying the gre.'teft dangers, deliver- 
 ing me from the defigns of v/ic heel tyrants, andfe- 
 curing me from the horrors of an unworthy match. 
 I own, I would net wifh to owe my deliverance 
 to any other perfon. Indeed, Eliza, it gives f:r^at 
 pleafure to an enamoured heart to be under obli- 
 gations to what it. loves; and its fearful flame gains 
 more ftrength, and mines out (Ironger, when it i- 
 magines it fatisfies its obligations by the means of 
 favours. Yes, lam plcafed that his -venturing his 
 life for me appears to give his love a right of con- 
 queft : it gives me pleafure th?.* rny danger put me 
 under his protection; and if reports are true, and 
 my brother return, my fincere wifhes are, that he 
 may affift my brother in therecovery ofhis throne, 
 and that he may by lucky fuccefTes cf a noble va- 
 lour deferve all manner of thanks from me. Yet 
 if his jealoufy does not ceafe, and he do not fub- 
 jecl: himfelf to my laws, but continue to incite my. 
 anger, he will hope for the poffefiion of Donna 
 Elvira in vain- I hate the appearance of certain*
 
 01- N A V A Fv 71 ~ . 4 5 
 
 imfery to both, and in that cafe Hymen can never 
 join us. 
 
 Eliza. Madam, he is a prince that I dare fay 
 v/ill conform himfelf to your defires, which you 
 have explained fo well in this letter, that when he 
 rti.ds il 
 
 Elvira. Now, when I have thought better upon 
 it, 1 will not have it delivered, Eliza; it will be bet- 
 ter to inform him of my thoughts by word of mouth; 
 to favour a lover with writing, leaves in his hands 
 too clear proofs of cur inclination. 
 
 Eliza. I ihould make a law of your inclination, 
 but I am furprized that heaven fhould throw fuch 
 div'erfity into people's minds. What fome look 
 upon as an hardship, others defire as a happinefs. 
 For my part, I fiiould be glad to have a jealous lo- 
 ver; his mifery would be joy to me, and what dif- 
 appnints me is to fee Doa Alvarez fo eafy. 
 
 Elvira. Here he comes; we did not think he 
 was fo near. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 ELVIRA, DON ALVAREZ, ELIZA. 
 
 ELVIRA. 
 
 Am amn^Ci! at your fudden return: are we to 
 expect Don Alphonfo ? what is trie news? is 
 
 D. Alvarez. Madam, the time is now come, 
 when th.t brother brought up in Caftile will en- 
 t:i into the pofieflion of his own again. Don 
 , to \vhofe care his infancy w?.s committed 
 Ly the late king, has concealed his quality from 
 the whole fb.tc, to fare him from the r-ge of that
 
 4 6 DON -GARCIA 
 
 miter Mccrgat ; and notwithstanding the tyrant 
 has often made enquiry for him, under the pre- 
 tence of giving up his place to him, yet he would 
 never truft the dangerous bait of his fham-juftice. 
 But as the people are enraged at that violence 
 which would have been offered to you by an un- 
 juft power, that generous old man thought it high 
 time to try the fuccefs of twenty years expetati- 
 on. He has founded Leon, and his faithful agents 
 have,p:a6lifcd upon the minds of both great and 
 fm?.ll. When Caftile was preparing ten thoufand 
 men to reftore that prince to the wilhes of his peo- 
 ple, he fpreads his fame abroad, and mews him on- 
 ly at the head of an army, ready to launch the a- 
 venging thunder on the bafe ufurper's head. Leon 
 is befieged and Don Silvio commands in perfon the 
 fuccour you have fiom his father. 
 
 Elvira. A fuccour fo powerful may readily flat- 
 ter our hopes ; but I am afraid my brother will be 
 under too great obligations to him. 
 
 D. Alvarez. Is it not furprizing, madam, that, 
 nctwkhftanding the ftorm that threatens the ufur- 
 per, all reports from Leon confirm, that he is go- 
 ing to marry the countefs Agnefa? 
 
 Elvira. I have heard nothing from that illuftri- 
 ous maid lately, which makes me uneafy; me al- 
 ways detefled th^t tyrant. He endeavours to 
 ftrengthen his inlereft by an alliance with her. 
 
 Eliza. She is under other engagements of ho- 
 nour and affection, too powerful to 
 
 D. Alvarez. The prince is coming. 

 
 O ! N A V A R R E. 47 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 D. GARCIA, DONNA ELVIRA, D. A L" 
 VAREZ, ELIZA. 
 
 D. GARCIA. 
 
 MA D A. M, I am come to rejoice with you 
 at the good news you have received. That 
 brother who threatens the infamous tyrant with 
 death, *at the fame time gives hopes to my love, and 
 offers me a welcome occafion of expofing myfelf 
 to new dangers for your fake. If heaven proves 
 kind to me, this right hand fhall lay the infidel 
 dead at your feet, and reftore your family to its 
 former grandeur. And what gives me more plea- 
 fure ftill, is, that the ftars h^ve reftored your bro- 
 ther to the throne; for fo rny love may fhine out, 
 without imputation, as if by means of your perfon, 
 I only fought to gain myfelf a crown. Yes, my 
 heart would fliew the world that my regards were 
 for you alone; and I have a thoufand times wifli- 
 ed you in a humble ftation, that the facrifice of 
 my heart migrrt repair heaven's injuftice to you; 
 and that you might be indebted to my love for all 
 you owe to your birth. But as heaven has depriv- 
 ed me of that fatisfa&ion, be fo obliging as to let 
 my love have fome hope from his death whom I 
 am preparing to meet, and allow me by my faith- 
 ful fervices to difpofe the minds of a brother, and 
 a whole nation to be favourable to me. 
 
 Elvira. The favour of ? brother, and of a nation 
 are not enough to crown your hopes : I am fenfible, 
 that by efpoufing our caufe, you can make an hun- 
 died gloriuus exploits fpeakin favour of your love.
 
 48 DONGARCIA 
 
 Elvira is net the prize of that attempt, there is flill 
 a greater difficulty to furmount. 
 
 D. Garcia. I know what you mean, madam, and 
 am fenfible that my heart iighs in vain for you; 
 and am not unacquainted with the mighty diffi- 
 culty, though you do not mention it. 
 
 Elvira. People often take ill what is well meant. 
 "We may be led into miftakes by too much heat: 
 but fince I muft, I will fpeak. Shall I tell you 
 when you may expect to pleafe me, and when you 
 may have feme hope ? 
 
 13. Garcia. I would look upon that, madam, as 
 a very.great favour. 
 
 Elvira. When you know how to love as you 
 
 OUght. 
 
 D. Garcia. Alas, madam, can any thing equal 
 the paflion you have infpired me with ? 
 
 Elvira. When your paflion does not difpleafc 
 me. 
 
 D. Garcia. That is my only ftudy. 
 
 Elvira. When you {hall ceafe to entertain un- 
 worthy thoughts of me. 
 
 D. Garcia. I love you to madnefs. 
 
 Eivira. When you have made amends for your 
 offences, and laid afide that jealous humour which 
 hurts the addrefles you offer to me, and prejudices 
 me agair.ft them with juft anger. 
 
 D. Garcia. Indeed, madam, flill fome remains 
 of jealoufy cleave to my heart, in fpite of my bed 
 endeavours to prevent it; a rival, though at fomc 
 diftance from your charming perfon, does diP.irb 
 me. Whether through reafon or fancy, I Always 
 imagine you are unhappy in his abfence, and that, 
 notwithstanding my afliduous behaviour to pleafe 
 you, yo+i continually figh for that too happy man.
 
 OF NAVARRE. 49 
 
 But if you arc difpleafed at my fufpicions, It is in 
 your power to eafe me of them: Yes, you can 
 drive jealo-ufy from my mind, and diffipate all the 
 horrors with which that monfter fills my foul. 
 Submit therefore to refolve the doubt that afHi&s 
 me, and with a kind confeffion from your charm- 
 ing mouth, make me certain of what my grcateffc 
 diligence could not find out. 
 
 Elvira. The tyranny of your fufpicions is very 
 great, prince. A heart mould be underftood at 
 the Icaft intimation, and does not love the impor- 
 tunity of thofe flames which require fuch particu- 
 lar explanations. The firil movement which our 
 fouls difcover mould fatisfy a difcrect lover. "Were 
 I to chufe for myfelf, I do net know in whofe fa- 
 vourl mould determine, whether your's or Don Sil- 
 vio's: but the very defiring to conftrain you net to 
 be jealous, might have given fome information to 
 any one but you; I thought that rule might have 
 given light enough, without faying more; but 
 your love is not fatisfied, and requires an open de- 
 claration: I mull fay plainly, I love you, nay, per- 
 haps fwear to it. 
 
 D. Garcia. Indeed, madam, I ccnfcfa lam too 
 forward : I fnould be fatisfied with what you pleafe, 
 a".d lequire no other information: I flatter myfelf 
 you have fome fmall companion for me, and that 
 I am happier than I dcferve. My jealous fufpici- 
 ons are all over; my fentence is very agreeable, 
 and I receive the law thereby prefcribed to fet my 
 heart free from this unjuft empire. 
 
 Elvira. You promife a great deal, prince, and I 
 very much doubt whether you can put that force 
 upon yourfelf. 
 
 D. Garcia. Ah! madam, to render me Credible, 
 VOL. II. C
 
 50 DON GAR CIA 
 
 it is enough that what is promifeci to you ourhtto 
 be inviolable; beeaufe the hsppinefs of obeying you 
 renders every thing eafy. May heaven declare e- 
 "tcrnal war againft me, may it Jay me brcathlefs at 
 your feet, cr which is worfc, may your wrath be 
 pcurcd on me, if ever my love defcends to fuch 
 wec.kncfs as to fail in the duties of that promife; 
 if ever the lead jealous tnmfport in my foul 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 .ELVIRA, D. GARCIA, I). ALVAREZ, EHKA, 
 
 [Footman prefeniing a letter to Elvira.] 
 
 ELVIRA. 
 
 WAS un eafy, and you greatly oblige me: let 
 the meflenger ftay. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 ELVIRA, D. GARCIA, D. ALVAREZ, ELIZA. 
 
 ELVIRA low and afiue. 
 
 I Plainly fee by his looks how much this letter 
 cliflurbs him. Prodigious effecT: of his jea- 
 1'i'us mind! Prince, what flops you in the middle 
 o'~ your. oath ? [Aloud. 
 
 . D.. Garcia, I was afraid of interrupting you, 
 r.r I thought you might have fom'e fecret together. 
 Elvira. I think the tone of your voice is much 
 changed, and your eyes Icok wild; I am amazed 
 - fuaiieu alteration: pray tell m-e from what 
 'it proceeds. 
 
 D. Garcia. I am fick at heart fuddenly. 
 Elviia. Are you often thus afredted? Someimme-
 
 OTN.arVAR'RE. 5! 
 
 diate reme.'y is needful; thofe illnefles are very 
 frequent. 
 
 D. Garcia. Sometimes. 
 
 Elvira. Alas, frail prince! here let this writing 
 cure your diftemper, it is no where but in the 
 mind. 
 
 D. Garcia. That writing, madam! no, my hand 
 refbfes it: I know your thoughts, and what you ac- 
 cufc me of, if 
 
 Elvira. Read it, I tell you, and fatisfy yourfelf. 
 
 D. Garcia. That you may afterwards call me 
 weak, jealous; no, no, I will convince you that 
 this letter has not in the lead difturbed me, and to 
 juflify myfelf, I will not read it, though you arc 
 pleated to allow me. 
 
 Elvira. If you perfift in your refufal, I fhould 
 be in the wrong to force you ; it is fuflicient I let 
 you fee whofe hand it is. 
 
 D. Garcia. My will ought always to fubmit to 
 yours; if it is your plesfure I fliculd read it for 
 you, I fhall do it very willingly. 
 
 Elvira. Yes, yes, prince, take it; you fhall read 
 it for me. 
 
 D. Garcia. To obcv you, macuim ; and I may 
 f,iy 
 
 Elvira. What you pleafe ; pray difpatch. 
 
 D. Garcia. It comes from Donna Agnefa, I 
 perceive. 
 
 Elvira. It does fo; and I am glad of it, as Well 
 t.,r YOU;- f.ike .is my own. 
 
 D. Garcia reads/] " Notwithfbnding all con- 
 ** tempt, the tyrant pcrfiils in his love to me;. and 
 <; more effectually to compafs his ends, has, fmce 
 " you ;u )ien :.., turned on me all that violence 
 " ; vlth \vMch he purfucd the match between .your- 
 
 C 2
 
 2, DON GARCIA 
 
 '" felf and his fon. Thofe who can claim any~pew- 
 " er over me do all approve this unworthy pro- 
 ff pofal, being infpired by the villainous motives 
 *". of falfe honour. I do not know as yet where 
 '*' my perfecution will end. But I will die foon- 
 " er than conferrt. May you, fair Elvira enjoy a 
 " happier fate." 
 
 D. AGNESA, 
 Her foul is endued with a furprifmg virtue. 
 
 Elvira. I will go and write an anfwer to this il- 
 luftrious friend. In the mean time, prince, learn 
 to arm yourfelf better againft fuch accidents. I 
 have calmed your ternpcft this time, and the thing 
 has pafl mildly off: bur, perhaps, 1 may not be in 
 a humour to do fo again. 
 
 D. Garcia. 'What? you think then - 
 
 Elvira. I think what I ought: farewel, do not 
 forget my advice; and if your love of me be real- 
 ly fo great as you pretend, let me fee fuch proofs 
 of it as I cxpet. 
 
 D. Garcia. Be affured, that I intend nothing 
 mere than -to obey you jandl would fooner die than 
 fail in -it. 
 
 A C T II. S C E N E I. 
 
 ELIZ/l, D. LOPEZ. 
 
 ELIZA. 
 
 TO be plain with you, I am not furprized at 
 what the prince docs; as a foul fired with 
 a noble paflion cannot avoid being tranfportcd with 
 jealoufy fometimes', it is very natural that its wifli-
 
 OF NAVARRE, ft 
 
 es be often crofled by doubts, and I muft think 
 well of it; but what I am amazed at, Don Lo- 
 pez, is to be acquainted that you prepare fufpicions 
 for him, that you contrive them, and he is only 
 jealous with your eyes, and diflurbed by your cares. 
 Really I muft tell you again, that I am not furpriz- 
 ed at the anxieties and fufpicions of a fincere lo- 
 v -, out to fee a perfon who is not in love have 
 ali trc i'.al wfics of a real admirer, is a very par- 
 ti' ular caf<', which belongs only to you. 
 
 D. Lop- 7. Let every body talk upon that fub- 
 jel as thry pleafe: every man muft rule his con- 
 duel by wuat he propofes to himfelf; and as you 
 reject my love, I muft endeavour to make my beil 
 court to the prince. 
 
 Eliza But if you full encourage this temper In 
 him, he will make his court very ill. 
 
 Don Lopez. My charming Eliza, was it- ever 
 known that people about great m^n ever ftudied 
 any thing but their own intereft? Was there ever 
 a compleat courtier increafcd his prince's retinue 
 by cenfuring the faults he law in them, or give 
 himf If concern for their real intereft, in cafe he 
 could enlarge his fortune by them ? All fuch peo- 
 ple aim at is to get the eafieft way to their favour, 
 which they may eafily do by flattering their infir- 
 mities, and blindly commending what they chufe 
 to do, and never encouraging any thing that may 
 give them offence; that is the whole fecret of get- 
 ting into their favour. If a man give them good 
 advice he is looked upon as a troublefome fellow, 
 and will be thrown out of that confidence which 
 he got into by an artful compliance. Really, we 
 fee that the art of courtiers is to make their advan-
 
 54 DON GARCIA 
 
 tage of the follies of the great, not to reprove, but 
 encourage them in their errors. 
 
 Eliza. For a time thofe maxims may anfwer, but 
 there are fuch things as revcrfes of fortune. If the 
 miftaken great ones fee into their error, they will be 
 revenged on all fuch fawners for the injury clone 
 their honour; aiicl I mufl tell you, that you are too 
 free in explaining your politics. If a jufr, account 
 of your reafons were laid before the prince, I arn 
 afraid your fortune would not be made by it. 
 
 D. Lopez. I know very well Eliza's discretion 
 will prevent her from making this conyerfation 
 public; and I can deny all I have faid: betides, e- 
 very body knows what I have faid to be true, and 
 why fhculd I keep my proceedings private? When 
 we make ufe of tricking or treafon,. we may be a- 
 fraid of a fall; but I can be accufed of nothing 
 but a little coinplaifance, and need fear nothing. 
 I only follow the prince's inclination to jea- 
 loufy: his foul is fed by fufpicions, and I iludy 
 to find occafions to give him uneafinefs, and look 
 iharp out on all fides for matter to make up our 
 private ccnverfalion. And when I have it in my 
 power to diflurb his quiet by a piece of news, then 
 he regards me moft, and I can obferve him fwallow. 
 the poifon eagerly, and be as thankful for it as for 
 the account of a victory, that crowned him with 
 honour and happinefs. But I fee my rival com- 
 ing, and I will leave you together; and notwith- 
 flanding I give up all hopes of ever pofleSng you, 
 yet your giving him the preference, in myprefence, 
 would give me pain; therefore I will avoid that" 
 mortification as much as I poflibly can. 
 
 Eliza. All fenfible lovers will do the fame.
 
 OFNAVARRE. 5"5 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 D. ALVAREZ, ELIZA. 
 D . ALVAREZ. 
 
 WE are at laft informed that the king 
 of Navarre has declared himfelf this day 
 i;i favour of the prince's love, and that a frefh re- 
 inforcement of troops is ready to be employed in 
 the fervice of her to -whom he wirties to afpire. I 
 am furpnzeu at the quick advances they have made. 
 B.:t 
 
 SCENE nr. 
 
 D. GARCIA, E L I Z A, D. A L V A- R E Z. 
 D. GARCIA. 
 
 HAT is the princefs doing? 
 Eliza. I fuppofe (he is writing letters, my lord 5 
 but I will acquaint her that you are here. 
 D. Garcia. I will wait till me is at liberty. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 i>. GARCIA alone. 
 
 1T"?r 7" HEN the profpcdl of feeing her is fo near, 
 
 V V * fccl n) V niind uncommonly- difturbed ; 
 
 refentmcnt and fear makes rr.e tremble all over. 
 
 TukjCuie, D. Garcia, th-ta blind caprice do not lead 
 
 thee to fome precipice, and the flrong diforders of 
 
 thy mind betray thee into too affured a belief of thy 
 
 fenfes. Take thy rcafon for thy guide, and ob- 
 
 fe^'ve whether the appearance of thy fufpicions are 
 
 C 4
 
 56 DON GARCIA 
 
 well grounded ; do not refufe their voice, But take 
 care they do not impofe upon thee to put too much 
 confidence in them, that they may not give too 
 much into thy ftrft tranfports: read again fedately 
 this half letter. Ha ! I would give any thing for 
 the ether half! But this is more than fulacient to 
 Ihew me that I am unfortunate. 
 
 If your rival 
 
 you fhould however 
 
 and you may deftroy 
 
 the greateft obftacle 
 
 I gratefully remember 
 
 in delivering me from 
 
 his love, his devoirs- 
 
 but he is defpicable to me with 
 
 purge therefore your flame from 
 
 merit the regards that are 
 
 and when you are promifcd 
 
 do not abfolutely refufe 
 
 Yes, in thefe characters, my fate is very plain , by 
 this fhe fhews her heart as well as hand; and the 
 imperfect meanings of thefe fatal words do not re- 
 quire the other half to difcover it. We muft at 
 firft, however, carry k fair, and not difcover our 
 refentment to the faithlefs woman: we will puzzle 
 her with the fame arts fhe ufes. I fee her approach- 
 ing; reafon, contain my tranfports, and guard my 
 outward appearance for a fhort time.
 
 OF NAVARRE. 57 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 ELVIRA, D. GARCIA. 
 
 E L V I R A. 
 
 FORGIVE me for detaining you. 
 D. Garcia low and afide.] How eafily flic 
 can difTemble ! 
 
 Elvira. We have been informed juft now, that 
 the king your father approves of your intentions, 
 and has confentcd that his fon fhould reftore us to 
 our fubjefts. It gives me great pleafure. 
 
 D. Garcia. Yes, madam, I am alfo very glad of 
 it: but 
 
 Elvira. Undoubtedly the tyrant will not eafily 
 fcreen himfelf from the thunder that threatens him 
 from all parts; and I pleafe myfelf with hoping, 
 that the fame bravery with which I was delivered 
 from his brutal fury, and placed fafe within the 
 walls of Aftorga, will, by the conqueft of Leon, 
 finifh that horrid monfter's feverity. 
 
 D. Garcia. The fuccefs will foon iliew it : but I 
 beg we may have fome other converfation : may I be 
 fo free as to beg to know who you have written to 
 fince fate brought us here? 
 
 Elvira. From whence does your concern arifer 
 Why do you aflc this qucftion ? 
 
 D. Garcia. Only out of pure curiofity, madam. 
 
 Elvira. Curiofity is fuppofed to be the daughter 
 of jcaloufy. 
 
 D. Garcia. Not the leaft of what you fuppofe. 
 Your commands deter me from that vice. 
 
 Elvira. Without making further enquiry into 
 the reafoii for your afking, I have wrste two letters 
 C 5
 
 5 8 DON GARCIA 
 
 to the countefs of Leon, and to the marquis Don 
 Louis at Burgos two: does this fatisfy you ? 
 
 D. Garcia. To no other perfon, madam ? 
 
 Elvira. Really no. lam ftirprifed at this con- 
 verfation. 
 
 D. Garcia. Pray recollet before you deny it. 
 People often perjure themfelves by not confider- 
 ing -well. 
 
 Elvira. In this my mouth cannot be perjured. 
 
 D. Garcia. It is guilty of a very great falfhoocl, 
 however. 
 
 Elvira. Prince! 
 
 D. Garcia. Madam! 
 
 Elvira. Heavens ! what means this extravagance ! 
 tell me, have you loft your fenfes ? 
 
 D. Garcia. Yes, indeed, I loft them, when I 
 had the misfortune to fuck in the poifon of your 
 love, and when I expected to meet with fmcerity 
 in thofe faithlefs charms that bewitched me. 
 
 Elvira. What treachery do you compl 
 
 am o 
 
 F? 
 
 D.Garcia. Ah! deceitful heart! how well fhe 
 understands the art of feigning ! But every door is 
 ihut againft her; no hole left to creep out at: here, 
 look on this, and confefs your own writing. The 
 ftyle of this part of a letter mews plainly who you 
 intended it for. 
 
 Elvira. And does tins difturb you? 
 
 D. Garcia. Do not beafhamed of this writing. 
 
 Elvira. It is not ufual for innocence to blufh. 
 
 D. Garcia. Here indeed we fee it opprefled, 
 you will deny the letter, becaufe it wants a name. 
 
 Elvira. I do not deny it: it is my own hand 
 writing 
 
 D. Garcia. I am amazed you own with it; but 
 I fuppofe you sviil fay it was wrote to fome indif-
 
 OF NAVARRE. 59 
 
 ferent pcrfon, or that the kind expreffions in it 
 were intended for fome relation, or female friend. 
 
 Elvira. No; I intended it fora lover,. and a lo- 
 ver I efteem. 
 
 D. Garcia. And may I, perfidious 
 
 Elvira. Unworthy prince, flop the violence of 
 your fury: though I do not need to obey. any pcr- 
 fon here, and am only accountable to myfelt, yet I 
 will clear myfelf of the offence you fo bafely charge 
 me with, to punifh you. Do not doubt but you 
 mail be undeceived. I want not a defence to fhew 
 my innocence; you fhall judge in your own caufe, 
 and fhall be obliged to pronounce your own fen- 
 tc:;cc. 
 
 D. Garcia. This myftery I cannot understand. 
 
 Elvira. To your misfortune you fhall foon un- 
 dedtand it. Eliza, come here. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 D. GARCIA, ELVIRA, ELIZA. 
 
 M ELIZA. 
 
 ADAM. 
 
 Elvira toD. Garcia."] Take good notice whether 
 I ufc any art to deceive you, whether by any move- 
 ment of the body, or motion of the eye, I endea- 
 vour to ward off this fudden ftroke. [To Eliza.] 
 Tell me immediately, where did you leave the let- 
 ter I wrote juft now? 
 
 Eliza. I confefs I am to blame, madam ; I am 
 ignorant how it happened, I left it upon my table, 
 and have juft now been told, that Don Lopez,with 
 his ufual freedom, came into my room, and ob- 
 ferving every thing that was lying about,, found 
 C 6
 
 <5<d DONCARCIA 
 
 this letter. When he was opening it, Eleonor, 
 endeavouring to catch it from him, before he could 
 read it, it was torn in two pieces, one of Avhich 
 Don Lopez run off with, notwithstanding all her 
 efforts to the contrary. 
 
 Elvira. Have you the other half? 
 
 Eliza. Yes, madam, here it is. 
 
 Elvira. Give it me, [to D. Garcia.] and we will 
 fee who is to blame; here, join this to that you 
 have, and read it; I will hear you. 
 
 D. Garcia. To the prince Don Garcia. Hah! 
 
 Elvira. Read on ; are you thunderftruck at the 
 direction ? 
 
 D. Garcia reads. 3 u If your rival, prince, a- 
 (t larms you, you fliould, however, fear yourfelf 
 " more than him, and you may deftroy, whenever 
 " you pleafe, the greatefl obftacle your paflion 
 <f meets with. I gratefully remember what Don 
 tl Garcia did in delivering me from our haughty 
 " rnvifhers; his love, his devoirs are agreeable to 
 " me, but he is defpicable to me with his jealoa- 
 " fy. Purge, therefore, your flame from that foul 
 " blemifh; merit the regards that are beftowed 
 " upon you; and when you are promifed by peo- 
 '* pie to be made happy, do not abfolutely refufe 
 " to do fo yourfelf." ELVIRA. 
 
 Elvira. Well, what think you of this? 
 
 D. Garcia. Ah ! madam, I am quite diffract- 
 ed. Too great a punifliment cannot be inflidted 
 upon me. 
 
 Elvira. Enough; know that I defired the letter 
 fhould be read to you now, for no other reafon but 
 to falfify your afiertions, and that I might have an 
 opportunity to unfay all that I find there in your 
 favour. FareweJ.
 
 Of NAVARRE. 6" I 
 
 D. Garcia. Whither do you fly, madam? 
 Elvira. Where you, too jealous man, never (hall 
 come. 
 
 D. Garcia. Forgive, madam, a wretched lover, 
 who has made himfelf hated by you, by a wondrous 
 turn of fate, and who, if he had remained quiet 
 and unconcerned, had defcrved to be more blam- 
 ed. For, can a foul, which mixes not fear with its 
 hope, be truly enamoured? And could you believe 
 I had loved you, if I had been unalarmed at this 
 letter? If I had not trembled at the thunderbolt 
 which I fancied had deftroyed all my happinefs? I 
 leave it to your own judgment; fay, would not 
 fuch an accident have thrown any other lover into 
 my error? Alas! how could I withhold my aflent 
 to fo clear a proof ? 
 
 Elvira. Yes, you might have done it: my fen- 
 timents fo clearly explained to you, might have fe- 
 cured your doubts: you had not the leaft to be a- 
 fraid of, and if fome others had had fuch a pledge, 
 they would never have paid the leaft regard to what 
 people fakl. 
 
 D. Garcia. The lefs deferving we are of an ex- 
 pected benefit, with more difficulty we depend up- 
 on it; a deftiny too replete with glory feems flip- 
 pery, and leaves to our fufpiJons an eafy declivi- 
 ty. As for me, who fo little deferve your good- 
 nefs, I doubted of my happy fortune: I thought 
 that being in a place of my jurifdiction, you for- 
 ced yourfelf to be a little complaifant; that dif- 
 
 guifing to me your feverity 
 
 Elvira. And was I capable of condefcending to 
 fuch a mean fliift! to make ufe of fhameful fidli- 
 on ! to act upon motives of a fhameful fear, to be- 
 tray my fentiments, and becaufe I was in your
 
 6 2 DON GARCIA 
 
 power, to cover. my hatred with a maik of favour f 
 Could my heart be fo little fwayed by glory! can 
 you think fo, and dare to tell me it? Know tlr^t 
 this heart cannot debafe itfeif ; :hat nothing under 
 heaven can force it to do it: and if, by this odd 
 miftake, you have feen marks of a gosdnefs of 
 which you are not worthy, know, that notwitfiftan- 
 ding your power, I can fhew the contempt I re- 
 fol veto have for you, defy your fury, and convince 
 you that \ was noc guilty of any bafenefc, nor ever 
 will be fo. 
 
 D. G.uxia. Well, I am guilty, I do not deny 
 it ; but I beg pardon of your divine charms, I beg 
 it uv the iiike of the moft lively flame that ever 
 two fair eyes kindled in a mortal's breaft. But 
 if your w,-?.th cannot be appeafed, if my crime is 
 too great to h- forgiven; if you do not look upon 
 the love that caufed it, nor the fpeedy repentance 
 vv.hich my heart manifefts to you ; I mufl then, by 
 putting a period to my days, free rnyfelf from thefe 
 horrid pains. You mufl not imagine that I can 
 live a minute under your difpleafurej the cruel 
 length of that minute already makes my heart link 
 under its cutting remcrfej the terrible wounds of 
 a thoufand vultures are not to be compared to its 
 mortal pangs. Tell me, madam, if I am to expect 
 pardon, elfe this fword, by a favouroble ftroke, 
 mall, in your prefence, pierce the heart of a wretch- 
 ed man-, this treacherous heart, whofe anxieties 
 have offended your cxceilive goodnefs fo much. I 
 mall be too happy in death, if this lafl ftroke cancels 
 in your mind the image of my fault, and leaves no 
 part of your hatred in the weak remembrance of 
 riiy love: this is, the only kinclnefs my afTscncn 
 requires from you.
 
 OF NAVARRE. 6j 
 
 Elvira. Ah! too cruel prince. 
 
 D. Garcia. Say, madam, fpeak. 
 
 P^lvha. Should I ftill be kind to you, and allow 
 myfelf to be affronted fo frequently? 
 
 D. Garcia. A mind that is in love can never 
 give an affront, and that love excufes its faults. 
 
 Elvira. Love cannot excufe fuch fury. 
 
 D.Garcia. All its ardour ariics from its move- 
 ments, and the ftronger it is the mere difficulty it 
 finds 
 
 Elvira. Speak to me no more of it; you Jeferve 
 my hatred. 
 
 D. Garcia. Do you hate me then ? 
 
 Elvira. I will try to do it at leaft; but I fear 
 rny endeavours will be to no purpofe, and that all 
 the difpleafure your behaviour has excited will not 
 be fufiicient to make me carry my revenge far e- 
 nough. 
 
 D. Garcia. Do not try the effects of fo heavy a 
 punifhmentj as loffer you my life for your revenge; 
 pronounce my featence, and I will obey you imme- 
 diately. 
 
 Elvira. A perfon who cannot hate, muft be ill 
 qualified to kill. 
 
 D. Garcia. Determine either to forgive or pu- 
 nifii me; I cannot live except your goodnefs grant 
 a pardon to my rafh mi (lakes. 
 
 Elvira. Alas! my refolutions are too plainly 
 feen; I think it is forgiving a criminal, when one 
 tells him they cannot hate him. 
 
 D. Garcia. Ah! it 13 tco much. Allow me, a- 
 dorable princefs 
 
 Elvira. Hoid, I hate myfelf for my weaknefj. 
 
 D. Garcia alone.] At laft I am
 
 64 DON GARCIA 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 D. GARCIA, D. L O P E Z. 
 D. LOPEZ. 
 
 I AM come to inform you of a fecret, that may. 
 juflly alarm your love. 
 
 D. Garcia. Do not, while I am in. this charm- 
 ing tranfport, come to tell me of fecrets or alarms;., 
 after what I have juft heard and feen, I will encou- 
 rage no fufpicions; the unequalled goodnefsoffo 
 dear an object mould {hut my ears againft all vain 
 reports; fo let me hear no more of them. 
 
 D. Lopez. My lord, your intereft is all I confi- 
 der, fo let it be jufl as you pleafe: I thought what 
 I had discovered fhould he immediately commu- 
 nicated to you; but as you do not chufe to hear 
 it, I am ready to change the difcourfe, and tell you, 
 that every family in Leon has already thrown afide 
 the mafk, upon the report of the troops of Caftile; 
 and efpecially the populace have fhewn fuch refpecl: 
 to their new king, that it, to all appearance, makes, 
 the tyrant tremble for fear. 
 
 D. Garcia. However, Caftile fhall net have the 
 victory without our attempting to (hare the honour 
 of it; our troops may be able to imprint fear in 
 the mind of Moorgat. But let me hear that fe- 
 cret you have to tell me. 
 
 D. Lopez. I have nothing to fay, my lord. 
 
 D. Garcia. Come, come, I give you free liber- 
 ty to fpeak. 
 
 D. Lopez. I am too well informed by what you 
 faid, my lord, for that, and as my intelligence may
 
 OF NAVARRE. 65 
 
 give you uneafinefs, I Avill be filent for the fu- 
 ture. 
 
 D. Garcia. I am determined to know it, with- 
 out any more to do. 
 
 D.Lopez. I muft obey you, my lord; but it 
 would be imprudent to explain it in this public 
 place. Let us go from hence, and you fhall know 
 it, and judge of it. 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 ELVIRA, ELIZA. 
 EL V I R A. 
 
 WH AT do you think of this ftrange weak- 
 nefs in the heart of a princefs, Eliza ? 
 to lay afide my refentment fo foon, and forgive fo 
 bafe an affront? 
 
 Eliza. I am not furprized, madam, at your an- 
 ger being abated ; notwithftanding the provocati- 
 on you had to be difobliged. I know it is very 
 difficult to put up with an affront from the man we 
 love; but as there is nothing more provoking, fo 
 nothing we fooner forgive. If a beloved offender 
 throw himfelf at our feet, he foon gets the better 
 of our anger, and the more eafily, if the offence 
 proceeds from fmcere love. 
 
 Elvira. But this is the laft time I fhall blufh for 
 my weaknefs, whatever power love may have over 
 me: and if he ever give me reafon again to be ang- 
 ry, he muft not expect forgivenefs; if my tender- 
 nefs for him foftens my refentment, I will guard 
 myfelf againft him by an oath: for really a mind
 
 06 .DON GARCIA 
 
 jnfpired by pride, let it be ever fo fmall a fliare, Is 
 afhamed to break its word; and frequently at the 
 expence of a painful ftruggle makes a bold attempt 
 upon its own wi{hes, flands upon its honour, and 
 facrifices every thing to the noble pride of maintain, 
 ing its word; therefore by my having now pardoned 
 him, no judgment can be made of what yet may 
 happen ; and whatever fortune rmayfeem to prepare, 
 I do not think I can bj the prince of Navarre's, till 
 he has manifefled an entire cure of thofe melan- 
 choly fits by which he is difturbed, and give me 
 fuflkient reafon to. think that he will never relapfe 
 into the like affront again. 
 
 Eliza. But pray, madam, what affront is the 
 jealoufy of a lover to us? 
 
 Elvira. Nothing defertes a greater refentment, 
 and fince we undergo fo much when we are forced 
 to own we love, fince the rigid honour of our fox 
 oppofes a mighty obftade to fuch acknowledg- 
 ments, ought a lover, when he fees us furmount 
 that obftacle in his favour; ought he, I fay, with 
 impunity to doubt that testimony? And is he not 
 very much to blame to difbclieve that which is ne- 
 ver faid without the grcateil reluctance. 
 . Eliza. For, my part, I think that we ihouLl net 
 be offended when they are a li:j.le niflldent i'.poa 
 fuch cccafior.s ; and that it is A dangerous thin^,. 
 madam, for a lover to be abfolutcly perfuadcd that* 
 he is beloved. 
 
 Elvira. Let us argiie no more about this; eve- 
 ry one thinks for theinfelvcs; and iiv fhort, my foul? 
 is offended with this fcruple, and notwlthftam'.ing 
 my wifhes, I feel fomething which forbodcs an ec- ; 
 clairecifement between the prince and me, which;.
 
 OF NAVARRE. 67 
 
 in fpitc of his great virtue But who con\es here ? 
 Heavens ! it is Don Silvio of Caftile ! 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 ELVIRA, D. ALPHONSO, thought tO be 
 
 D. Silvio, ELIZA. 
 
 BY what furprizing turn of fortune, my lord, 
 have you come hither : 
 
 D. Alphonfo. My arrival, madam, muft needs fur- 
 prize you, and my entering this town without noifej 
 whofe accefs is rendered difficult by order of a ri- 
 val, to efcape being fecn by the foldiers, is an ac- 
 cident you did not expcft to meet with; but if in, 
 this I have furmounted fome obstacles, the defire 
 .of feeing you is able to affect much greater won- 
 ders. My heart has felt inexpreflible torments in 
 being abfent from you, and I was not able tQ de- 
 ny myfclf any longer the fight of your amiable per- 
 fon. I come, therefore, to tell ycu that I return 
 thanks to heaven^ that you arc refeued from the 1 
 hands of an execrable tyrant ; but in the miclft of 
 tills happincfs, it is the grer.tcfl torture to me to 
 fee that my rigorous fate envied me the honour 
 of this glorious deed, and too unjuftly offered to 
 my rival the agreeable dangers of that piece offer- 
 vice. Yes, madam, my refoluticris to break your 
 chains would undoubtedly have been equal to his; 
 an.l I fho'.iU have gr.ined this victory for you, if 
 heaven had not deprived me of that honour. 
 
 Elvira. That you have a.n heart capable of o- 
 vercoming the greateft dangers, I very well kno\v, 
 my lord-, and I make not the lead doubt but that ge- 
 nerous zeahvhich animates you to revenge my quair
 
 68 DON GARCIA 
 
 rel, would have been able to have dorre for me all" 
 that another hand has performed ; but without this 
 attion which you was capable of I am fufficiently 
 obliged to the houfe of Caflile. Every one knows 
 what the count your father has done for tr.e late 
 king. After having aided him to the lad hour, 
 he made his kingdom a fafe ?.fylum for my bro- 
 ther j full twenty years he concealed him from the 
 cruel rage of his enemies, and now to re (lore to 
 his forehead the fplendor of a ci own, you are march- 
 ing in perfon again ft our ufurptrs. Are you not 
 content? Do not thefe biave efforts fufficiently o- 
 blige me to you? Would you, my lord, obftinate- 
 'ly expert to captivate my whole fate to you? And 
 muft I never receive fo much as the fhadow of one 
 fole benefit, but what con.es from you ? Ah ! fuf- 
 "fer me in thefe misfortunes I am expofed to by my 
 'defliny, to owe fomethir.g to the cares of another 
 likewife, and do not complain that the glory has 
 l>een acquired by another perfon where it was im- 
 poffible for you to be. 
 
 D. Alphonfo. Yes, madam, I orght not any 
 longer to complain ; you are pleafed wi;h too much 
 reafon to conftrain me to it; and we unjuftly com- 
 plain of one misfortune, when a much greater af 
 fli&s us. This fuccour from a rival greatly mor- 
 tifies me; but, alas! this is not the greateft of my 
 miferies. The blow, the fevere blow, which wounds 
 me to theheart, isto fee that rival preferred to me. 
 Yes, I but too plainly fee that his happy pretenfi- 
 cns prevailed above mine; and that opportunity 
 of ferving you, that advantage which offered of 
 fignahzing his bravery, that glorious exploit in fav- 
 ing you was nothing but the pure effect of the good- 
 fortune of pleafing you ; the fecret power of a
 
 OF NAVARRE. 6p 
 
 wondrous flar which made the glory fall where 
 your withes were fixed. Thus all my endeavours 
 will be nothing but air, I am leading an army a- 
 gainft your cruel tyrants, but I march with trem- 
 bling when I conGder that your wifhes will not be 
 for me, and that if they are obtained, fortune pre- 
 pares the happinefs of more noble fucceiTes for my 
 rival. Ah! madam, mufti fee myfelf precipi- 
 tated from the glorious expectations I flattered my- 
 felf with ? And may I not be informed what I 
 have done that deferves this terrible fall? 
 
 Elvira. Afk me nothing before you confiderwhat 
 you ought to aflc of my fentiments : and as for this in- 
 difference of mine which feems to difturb you, I 
 -leave it to you, my lord, to anfwerfor me; for, in 
 (hort, you cannot be ignorant that I knrw fome of 
 the fecrcts of your foul, and I believe that foul to 
 be too nobie and generous to defire me to do what 
 is not juft. Speak; I make you the judge whe- 
 ther it is equitable to fuffer myfelf to be crowned 
 by an act of infidelity, whether you can, without 
 the utmoft injuftice, offer me an heart which ano- 
 ther has already gained; whether you have reafou 
 to complain and blame my refufal, which would 
 prevent you from committing a crime. Yes, my 
 lord, it is a crime, for the firft flames have fuch 
 facred rights over a generous foul, that it fliould 
 rather chufe to renpunce grandeur, and even life 
 itfclf, than incline to a fecond Jove. I have that 
 ardour for you, which efleem may fugged for an ex- 
 alted courage, for a magnanimous heart ; require 
 no more from me than what I owe you; but main- 
 tain the honour of your firir. choice. Notwith- 
 . Hand ing your new flames, confider what tender- 
 nefs the lovely Agnefa retains for you; who for
 
 70 DONGAHCIA' 
 
 an ungrateful man, for fudi you are, my lord, has 
 rejected the greateft offers. How generoufly fne 
 ilifdained the fplendour of a diadem; remember 
 what damgers fae has defied for your fake, and ren- 
 der to her heart what you owe it. 
 
 D. Alphonfo. Ah! madam, prefent not her 
 merit to my view; it is but too confpicuous to the 
 ungrateful man who forfakes her; and if my heart 
 mould tell yu what it feels for her, I fear it would 
 not feem innocent with regard to you* Yes, that 
 heart dares deplore her, and does not, without dif- 
 ficulty, follow the imperious violence of the love 
 that drags it. No expectation ever flattered my 
 de fires towards you, but at the fame time it extort- 
 ed fighs for her, and in the midft of it's pleafing 
 thoughts employed on you, flill my foul caft a me- 
 lancholy look towards my firft love, reproached it- 
 felf with the effeft of your heavenly charms, and 
 mixed remorfe with my beft withes. I have done 
 more, fince I muft tell you all, I have endeavour- 
 ed to free myfelf from your empire, to break your 
 chains, and again fubjet my heart under the in- 
 nocent yoke of it s firfl conqueror. But after all 
 my endeavours, my conftancy being overcome, is 
 ftill forced to fubmit to the evil that kills me, and 
 were I to be for ever wretched, I cannot renounce 
 my defires, or bear the melancholy idea of feeing 
 you poflefied by another; and the Father of all, 
 who difcovers your charms to me, before he lends 
 his light to that marriage, mult lend it to me by 
 death. I know I betray a charming princefs, but 
 after all, madam, is my heart guilty? Does ths 
 powerful afcendant of your beauty leave the mind 
 any liberty? Alas! I am much more to be piti- 
 ed than me; fhe, by lofing me, lofes only a faith-
 
 o ! :; A v A R R E. 71 
 
 Icfs man; and fuch ;i forrow is eafy to be comfort- 
 ed; but I have that unparalleled misfortune to a- 
 bandcn an amiable perfon, and of enduring alfo all 
 the torments of a rejected love. 
 
 Elvira. You have no torments but what youyour- 
 fclf run into, for our heart is always in our own 
 power; it may indeed fometimes fliew a little weak- 
 nefs, bur, in fliort, of nil ourpafllons reafon is the 
 chief. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 D.GARCIA, ELVIRA, D. ALPHONSO. 
 D. GARCIA. 
 
 MY coming is not, madam, I obferve, very 
 feafonable, as it difturbs your converfation. 
 Lmuft needs fay I did not expect to meet with 
 fuch good company here. 
 
 Elvira. This fight indeed furprized me extreme- 
 ly, and I no more expected it than you did. 
 
 D. Garcia. Yes, madam, fmce you fay fo, I do 
 not believe you were forewarned of this vifit; but 
 you, Sir, ought at lead to have done us the honour 
 to have advifed us of this happinefs, that we might 
 have been prepared without furprize, to have per- 
 formed thofe honours which are due to you. 
 
 D. Alphonfo. My lord, you are fo taken up 
 with heroic cares, 'tluit I had been much to blame 
 to have interrupted ycu; the fublime thoughts of 
 victorious princes cannot taHly (loop to compliments. 
 
 D. Garcia. But viclcrious princes, whofe he- 
 roic cares are fo commended, inftead of loving 
 fccrecy choofe to have wirnefilf of what they 
 do; their fouls bred y\- to ^"lc:y from their in-
 
 72 DON GARCIA 
 
 fancy, makes them, in their undertakings, go 
 bare-faced, and being always fupported by high fen- 
 timents, never defcend to mean difguifes. Do 
 you not, therefore, injure your heroic virtues in 
 palling fo fecretly through thefe places; are you 
 not afraid of people's looking upon this action as 
 below your charadler ? 
 
 D. Alphonfo. Whether any body will condemn 
 my conduct in this fecret vifit, I know not, but I 
 can faithfully fay I never courted obfcurity in fuch 
 undertakings as required the light. And were I 
 to undertake an enterprize upon you, you fhould 
 have no reafon to think 1 furprized you, for I would 
 take care to tell you of it beforehand. In the mean 
 time let us continue upon the ordinary terms, and 
 poftpone our debates to other affairs. Let us fup- 
 prefs the boiling of our too warm blood, and not 
 forget before whom we are both fpeaking. 
 
 Elvira to D. Garcia.] My lord, you are in the 
 wrong, and his vifit is fuch, that you 
 
 D. Garcia. Ah! madam, it is too much to ef- 
 poufe his quarrel, you ought to diflemble a little 
 better, when you pretend that you were ignorant 
 of his coming. Your warmth andquicknefs to de- 
 fend it is but an ill proof of its having furprized you. 
 
 Elvira. So little am I concerned at your fufpi- 
 cions, that 1 will not fo much as condefcend to 
 deny it. 
 
 D. Garcia. Go on with your heroic pride, and 
 without hefitating, let your whole heart explain it- 
 fc-lf. Do not deny any thing, fince you have con- 
 feffed it; it is giving too much credit to diflimu- 
 lation. Be brief, lay afide fcruples; fay that you 
 are fenfiLly touched with his paflion, that his pre- 
 " fence has fomething i:i it fo pleafing, that
 
 CF^IAVARRS. 73 
 
 Elvira. And if I have a mind to love him, can 
 you hinder me? can you pretend to any command 
 over my heart ? and am I to regulate my defires 
 by your direction? know that tco much pride has 
 deceived you if you think you have the leift pow- 
 er over me, and that my fentimenis arife from too 
 great a foul to fubmit to fiction : I will not tdl you 
 whether the count is beloved, but know that he is 
 very much efteemed, that hi's high virtue dtftrves 
 a princefs' love better than you ; that his ardcur 
 and affiduity make all the imprefHon en me afoul 
 is capable of, and that if the ever ruling power of 
 fate puts it out of my power to reward him vvuh 
 'my perfon, it is at lea ft in my power to prom He 
 him that I will never become the treafure of your 
 flames. And without amufing you any longer 
 with vain hcpes, this is xvhat I engage myfelf to, 
 and I will keep my word. I have difclofed my 
 thoughts to ycu, fmceycu will have it fo, and dif- 
 covered to you my real fentimcnts. Are you fa- 
 tisfied? have I fiifficiently explained myfelf? Con- 
 fider whether there remains any thing elfe for me 
 to do in order to clear rp your fufpicions. In the 
 interim, Don Silvio, if youperfiftin your rcfoluti- 
 ons to pleafe me, I freely tell you that I have oc- 
 caficn for your aid j and defire your utmoft effcrts 
 topunifh our tyrants. Value not the rranfports OL : 
 a capricious man, be deaf to his fury, and con- 
 fidcr who it is makes this requcft of you. 
 
 VOL. II I)
 
 74 D O N C A R C I A 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 D. GARCIA, D. A L P H O N S O. 
 D. GARCIA. 
 
 WITH you every thing* fiourifhes, your 
 foul proudly triumphs over my confa- 
 ficn, It is a pleafant tiling to you to hear the no- 
 bie confefTion of that vi&ory which you -obtain or 
 ver a rival, Gut it mud be an inexprefiible addition 
 to your happinefs to have that rival a witnefs to it, 
 and my ftifled pretenfions are illuftrious trophies in 
 your triumphant eyes. Enjoy this delight, tafte 
 it with deep draughts, but know that you have not 
 yet gained your point: I have too much reafon to 
 be e: raged, and numberlefs events may yet hap- 
 pen. .Defpair, when -it breaks loofe, goes a great 
 \vay, and in him that is abufeci nothing is unpar- 
 donable. If the ungiattful woman, in flattery; to 
 you, has juft now engaged never to be mine, my 
 iiidjgna'aon will furniih me with means, to prevent 
 her ever being yours. 
 
 D. Alphonfo. This obftrucbion does not in the 
 leaf;; ilifUirb me. We iliuil focn fee who is lila 
 to be the happy man; each by his valour will bj 
 able to defend the glcry ct his flames, or revenge 
 their misfortune. 'But as between rivals, the mod 
 fecate foul is eafily -tranfrorted beyond the limits 
 of reafon, and as I am unwilling that fucb a con- 
 vcrfation mculd exafperate ci:her of us, I defire 
 you would fhew me how I may retreat out of this 
 place. 
 
 D. Garcia. No, no; do net fear that you will 
 be forced .to violate the order that \vas jufl now
 
 OF NAVARRE. 75 
 
 prefcribed you. Whatever juft fury oppreffes me 
 and flatters you, I know when it fhould break out-, 
 this place is open for you; go then and exult in 
 the advantages you have obtained. But take this 
 along with you, my head alone can put your cou- 
 qucft into your hands. 
 
 D. Alphonfo. When things arrive at that pitch, 
 our difference will preiently be decided by for- 
 tune. 
 
 A C T IV. S C E N E I. 
 
 ELVIRA, B. ALVAREZ. 
 ELVIRA. 
 
 ALL you fay is to no purpofe, Don Alvarez, 
 I will never forget this OiTence, therefore 
 you may return; the wound is incurable, and all 
 endeavours to heal it make it but fefter the more. 
 Does he think I will yield to fome falfc refpects? 
 No, he has carried things too far, and his vain re- 
 pentance, which brought you hither, follicits a par- 
 don it fhall never obtain. 
 
 D. Alvarez. Madam, you would be very much 
 affccled were you lo fee how he is grieved; never 
 was any oiTence expiated with deeper remorfe. It 
 is well known, the prince is of an age that forces 
 him to follow the fir ft movements of his foul, and 
 in fuch boiling Mood as his, pnfilcn leaves no room 
 for reflection. D. Lopez, prejudiced by a falfe 
 report, was the occafionof his matter's error: there 
 was a very confufed rumour concerning the count's 
 fecrct arrival, and that you connived at it. The 
 D 2
 
 76 DONGARCIA 
 
 prince believed this report, and his love being fe* 
 duced by this falie alarm, has made this mighty 
 noife. But being now recovered from his miflake, 
 he is perfectly fenfible of your innocence, and his 
 turning away D. Lopez is a plain evidence of that 
 quick fenfe he has of his offending you. 
 
 Elvira, Alas! he too eafily believes me too in- 
 nocent; he has not an entire affurance of it yet. 
 Bid him weigh all things well, and not be too haf- 
 ty, for fear of being deceived. 
 
 D. Alvarez. Madam, he knows too well 
 
 Elvira. Good D. Alvarez, let us finifh this 
 difcourfe; I am weary of it; it revives in me an 
 unfeafonable gloominefs, and difturbs other more 
 important affairs. Yes, the furprize of a great 
 misfortune oppreffes me, and the repot t of Agne- 
 fa's death has fo ftrong a right in my forrow, as 
 abfolutely excludes all other concerns. 
 
 D. Alvarez. This m?.y be falfe news, madam; 
 but my return carries a difmal piece of news to the 
 prince. 
 
 Elvira. The utmoft torment ho can fufFer is 
 fhort of what he deferves. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 ELVIRA, ELIZA. 
 ELIZA. 
 
 WAITED his departure, madam, to tell you 
 fomething thr.t will revive you again, fince 
 you \\.ill this moment be perfectly informed where 
 Agntfa is. -For this purpofe a certain perfon un- 
 knowr, has fent one of his fervants to defire au- 
 dience .of you. .
 
 OF NAVARRE. 77 
 
 Elvira. Defire him to come immediately, Eli- 
 za; it is proper I mould fee him. 
 
 E'i/a. But he begs that nobody may fee him 
 but yourfelf. 
 
 Elvira. Well, we fliall be alone. I will give 
 orders about that, while you introduce him. How 
 great is my dcfire to knew what news he brings! 
 Whether, O heavens ! do you fend me joy or grief? 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 D. PEDRO, E L I Z A.- 
 
 WHERE 
 D. Pedro. Here am I, madam, if you 
 mean me. 
 
 Eliza. Where was your mafter when 
 
 D. Pedro. He is hard by; fliall I tell him to 
 come ? 
 
 ELiza. Yes; tell him that he is impatiently ex- 
 peted, and fliall not be feen by any body, [alone.] 
 There is fome myftery in thefe precautions that I 
 cannot penetrate. But here he comes. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 AGNESA in a man's habit, ELIZA. 
 
 ELIZA. 
 
 WE have prepared, my lord Butwhat do I 
 fee? Ah ! madam, do I really behold 
 Agnefa. Do not difcover me, Eliza, but let my 
 fad defliny take vent under the fiction of having 
 been my own murderer. This feigned death is 
 D 3
 
 7# 3ONGA-RCIA 
 
 what has delivered me from all my tyrants; fcr 
 under that name I may comprehend my relations, 
 I have thereby avoided the hateful mutch, which 
 rather than have confented to, I would have fuf- 
 fered a real death. Under this difguife, and the 
 report of my death, I lha!l keep my fate a fecret, 
 and fecure myfelf from that unjufr, perfecution 
 which may follow me even to this place. 
 
 Eliza. Myaftcnifhment might havebetrayed you 
 in public; but go into the clofet there, and dry up 
 the tears of the princefs. You will find her there 
 alone: me has been very cautious in putting away 
 all witneffes. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 D. A L V A R E Z, E L I 2 A. 
 ELIZA. 
 
 IS not this Don Alvarez I behold? 
 D. Alvarez. The prince fends me to you, to 
 beg that you would make ufe of your utmoft en- 
 deavours to procure him a moment's, converfation 
 with Elvira. He canot live unlefs you favour 
 him but here he comes. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 , B. GAR6IA, D. ALVAREZ, ELIZA. 
 D. GARCIA. 
 
 ALAS! Eliza, pity my misfortunes, which 
 weigh me down to the earth. 
 Eliza. I mould regard your torments, my lord, 
 with other eyes than the princefs does* but he?.-
 
 O F N A V A R R E. 79 
 
 veil has ib ordained it, that every one's opinion of 
 things is quite different. And fince (lie blames 
 you, and fancies your jealoufy to be a deformed 
 monfter, I would be complaifant, and endeavour 
 to conceal from her eyes what might be difagree- 
 ablc to them. A lover undoubtedly follows an 
 ufeful method when he endeavours to accommo- 
 date his huiv.our to ours ; an hundred devoirs do 
 Icfs good than this one thing, for nothing is fo 
 much efleerned by us as what refembles ourfelves. 
 
 D. Garcia. I know it, but, al.-.s! the inhuman 
 deftiniesoppofe themfdvcs to fuch -well advifed de- 
 igns, and notwithstanding all my endeavours, are 
 continually laying fjiarcs for me, which I cannot 
 avoid. Not but t:r.it the ungrateful woman did, 
 iu the prefence of my rival, make a too fatr.l con- 
 feflioa agatnA my ir.tcrcil, and tcitified for him fd 
 much' tendernefs, that.it was irnpoflible forme ever 
 to forget if; but in Hrr-rt, having too haftily believ- 
 ed that (he hail introduced him into the place, I 
 fhould be very much difjatisfied to. leave upon her 
 mind any juft cauie of which (lie might complain 
 againft me. Yes, if I nm abMidoned, it fliall be 
 only owing to the infidelity of herfelf; for I re- 
 folved, by excufing niyfelf, ami begging her par- 
 , don, not to leave her ingratitude the lead pretence. 
 
 Eliz.i. Give a little time to her refentment be-- 
 fore yon fee her, my lord. - 
 
 D. Gracia. Ah! if thou loved me let me fee 
 her; it is a liberty that mud be granted me: I 
 cannot dir till her cruel difdain at lead 
 
 Eliza. Pray, my lord, 'defer it a little. 
 
 D. Garcia. Do not trifle with me any longer. 
 
 EJiza afide.] I find the princefs herfelf mud fend 
 D 4
 
 80 DON GARCIA 
 
 him away. [To Don Garcia.] Stay here, mY 
 lord, I will go and fpeak to her. 
 
 D. Garcia. Tell hcrthat I kept theperfon whofe 
 information was the occafion of the oftence no long- 
 er in my fervice, but immediately turned him a- 
 way, and that Don Lopez fnall never 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 D.. GARCIA, D-. ALVAREZ. 
 
 r>. GARCIA looking in at the door which Eliza 
 left open. 
 
 GOOD heaven! what is this I fee? may I 
 r believe my own eyes? Alas! they are but 
 too faithful witnefles. Now my mifery is compleat. 
 This fatal blow fully makes my deftru&ion appear, 
 and when I found my felf difturbed with fufpicions, 
 it was heaven that with mute threats foretold this 
 horrible difgrace. 
 
 D. Alvarez. My lord, what have you feen that 
 difturbs you fo much ? 
 
 D. Garcia. I have feen what I can hardly be- 
 lieve; 1 would be lefs furprized at the overthrow 
 of all nature than at this accident. It is done 
 Fate I cannot fpeak 
 
 D. Alvarez. My lord, endeavour to compofe 
 yourfelf. 
 
 D. Garcia. 1 have feen Vengeance r O heaven ! 
 
 D. Alvarez. "What fudden alarm 
 
 D. Garcia. It will kill me, D. Alvarez, the thing 
 is certain. 
 
 D. Alvarez. But, my lord, what can 
 
 D. Garcia. Alas! all is over, I am betrayed; I
 
 OF NAVARRE. 8l 
 
 am murdered: a man can I fpeak it without dy- 
 ing? a man in the arms of my treacherous Elvira*. 
 
 D. Alvarez. The princefs, my lord, is fo vir- 
 tuous that 
 
 D. Gracia. Oppofe me not, Don Alvarez, af- 
 ter what I have feen. It is too much to defend 
 her after I have beheld fo black an action. 
 
 D. Alvarez. Our paffions, my lord, frequent- 
 ly make us miflake a deceiving objecl: for a true 
 one, and fo think that a virtuous foul can 
 
 D. Garcia. Prithee leave me, Don Alvarez, a 
 counfellor is cffenfive upon this occafion; nothing 
 fhail advife me but my paffion. 
 
 D. Alvarez. There is no arguing with him ia 
 this condition. [Afide.3 
 
 D. Garcia. O cruel wound! but I will fee who 
 
 it is, and puniOi with my hand But fee, flie is 
 
 coming, cannot thou contain thyfelf, my rage? 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 ELVIRA, D. GARCIA, D. ALVAREZ. 
 ELVIRA. 
 
 WELL, what would you have? and what 
 hopes can your boldnefs flatter itfelf with 
 after luch proceedings? Can you have the affurance 
 to appear again before me? and what can you fay 
 that will become me to hear? 
 
 D. Garcia. I fay, that all the wickednefs of the 
 damned is not fo bad as your difloyalty; that clef- 
 tiny, the devils, nor heaven in it's wrath never pro- 
 duced any thing fo wicked as you are. 
 
 Elvira. What ia the meaning of this? I expect- 
 D 5'
 
 32 DO'N GARCIA" 
 
 ed an excufc for an affront, but I find I am de- 
 ceived. 
 
 D. Garcia. Yes, you are deceived. You did 
 not 'think that by the accident of the door being o- 
 pcn I faw the traitor in your arms, and beheld your 
 fhame and my own ruin. Is it the happy lover 
 returned? or fome other rival whom I know no- 
 thing of? Strengthen me, O heaven, to bear the 
 racking torture! Nov/ bluili, for you have reafon; 
 the malic of your treachery is now laid afide. This 
 is what the difturbances of my foul fo frequently 
 intimated; it was not without any juft reafon that 
 my flame was alarmed; my well-grounded fufpi- 
 tions were feeking what now my eyes have met 
 with. But think not that I will bear this affront 
 unrevenged. I know that we Rave no power o- 
 verour defires, and that love will every where grow 
 without dependance; that there is no forcibly en- 
 tering into an heart, and that every foul is free to 
 name it's conqueror; and therefore I fhould have 
 no reafon to complain of you, if you had houeftly 
 exprefledyourfeli to me at firft, and my heart would 
 have laid all the blame upon fate alone; but to fee 
 my fiame approved by a falfe and hypocritical con- 
 fdfion, is fuch a piece of trtachery, fuch a bafe ac- 
 tion, that it can never be fuffieiently punifhed- 
 No, no, after fuch an infult, hope for nothing; I 
 am net royfelf, I am all rage; being betrayed on 
 every fide,, my love muft revenge itfelf to the pur- 
 pofe; 1 muft, 1 muft facrrnce every thing to my 
 rage, and put a peiiod to my days and defpair t 
 once. 
 
 Elvira. Since I have been fo patient to all you 
 "kavefaid, I hope I may new take the liberty to fpeak.
 
 OF NAVARRE. 83 
 
 D. Garcia. And pray by what florid difccurfe, 
 what artful fpecch 
 
 Elvira. If you have any thing farther to fay to 
 me, you may add it, I am ready to hear, it ; if not, 
 I hope you will pay a little attention to me. 
 
 D. Garcia. Well, then, I attend: ye heavens, 
 what patience is mine! 
 
 Elvira. I bridle my wrath, and will, without the 
 h-aft anger, anfwer your mad difcourfe. 
 
 D. Garcia. You will perhaps. 
 
 Elvira. I have liftened to you as long as you 
 pleafed; pray do the fame to me- lam aftonim- 
 ed at my dcftiny, and I believe there never was a- 
 ny thing upon earth ib prodigious as it is; ^nothing . 
 more inconceivable for it's novelty, and nothing 
 lefs fupportable with refpecl to reafon. I have a 
 lover who makes it his w.hole ftudy to persecute me, 
 who arnidfl all the amorous exprefiions of his 
 mouth, has noeueem for me in his heart; nothing 
 thr.t can do juftice to the blood I fprung from, no- 
 thing that can defend the innocence of my actions 
 again ft the leaft fhadcw .of a falfe appearance. 
 Yes, I fee [Don Garcia feems defirous of fpeak- 
 ing.] Do not interrupt me I fee, I fay, my tin- 
 happinefs carried to that pitch, that one who fays 
 he loves me, and would make me believe. that he 
 would defend my reputation againft the whole fuf- 
 petting univerfe, is he that is the greateft enemy 
 to it. He fufperfts me on every occafion; he not 
 only does fo, but, what wounds love, he makes n, 
 noife of it. Infteacl of acting like a lover, who . 
 had rather die than o.Tcnd what he loves, who calm- 
 ly bemoans himfelf, and feeks with refpcr. to hare 
 his doubts fatisfied; he proceeds to extremities, 
 and is all rage, tnveftives, threats'. Bitt I will now 
 D 6
 
 84 DONGARCIA 
 
 fhut my eyes to e^ery thing that may render him 
 defpicable to me, and by an al of mere goodnefs, 
 will make this frefh affront an occafion of his fu- 
 ture quiet. Your great rage proceeds from what 
 you faw by mere chance j I mould be in the wrong 
 to contradidl your fight, and I own you might have 
 fome reafonto be uneafy at it. 
 
 D. Garcia. Is it not therefore 
 
 Elvira. Stop a little, and you wil] know what I 
 am refolved to do. It is neceflary that the fates 
 of both of us fhould be accomplished: you are now 
 upon the brink of a mighty precipice, and you will 
 either mifciirry or efcape, according to the courfe 
 you fhall now take. If, prince, regardlefs of what 
 you have feen, you act towards me as you ought, 
 and require no other proof but me, to condemn the 
 error of your uneafinefs; if by a ready compliance 
 of your fentiments, you are willing to believe me 
 innocent upon my word alone, and laying afide all 
 your fufpicions, blindly believe what I tell you ; 
 this fubmiffion, this mark of efteem mall cancel, 
 in rny bread, all your paft mifbehaviour; I inftant- 
 ly recede from that indignation which I havejuft- 
 lv declared againft you: and I can hereafter chufe 
 my own lot, without prejudicing what I owe to my 
 birth ; my honour, being content with this ready 
 obedience, promifes to your love both my heart 
 and my hand 5 but remember what I am going to 
 tell you-, if this offer I now make you has fo lit- 
 tle prevalence with you, as net to obtain an entire 
 facrifice of your jealous fufpicions; if what fecu- 
 ritv my heart and birth can afford is not fufficient; 
 and if the powerful umbrages of your fpirit force 
 me to convince your fenfes, and to produce an e- 
 vident proof of my offended virtue, I am ready to
 
 OFNAVARRE. # 
 
 do it, and will fatisfy you ; but you rauft depart 
 from me that moment, and never more have any 
 pretentionsto me; and I take the Almighty Judge 
 of heaven and earth to witnefs, that, whate- 
 ver we are deflined to, I will fooner chufe to put 
 a period to my days than to be yours. Make your 
 choice of thefe two propofals ; fatisfy yourfelf, and 
 I fliall be fatisfied. 
 
 D.Garcia. Good gods! was ever any thing in- 
 vented with more artifice and diiloyalty? Has all 
 that the malice of hell ever ftudied any thing fo 
 horrid as this perfidy? Could a more cruel me- 
 thod be found out to perplex a lover? Ah! how 
 well you know to employ my own weaknefs againfl 
 me! and to manage for yourfclf the furprifing 
 ftrength of that fatal love which your traitorous eyes 
 gave birth to! Becaufe (he is furprized, and can- 
 not excufe herfelf, flie cunningly offers me a par- 
 don. Her difTembled gentlenefs forges an amufe- 
 ment to divert the elTel of my wrath; and by 
 means of the intricate knot of an eledlion, would 
 ward off the blow that threatens a villainous trai- 
 tor. Yes, madam, your artifices would gladly de- 
 prive me of that infight which would condemn you ; 
 and your foul, pretending to be quite innocent, re- 
 fufes to demonftrate itfelf fully, but upon fnch con- 
 ditions, you think, as I will never accept; but you 
 are deceived if you think to furprize me. Yes, 
 yer,, I am refclved to fee what you have to cltfet>d 
 yourfelf by; and what prodigy can juftify what I 
 have fecn, and condemn my indignation. 
 
 Elvira. Remember that by this choice you cut 
 off all pretenficns to the heart of Donna Elvira. 
 
 D. Garcia. Be it fo, I agree to it all: in the 
 condition I am in I pretend to nothing farther.
 
 St> DON CAR CIA 
 
 Elvira. You .will repeat of the noife y;ru have 
 made. 
 
 D. Garcia. No, no, the ft- are fcolim ftorics, 
 and I ought rather to toll you that fome-body tlfe 
 may fooh repent of it. The traitor, whoever he 
 be, (hall' find it not caCy to efc?pe my rage with his 
 life. 
 
 Elvira. This is too much, it cannot be born, my 
 irritated heart can no longer prefer ve it's foolifh 
 good nature. Let us leave the ungrateful villain 
 to his caprice; and fince he will periih, let him. 
 Eliza. [To Don Garcia.] You will force rnc to 
 this difcoverv, hut I will 'let you fc'o fhc affront YOU 
 put upon m j. 
 
 SCENE IX; 
 
 E L V I R A, D. G'A R C ! A, E L I Z A. 
 
 TEI L the lovely perfcn to come forth Go, 
 yoi; know my meaning, defirc it as from me. 
 
 D.Garcia. And can I 
 
 Elvira. Patience, you ihail be fati.sfied. 
 
 Eliza afide going out.] Without doubt this is 
 fome new touch of jealouiV. 
 
 Elvira. Take care at leafl that this noble indig- 
 nation of yours psrfevercs to the end; and above 
 all, think well for the future at \vhat p: ice you would 
 needs have your fufp.icions cleared up.
 
 Or NAVARRE, 87 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 ELVIRA, D. GARCIA, ACNESA, ELI- 
 ZA, D. ALVAREZ. 
 
 ELVIRA to D. Garcia, fhewing him Agnefa. 
 HERE, thanks to-heaven* is what occafion- 
 ecl your obliging fufpicions: behold that 
 face, and fee if you do notobferve the features of 
 Donna Agnefa. 
 
 D. Garcia. O heavens! 
 
 Elvira. If the rage which difturbs your foul docs 
 at the fame time hinder your fight; you have other 
 eyes to confult which will leave you no room to 
 doubt. Her death was a neceiiary piece of ciaf- 
 tinefs invented to avoid the authority of one who 
 perfecuted her, and under this difguife (he con- 
 cealed herfelf, the better to enjoy the fruit of 
 her feigned death. [To Agnefa.] ' You will for- 
 give me, madam, if I have been forced to betray 
 your fecrets, and al contrary to your expectation. 
 His temerity is fo very great that he deprives my 
 actions of all manner of liberty, and my honour, 
 urged by his fufpicions, is conftantly reduced to a 
 necefiity of defending itfelf. Our embracing each 
 other, which this jealous man accidentally faw, has 
 made him wr-ak hi; indignation on me. This 
 was the reafon of his rage and my difgraee. [To 
 D. Garcia.] Now, like an abfolute tyrant, enjoy 
 the difcovery you would needs make. But know 
 that 1 will never blot from rny memory the bafe 
 infult you have been guilty of. And if ever I for- 
 get my oaths, may heaven pour it's fevered chaf- 
 tifcrnonts upon my head; may a thunderbolt re-
 
 88 DON GARCIA 
 
 duce me to afhes when I refolve to admit your 
 love. Come, madam, let us depa./t, and avoid 
 this furious monflerj let us fly from his infecti- 
 ous looks and the eiTetts of his rage, and think of 
 nothing elf; but how to free ourfelves from hi,, hands. 
 Agnefa to D. Garcia.] Even virtue itfelf, my 
 lord, has been wronged by the unjufc violence of 
 your fufpicions. 
 
 SCENE XI. 
 
 D. GARCIA, D. ALVAREZ. 
 D . GARCIA. 
 
 HAT a cruel gleam of light difllpates 
 mymiflake, and at the fame time involves 
 my fenfes in fo profound an horror, that I can per- 
 ceive nothing but the difmal object of a remorfe 
 thst kills me! Ah! Den Alvarez, I fee you were 
 in the right ; but hell has breathed it's curfed ve- 
 nom into my foul, and by a fatal ftroke of extreme 
 rigour, my greateft enemy is within myfelf. To 
 what end is it to love with the moft ardent paflion 
 thi:t ever a confumed foul cifcovered, if by reafon 
 of it's tranfports, with which J am fo much tor- 
 mented, that love continually renders itfelf hate- 
 worthy? I muft, I muft revenge with my jufi 
 death, the offence I have committed againft her 
 heavenly charms: what counfel can I follow! A- 
 las! I have loft the objet for which alone life was 
 defur.ble; If I were able to renounce the hope of 
 enjoying her, I can much more renounce life itfelf. 
 
 D. Alvarez. My lord 
 
 D. Garcia. No, Don Alvarez, my death is 
 ucctlfcrv; no endeavours {hall turn me from it;
 
 OF NAVARRE. 8$ 
 
 but at the fame time I muit do fome fignal fervice 
 to Elvira. For this end, I will feek fome glorious 
 means of ending my clays, fo that when I expire 
 for her me may pity me, and fay that my too great 
 Jove was the occafion of my offending her. My. 
 hand muft hy a bold attempt give the death due 
 to Moorgat, and boldly prevent the blow thatCaf- 
 tile threatens him with: thus, in my death, I fhall 
 have the happinefs of fnatching fo great a glory from 
 my rival's hopes. 
 
 D. Alvarez. A piece of fuch valuable fervice, 
 my lord, may well make your offence be forgot, 
 but to hazard - 
 
 D. Garcia. Let me go then, that I may make 
 my defpair fubfervient to this glorious attempt, by 
 the performance of a juft duty. 
 
 ACTV. SCENE I. 
 
 D. ALVAREZ, ELIZA. 
 D. ALVAREZ. 
 
 MY mafter Don Garcia has formed a defigjx, 
 the like of which was never heard of; defpair 
 put him upon anew refolution, which was to go and 
 facrifice Moorgat, avTuringhimfelf fuccefs, and hop- 
 ing in his death to find a pardon, and prevent the mor- 
 tification of beholding his rivalafharerof that glory. 
 As he was going out of thefe gates, unhappy ti- 
 dings came to him, that that rival had already ob- 
 tained the honour he was going to match from him, 
 andhad facrificed the traitor. In reward for which 
 fervice it is publicly faid that Don Alphonfo in- 
 tends to give him his filter in marriage; which ia
 
 9^ r> O -N . G A R C I A-- 
 
 not incredible, fmce it was he that opeae 1 ; 
 way to the throne. . 
 
 Eliza. Yes, Elvira has heard this news, and has 
 alfo had it confirmed, by Don Lou is, -who writes her 
 word, that Leon is now waiting for the happy re- 
 turn of her and Den Alphonfo, and that Hie is there 
 to receive a fortunate turn-, an hufband from the 
 hands of her brother. It is plain enough from 
 thefe words of his letter thai Don Silvio is the huf- 
 band me is to have. 
 
 X). Alvarez. This blow to the prince's heart 
 
 Eliza. Will. without doubt- ftrike rieep: I can- 
 not help pitying his diftrefs, and yet, if I have 
 any judgment, he has flijl a very good intereffi in 
 her he has injured. I cannot find, notwithffond- 
 ing the fuccefs which is boafted of, that the prin- 
 cefs fhewed very great fatisfattion at the news of 
 her brother's coming, or with the letter - : but . 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 ELVIRA, AGNESA, ELIZA, D. ALVAREZ. 
 ELVIRA. 
 
 DON Alvarez, tell the prince to ccm-e hither. 
 Allow me, madam, to fpesk to him in youi 
 presence concerning, this accident which furprizes 
 my foul; and do not accufe me of too hafty a 
 change, if I lay aficle my refentment againft him. 
 His unforefeen misfortune has extinguished it. He 
 is miferable enough, without the addition of my 
 hatred. Htaven, who thus rigoroufiy treats him, 
 has but too well executed the or.ths I have irfatle. 
 I was obliged by the fentence of offended honour, 
 never to be bis ; but fmce I fee fate is too fevere
 
 O F N A V A R a 2'. 9! 
 
 to his love, the ill fuccefs of what he docs in 
 my favour cancels the offence, and reflores him my 
 companion. Yes, fuch rough blows have fevercljr 
 revenged me, difarmed my indignation, and now, 
 by a compaiTionate care, I am feeking to comfoit 
 the misfortunes of a wretched lover j and I believe 
 his flame has well defeived that companion I would 
 fhew. 
 
 Agnefa. Madam, they would be in the wrong 
 who mould 'blame the tender fenriments you are 
 infpired with, what he has done for you he comes, 
 and how much he is aftonifhed whh this amazing 
 ftroke plainly appears by the palenefs of his face. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 D. GARCIA, ELVIRA, AGNESA, ELIZA, 
 D. GARCIA. 
 
 HO W muft I appear before you, madam', 
 whom I have 
 
 Elvira. No more of tht, Don Garcia; your 
 deftiny has made a change in my heart; and con- 
 fidering the difmal condition its rigour has thrown 
 you in, my wrath is appeafed, and your peace is 
 made. Yes, though you have deferved what hea>- 
 ven has afflicted you with, though your jealous fti- 
 fpicions have fullied my fame with moft incredible 
 indignities, yet I cannot but own that I pity your 
 misfortune to. that degree as to be fomewhat dif- 
 pleafed with our fuccefs. I defpife the favours of 
 that fervice, when my heart mutt be facrificed to 
 reward it, and I could wifh it were in my power 
 to redeem the moments when deftiny made me 
 curfc you fo much. But in fliprt, you know that
 
 92 DON GARCIA 
 
 it is the fate of fuch as we, to be ever chained 
 down to the public interefts, and that heaven has 
 ordained that the brother, who is concerned in the 
 difpofal of rny hand, is alfo my fovereign. Yield 
 as I do, prince, to this .violence, to which thofe of 
 my birth are fubjet; and if the uneafineffes of 
 your love be great, let it comfort itfelf with the 
 {hare that I have therein, and not make ufe of the 
 power which your valour gives you in this place 
 againft this furprizing ftroke; it would undoubt- 
 edly be an aft unworthy of you to druggie againft 
 fate ; and when it is to no purpofe to oppofe one's 
 felf to its rage, a ready fubmiffion fhews a great- 
 nefs of foul. Therefore make no refiftance, but 
 fet wide the gates of Aftorga to my brother, who 
 is coming j let me render'him thofe -rights which 
 he has a pretence to from me, and which I am re- 
 folved not to fail in ; and perhaps that fatal ho- 
 mage which, contrary to my inclination, I offer 
 him, may not go fo far as you think. 
 
 D. Garcia. You are too good, madam, in endea- 
 vouring to fweeten the bitter draught that is pre- 
 pared for me; you may, without any fiich relc- 
 tance, fuffer the cruel thunder of your whole duty 
 to fall on me. I have nothing to fay, in the con- 
 dition I am in, to you. The moft fevere punifh- 
 ments which have been invented are not too fevere 
 for me ; and I know that I mould be in the wrong 
 to murmur at any thing that may befal me. Alas! 
 in what manner could I authorize the boldnefs 
 of the leaft complaint againft you? my love has 
 mimberlefs times been guilty of outrages, and ren- 
 dered itfelf hateful to you, and when, by a jufl fa- 
 crifice, my arm was preparing to do fome fervice 
 to your family, my ftars abandoned me, and made
 
 O F N A V A R R E. 93 
 
 me tafte the bitter grief of being prevented by my 
 rival's arm. After this, madam, lean pretend to 
 nothing, I deferve the blow which I expect, and I 
 fee it coming, without daring to tempt the favour- 
 able aid of your heart againft it. What remains 
 for me in this my utmoft infelicity, is to feek a re- 
 medy in myfelf ; and by a death propitious to my 
 \vifhes deliver my troubled heart from all its woes. 
 Yes, Don Alphonfo will foon be in this place, and 
 my rival already begins to appesr. He feems to 
 have ilown hither from Leon, to receive the re 
 compence of a facririced tyrant. Fear not that a- 
 ny refinance fhall fliew the power 'I have here; 
 there is no human force which I would not defy 
 for your fafety, if you gave me your confent to do 
 it; but I dare not prefume to expect that glorious 
 confent, I who needs muft appear fo defpicable to 
 you, and I would not, by vain efforts, throw the 
 lenfl obftacle in the way of your juft defigns. No, 
 madam, I do not in the lead conftrain your fenti- 
 r.icnts; I will leave you in full liberty, I will o- 
 pen the gates of Aftorga to that victorious happy 
 priii-cc, and patiently undergo the laft cruelty of 
 my fate. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 ELVIRA, AGNES A, ELIZA. 
 ELVIRA. 
 
 IMAGINE not, madam, that the defpair which 
 his deftiny expofes him to is the occaiion of 
 my uneafinefs. You will be juft to me, if .you 
 believe that your intereft has no final! fhare in the
 
 "94 DONCARCI A 
 
 grief with which my heart is difturbed. I am no 
 Icfs fenfible of friemlfuip than of love, and if I 
 complain of any dire difgrace, it is that the dread- 
 ful wrath of heaven has from me borrowed thofe 
 fhafts it lances againfl you, and has rendered my- 
 eyes guilty of aflame which gives unworthy treat- 
 ment to the goodnefs of your heart. 
 
 Agnefa. This, madam, is an accident which 
 your eyes ought not to be angry with heaven for. 
 If my weak attractions have cxpofed me to the ill 
 fortune of having to do with an inconftant, heaven 
 could not better alleviate that misfortune, than by 
 making ufe of you to deprive me of that heart; I 
 ought not at all to be aihamed of an inconftancy 
 which demonftrates the difference between your 
 attractions and mine. If I figh for this change, jit 
 is becaufe i forefee it fatal to your wifhes, and in 
 this grief which my friendfhip excites in me, I 
 blame. -my want of merit in your behalf, not being 
 ab]e to retain an heart, the image whereof fo much 
 difturbs your defires. 
 
 Elvira. Rather accufe yourfelf of that unjuft fi- 
 {qnce^which has concealed the undemanding there 
 was between you two; this fecret, had it been foon- 
 er known, might, perhaps, have fpared both of us 
 thefe uneafy troubles, and my juft coldnefs toward 
 him might, in their 'birth, have ftifled the defires 
 of a rover, and fent back 
 
 Agnefa. Madam, he is coming. 
 
 Elvira. You may remain here, without looking 
 at him Do not go away, madam, but flay, and 
 be a witnefs to what I (hall fay to him. 
 
 Alicia. I confent, madam, yet I very well know, 
 that were another in my place they would avoid 
 fuch a converfation.
 
 O V N A V A R U ; . , 95 
 
 yjvir.i. You will not have the lead reafcn to be 
 iorry at it, madam, if L'.AC gods feccnd mv wishes, 
 -I aflure you. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 A L P H O N S O, ELVIRA, A G N E S A. 
 ELVIRA. 
 
 I Beg, my lord, that you would attend to what! 
 am going to lay, before you fpeak. Fame has 
 already brought to our ears the news of your vic- 
 torious achievements, and I admire, as all do, at 
 the fpeedy and happy turn which they have given 
 to our dcftiny. I know very well that a fervice 
 of fo much importance can never receive a reward 
 adequate to its dcferts, and that every thing is due 
 to you for the immortal exploits which replaces my 
 brother on the throne of his anceftors. But tho' 
 he offers you the homages of his heart, make a ge- 
 nerous ufe of your advantages; and fuffer not, my 
 lord, this glorious blow to bring me under an im- 
 perious yoke. Do not allow your love, which 
 knows what intereft I efpoufe, obftinately to tri- 
 umph over a juft rcfufal. Do not permit my bro- 
 ther to begin his reign by an at of tyranny over 
 his filler: Lc m has abundance of rewards, which 
 may uo more honour to your high valour; an heart 
 forcibly given you, would be too mean a prefent 
 for your virtues. Can a man ever be fatisfied in 
 himlelf when, by -conftra-nt, he obtains what he 
 lover,? it is a woful advantage, and a generous lo- 
 ver cliulains to be happy upon fuch conditions. He 
 v/iil ii;.'t owe any tiling to that violence which the 
 ri^lit of biith excrciics over our hearts, and is ai-
 
 96 DON GARCIA 
 
 'v/ays too zealous for the object he loves, ever' to 
 fatter it to be facrificed to it as a viclim. Not that 
 this heart of mine intends to referve that for ano- 
 ther's merit, which it refufes to yours. No, my 
 lord, I will -p romife you no perfon {hall ever have 
 power over me, a facred retreat fhall to every other 
 purfuit 
 
 D. Alphonfo. Madam, I have been very atten- 
 tive to all that you have faid, and would, by two 
 words, have prevented it all, if your falfe alarm had 
 prevailed lefs over you. I know that a common 
 report which is generally believed, afcribes to me 
 the glory of having {lain the tyrant, but in fhort, 
 the people alone, as we are informed, being flirred 
 up by Don Louis to do their duty, bore away the 
 honour of that heroic at, which I was reported to 
 be the author of. The c?.ufe of which was this: Don 
 Louis, the better to carry on his noble defigns, had 
 cnufed it to be reported, that I and my men had 
 feized the city, and by this news he pufhed on the 
 people to cut oli' the ufurper as foon as poflible. 
 He knew how to conduct the whole by his pru j 
 tience and zeal, and has juft now fent one of his 
 fervatits to inform me of the whole affair. But at 
 the fame time reveals me a fecret, at which I dare 
 fay you will be as much furprized as I wrs. You 
 expet a brother, and Leon its true mafter, and 
 now\heaven prefents him to your eyes. Yes, I am 
 Don Alphonfo, and being preferved and bred up 
 under the name of the Prince of Cailile, a man il- 
 luftrious eilet of that fmcere friendfliip, which was 
 between Don Louis and the king my father. Don 
 Loris has all the proofs of this fecret, and will dif- 
 play the truth of it to every body; and now my 
 thoughts are taken up with other cares; not that 

 
 O J N A V A R R E. $J 
 
 they are crofied with refpexft to your love, that my 
 pafTion quarrels \vith fuch a difcovery, and that the 
 brother, in my heart, is troublefome to the lover. 
 My flame -has received, without the leaft murmur, 
 from this fecret, the change which nature pre- 
 fcribes to it, and the blood which conjoins us has 
 fo entirely detached me from the affection for you 
 with which my heart was touched, that it now 
 longs for nothing fo much as the pleafmg tran- 
 fports of its firft chain, and the means of rendering 
 to the amiable Agncfa that which her e-xcefliye 
 goodntfs has defervtd. But her uncertain dcfuny 
 remlers mine mifeiTible, and if all be true that ic, 
 laid, in vain docs Leon invite me, in vain docs a 
 throne wait for me; it is not in the power of a 
 throne to make me happy; it has no other charms 
 to me, than as it would let me tafte the joy of 
 placing it on that object that heaven has recalled 
 me to, and by that means to repair, as much as 
 poilible, the injury I have done her noble virtues. 
 It is from you, madam, 1 have rcafon to expect to 
 be infoimed what has become of her. Pray in- 
 flruct me in it, and by your difcourfe cither ren- 
 der me for ever happy, or miferable. 
 
 Llvira. Be not furprizcd if I delay anfwcring 
 you; lor this newsj my lord, confounds me. I 
 will not take upon me to fay whether Agnefa be 
 dead or alive, but this gentleman here, than whom 
 me cannot have a more faithful friend, wi.l give 
 you fuch information as you may depend upon. 
 
 D. Alphonfo knowing Agnefa.] Ah! madam, 
 how happy am I in thefe perplexities to fee the 
 gleaming of your heavenly charms! But with 
 what eye can you behold an inconftant, whoL 
 crime 
 
 VOL. II. E
 
 <>8 D O N G A R C I A 
 
 .Agnefa. Ah! fay not that a heart which I e- 
 ilecm couki be inconftant. I cannot bear the 
 thought, and the excufe troubles me. Nothing 
 could offend me, fmce you loved this princefs, be- 
 cauic her high merit is a fufficient excufe for any 
 ardour 'fhc might caufe. The love you bore her 
 does not make you in any wife guilty with refpec"! 
 to me; but had it been ctherwife, know that you 
 would in vain endeavour to make me forget fuch 
 an affront^ and that no force, no repentance fhould 
 be able to cancel it in my heart. 
 
 Elvira. Ah ! dear brother, the joy you give me 
 is infinite, I love your choice, and blefs the acci- 
 dent \ t hch caufes you to crown fo pure a friend- 
 iliip, and of two noble hearts that I dearly love 
 
 SCENE T II E L A S T. 
 
 D. C A R C I A, E L V I R A, A G N E S A, D. 
 ALPHONSO, ELIZA. 
 
 P. GARCIA. 
 
 LET me net beho!d, rr.ac!arr>, vcr.r great con- 
 tentment, but fufFcr ir.e to ric in full per- 
 iuafion that your duty is \\hat commits fome vio- 
 lence upon you. I know you have it in your pow- 
 er to difpcfe of ycurl" lu -,;::d I do not d-efire to cp- 
 pcfe your incli-natirns; I am all obedience. l?ut 
 1 mu(i cwnyour gaiety amszcs rr.c, and frakes my 
 refolution. It tranfpcrts me fo much, that I am 
 afraid I fhall not be able to comirand. I v.-culd 
 punifli :r,yfelf if it xvould depriv-e me of that fub- 
 mifTivc rcfpecl:, W!MC!I is owing to \ou. Yes, your 
 commr.iuis \\\\c rn:de n-c bear patiently' the ir.ife- 
 ry cf my love; thcv are fo powerful, thr.t I \vcuM
 
 OF NAVARRE. 99 
 
 ,,,iiia- die than difobey them. Still I am (hocked 
 t>r your prcknt joy, and cannot fee it without con- 
 cern -, the mofl prudent people cannot anfwcr for 
 thtir conduct on fuch occafions. I beg you may 
 for a moment fupprefs your joy, and fliew fome 
 coajpaffion for my misfortune. I cannot bear to 
 fee the happinefs of a rival. I think thi:> the fmall- 
 e!i favour I can afic, as my difgrace gives place to 
 another lover. I do not defire it, madam, for a 
 long time. My abfcnee will fatisfy your wiilie:;, 
 I (hall go where I (hall ouly hear the account o 
 your marriage by report, which will induce me to 
 haflcn the end cf an unhappy life. 
 
 Agnefa. Suffer m?, my lord, to blame your 
 complaining, a3 the princds lias ceinpalnon for 
 your misfortunes. The joyat which you aredif- 
 pleafed arifcs intirely from the good which is pre- 
 pared for yen. Your profperity gives her plea-, 
 lure, and the has found in your rival a brother. 
 The fecret is jufl now difeovered; this is Don Al- 
 phonie, who has been fo much tulked of. 
 
 D. Alphr.r.fe. Thank heaven, my heart has all 
 that it dciirer, after a long fuffering, without a- 
 bridging your happinef-;, and has the greater plea- 
 fure from being able to afiift your love. 
 
 D. Garcia. Your exceffive goochiefs, my lord, 
 in offering to bear apart in my willies, confounds 
 me: heaven has diverted the {Irojce I dreaded, and 
 any other perfcn would imagine himfelf happy. 
 But the lucky difcovery of this pleafing fecret 
 makes me blaraeable towards the adorable cbjedl 
 of my love; having fallen ngain into thefe tre-ach- 
 eious fufpicions, which I have been fo often warn- 
 ed of to no purpolV, I fliould defp^ir of ever be- 
 hig harpy. I defervc her hatred, and c!o net 
 
 r: 4
 
 100 DON G A R CPl A> ETC. 
 
 deferve a pardon ; whatever fuccefs fortune may 
 
 give me, 1 deferve death, and expedt it alone. 
 
 Elvira. No, no, prince, rny pity is moved bv 
 your -forrow and fubmtfTion. I can perceive yoiir 
 lincere love fhine through all your aclions; I fee 
 t-IiC weaknefs of my oaths; fince the influence of 
 the heaven's is the caufe of your defeats, \ve fhouJd 
 indulge them a little, and whether jealous or not, 
 my king may give^me to you without force. 
 
 D. Garcia. Good heavens, enable me to bear 
 the joy this confeffion gi-ves -me. 
 
 D. Alphonfo. I beg, my lord, that this marriage 
 may for ever join our hearts and kingdoms, after 
 sill our vain debates; but time preffes, and Leon 
 expects us, therefore let us go and chearfullyfatisfj 
 its zeal, and give the l.ifl itmke to the tyrant's par- 
 fy by our prefence. 
 
 n
 
 THE 
 
 SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 COMEDY.
 
 C 103 ] 
 
 The ScHOOL/i?r HUSBANDS, a Comedy of Three 
 slcts, acted c.t Paris, at the Theatre of the PA- 
 Lie t- Royal t June 2 4 /A, 1661. 
 
 Comedy of the .SCHOOL for HUSBANDS 
 is fo copious, fo polifli*d, and fo firr.ple, that 
 feu- pieces, cfpecially of three acl?, can be put in 
 competition with il; a frcfli incitLu'. appears in e- 
 vcry fccnc, which are r.;tfu!'y unfoliljci, and in- 
 fv-nf.bly had to one of the moll cxCvll'-fut c^taflrc- 
 f he's that ever appeared upon the French ftage.The 
 hint of this comedy is taken from the Adelphi of 
 Terence; In which two old men, of cppofite hu- 
 mours, one an uncle, and the ether a faiher, gave 
 a very different education, the cncto his nephew, 
 ;nd the other to his fon. In the SCHOOL for Hus- 
 BA,NDS are two guardians, one of an indulgent 
 temper, the other of a rigid one, each of whom are 
 intruded with the education of a young yirl. Mo- 
 Here has improved upon Terence, in giving to his 
 two characters not only the concern of fathers, but 
 of lovers alfo, an intereft fo rare and lively, that it 
 forms an entire new piece i:pcn the ancient poet's 
 fur pie plan.
 
 ACTORS. 
 
 SGANAREL,7 , 
 
 ( Brothers. 
 ARISTO, 3 
 
 ISABELLA, 7 _,... 
 LHOHORA, 5 S ' ft S - 
 VALE RE, Lover to Ifabella. 
 LISETTA, Leonora's Waiting "Woman. 
 ERGASTE, Valere's Footman. 
 A COMMISSARY. 
 
 A'NOTARY. 
 
 Two VALETS. 
 
 S C E N Ej a public place in Paris.
 
 THE 
 
 SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS 
 
 A C T I. S- C E N E I. 
 
 SGANAREL, A R I S T O. 
 
 SGANAREL. 
 
 ^h^MJML BEG we m-ay not talk fo much, brother, 
 J" 3| but let each ^ us ^ ve according to his 
 tjvr own manner of thinking; notwithftan- 
 ding you are older, and may be wifer v 
 I will not be reproved by you, my fancy alone fliall 
 direct me. 
 
 Arifto. But your manner of living is condemn, 
 ed by every body. 
 
 Sganarel. Yes, brother, by fools like yourfelf. 
 Arifto. I am obliged to you for this kind com- 
 pliment. 
 
 Sganarel. Since all muft be difcovcrcd, I would 
 gladly know what there is in me for thefe fine ca- 
 villers to find fault with. 
 
 Arifto. That morofe temper, which avoids all 
 pleafures of fociety, gives a Avhimfical air to all 
 E S
 
 106 THL SCHOOL 1-OR HUSBAND*, 
 
 your actions, and makes youiiJf :..;u cvciv tiling 
 
 about you appear barbarous. 
 
 SganareL Do you think I would make in\i,!' 
 a flave to fafhion? Certainly I fhould diefs niyfch 
 for my own pleafure; you would by your tiillin;: 
 {lories, Mr. Elder Brother, (for, tote plain, fo you 
 are by twenty years) perfuade me into the fafhions 
 of young fops; infift upon my wearing thofe fmall 
 h.ats, xvhich allow their weak brains to evaporate, 
 and the large powdered bufliy wigs, which darken 
 the figure of a human countenance ; thcfe jerkins 
 but juil below the arms, and large bands hanging 
 c!o\i r n, very long fleeves to dip in the fauce at table, 
 and petricoats in imitation of breeches; tho/e hand- 
 ibme fhoes drefled out with ribbons, which appear 
 Jike rough-footed pigeons, and thofe large rollers, 
 vhere the captive legs are confined every morn- 
 ing, as if they were in the frocks, and which 
 make thofe fine gentlemen walk with a ftrad- 
 dle, as if they were flying? It would undoubt- 
 edly give you great pleafure to fee me creiTed out 
 in the manner as I obferve you always do. 
 
 Ariftc. One fhould not make themftlves parti- 
 cular, but comply with the majority. An extreme 
 on either fide is offenfive; no wife man fhould 
 have any thing affefted cither^ in his words cr 
 cloaths, but follow what is introduced by cuftom. 
 One fhould net imitate people who are fo fond c-f 
 being in extremes, that they would be uneafy it" 
 another perfon were a ftep beyond them. But I 
 think it wrong upon one's (ingle opinion cbftinate- 
 ly to avoid what every other perfon does ; it is cer- 
 tainly better to be among the number of fools, 
 than fo be the only one the reverfe of every other 
 perfon.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUS13ANDS. 107 
 
 Sganarel. This is the opinion of an old fellow, 
 who conceals grey hairs under a black periwig, to 
 impofe himfelf upon the world for younger than 
 I. : really is. 
 
 Arifb. It is very odd th?.t you muft always up- 
 braid me with my age, and rail againft decency as 
 well as cHeaifulnefs, as if cl:i people v/ere to think 
 ef the grave only, and not enjoy the pleafures of 
 this world at all: old age is aitcncled v/ith clifa- 
 greeable circurnihnces enough, without being do- 
 vcnly and ill-tempered. 
 
 Sganarel. I am refolved to make no alteration 
 in my drcfs, be it as it will. I will have a hat 
 with a brim for to flicker my head, a long doub- 
 let, buttoned clofe as it fhould be, to keep the fto- 
 mach warm for digeftScn; a pair of breeches made 
 to fit my thighs, and i'hoes that will not pinch my 
 toes, fudi as wife people wore formerly, in fpite of 
 the fafhion ; and whoever does not like my drefj 
 may dole his eyes. 
 
 S C E N E II. 
 
 LEONORA, ISABELLA, LISETTA, ARISTO and 
 SGANAREL whifpering together at the fiuther 
 part of the ftagc, without being feen. 
 
 I 
 
 LEONORA to Ifabclla. 
 WILL take it all upon me to prevent your 
 
 Lifetta to Ifabella.] What, always in a room 
 without being feen by any body ? 
 Ifab.Iia. Such is his temper. 
 Leonora. I pity you for it, filler. 
 LSfttta to Leonora-] It ij lucky for you, ma- 
 E 6
 
 IO8 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 dam, that his brother is quite of a different tem- 
 per; and fate was very kind to you in throwing 
 you into the hands of a reafonable man. 
 
 Ifabella. It is a miracle, that he has not locked 
 me up, ortaken me with him to-day. 
 
 Lifetta. Faith I would fend him to the devil with 
 his ruff, and 
 
 Sganarel being run againft by Lifetta.] By your 
 favour, whither are you going? 
 
 Leonora. We do not know yet; I was advifing 
 my filter to walk out and enjoy the benefit of this- 
 fine weather. But 
 
 Sganarel, to Leonora.] For your part, you may 
 
 go where you Avill ; [pointing to Lifetta.] you have 
 
 'nothing to do but ramble, both of you together; 
 
 [to Ifabella.] but as for you, madam, ifyoupleafe, 
 
 1 defire you may not go. 
 
 Ariilo. Ah! brother, let us give them leave to* 
 go and entertain themfelves. 
 
 Sganarel. I am your fervant, brother. 
 
 Ariflo. Young people would 
 
 Sganarel. Young people are foolifh,and old ones 
 too fometimes. 
 
 Ariito. Do you think there is any harm in hep 
 going with Leonora. 
 
 Sganai-el. No, but I would rather have her lay 
 with me. 
 
 Arifto. But 
 
 Sganarel. But her actions fhallbe under my di- 
 retliun: in fliort, I know it is my intereft to take 
 care of them. 
 
 Arifto. Air. I lefs concerned in thcfe of her 
 fitter ? 
 
 SgiinareL Alas! every one judges and acls ss 
 he chufes. They have no relations, and cur friend,
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. IO(> 
 
 their father, in his laft moments, committed the 
 cave of them to us, defiring us to marry them our- 
 felves, or if that was not agreeable, to difpofe of 
 them to others at a proper age; by this contraft 
 he chofe to give us over them from their child- 
 hood the authority of father and hufband. You 
 took the care of bringing up one, and I the other: 
 you manage your charge as you think proper, pray 
 let me do the fame. 
 
 ^.riflo. I think 
 
 Sganarel. I think, and will fpeak it freely, that 
 I talk right upon this fubjecl. You fuffer yours to- 
 flaunt about taudry and fine: lam fatisfied. Let 
 her jaunt about, love idlenefs, allow coxcombs to 
 pay compliments to her; with all my heart: 
 but I am determined mine mail live as I pleafc, and 
 not have her own will; flie fhall be drefled in a de- 
 cent ftuff gown, wear black on holidays, go little 
 abroad, but prudently apply herfelf to houfewife- 
 ry; at her fpare hours mend my linen, or for her 
 entertainment knit (lockings; me fhall not hear 
 the flattery of fops, nor go abroad without fome- 
 body to take care of her : in fhort, the flefh is weak,. 
 I know what is faid concerning thefe matters, and 
 will not wear horns if I can avoid it; and as it is 
 her fate to marry me, I will be as fure^f her per- 
 fon as my own, 
 
 Ifabella. You have no reafon, I believe 
 
 Sganarel. Be filent; I will let you know whe- 
 ther you are to go abroad without me. 
 
 Leonora. What then, Sir, 
 
 Sganarel. Lord, maiianv, no words; I do not 
 talk to you, for you are too wife. 
 
 Leonora. Are you angry to fee Ifabella with 
 us?
 
 1 I O THE SCHOOLFOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 Sganarcl. Why really yes, you fpail her for 
 inc. Your visits here difpleafe me, and you will 
 oblige me if you \vill make no more of them. 
 
 Leonora, Muft I a lib tell you my real fenti- 
 ments ? I do not know how fhe puts up with this ; 
 but I know what effect fufpicion would have, on 
 me-, and though both one Avoman's daughters, v,e 
 can hardly be fitters, if your ufual behaviour in- 
 duces her to love you. 
 
 Lifetta. 80 many cautions are fhameful : are 
 \7C in Turkey, to be locked up? It is faid women 
 are kept like flvives there, and that thofe people are 
 accurfed of heaven on that account. Our honour is 
 very weak indeed, it" it is ncccfiary to watch it con- 
 tinually: do you think you can prevent our intenti- 
 ons by thefc precautions? No, no, the utmoil craf- 
 tincfs is to no purpoie when we take any tiling in- 
 to our head ; upon my .word, the be ft way is to 
 confide in us Confinement puts our inventions 
 on the ftretch, and he that takes it in hand brings 
 himfelf into great danger, for our honour is always 
 for guarding itfelf. When we arc fo carefully 
 watched, we have the greater dcfire to do impru- 
 dent things; and were I retrained by a huiband, 
 I v.ouLl be vaftly inclined to realize his fufpici- 
 ons. 
 
 Sganarel to Arifto.3 This is your manner of e- 
 ducation, good Mr. Teacher; and you can bear it 
 without being concerned. 
 
 Arifto. One mould cn!y laugh at what fhe fays> 
 brother; yet there is reafon in it. Her fex loves 
 liberty, ani will not be kept from it by feverity; 
 bolts and grates, and diftruflful cares will not 
 jnake virtuous wives or girls; it is not authority, 
 Lut honour, that will keep them to their duty. A
 
 THE SCHOOL 1011 HUSUANUS. Ml 
 
 .'-:, who is prudent by force only, is a ftrange 
 thing indeed. It is to no purpefe to attempt tf 
 -govern their aliens; in my opinion the heart muic 
 be gained; and with all poffiblc care, 1 {hould not 
 think my honour very fafe in the4iands of a pa - 
 f. in, who wants only an opportunity of tranfgrcf- 
 i;ug amongft the aflaults of temptation. 
 iSganarsl. It is all nonfcnfe. 
 
 Arifto. Well, be it ib ; but it is my opinion, 
 that young people fnould always he infhucbed with 
 good humour; their failings fhculd be reproved 
 with meoknefs, and the name of virtue not made 
 terrible to them. By tliefe maxims I have guided 
 ir,y cares for Leonora; 1 h. ve always complied 
 wirh lier youthful defires, and have net let Led 
 upon fmall liberties as crirnin.il j and it fives nc 
 pieafui'e tiiat 1 have no reafon to repent of my in- 
 <!a'i;cncc. 1 have introduced her into genteel com- 
 pany, allowed her to attend balls, ' plays, a:ui :.il 
 diveriions,\\ hich I think necefiary to form the minds 
 of young people; in my opinion, the world is a 
 fch.iol, which teaches the ways of life better than 
 can be taught by books. She takes pleafure in 
 fpending money upon faihionable deaths and li- 
 nen ; what would you have me do? Thefe plea- 
 furcs (hould be granted to young women, \\hen 
 one can afford it; and I am willing to gratify her 
 wilhes. She is obliged to marry me by her father's 
 cieiire, but I never will be a tyrant to her. 1 arn 
 fcrnfible that there is no equality in cur ages, 
 therefore I give her her own choice; and if a 
 great <-^l of tendernefs, polite refpect," and a 
 ihoufand pounds a-year, can in her opinion make 
 up for the difference in a^c, fhc inay have me for 
 a hufbaud; if not, let her pleafe hcrfelf; if (he cap
 
 112 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 be happier with another perfon, I (hall agree to itr 
 it will give me more pleafure to fee her happy 
 with another, than to be poflefied of her againft 
 her inclination. 
 
 Sganarel. He is all fweetnefs. 
 
 Arifto. Indeed it is my temper, and I am thank- 
 ful for it; I will never follow thofe rigid rules 
 which induce children to wifh their parents dead. 
 
 Sganarel. But liberties of youth are not eafily: 
 laid afide, and you will not be of the fame way of 
 thinking \vhen her manner of living is changed.. 
 
 Arifto. And why muft it be changed ? 
 
 SganareL Why? 
 
 Arifto. Yes, why fhould it? 
 
 Sganarel. I cannot tell. 
 
 Arifto. Is there any thing in it to hurt a per- 
 fon's honour? 
 
 Sganarel. And if you marry her, will fhe pre- 
 tend to the fame liberties which fhe took while fhe 
 was unmarried? 
 
 Arifto. Why fhould fhe not ? 
 
 Sganarel. Will you be fo complaifant as to al- 
 low her ribbons and patches? 
 
 Arifto. Undoubtedly. 
 
 Sganarel. Allow her to attend all balls and af- 
 femblies like a mad creature ? 
 
 Arifto. Certainly. 
 
 Sganarel. And fhall the beaux come to your 
 houfe? 
 
 Arifto. And what then ? 
 
 Sganarel. To make merry, and give entertain- 
 ments ? 
 
 Arifto. I confcnt to it. 
 
 Sganarel. And fhall your wife hear their fine 
 fpeeches ?
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. IIJ 
 
 Arifto. Ay. 
 
 Sganarel. And you will behold thefe coxcombs 
 viilts in fuch a manner, as- may {hew you do not 
 in the leaft regard them ? 
 
 Ariilo. Certainly. 
 
 Sganarel. Go, you are an old fool. [tolfabel- 
 la-3 Get you in,, that you may not hear this infj- 
 11011* conduct. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 ARISTO, SGANAREL, LEONORA, 
 L I S E T T A. 
 
 ARIS TO. 
 
 I WILL commit niyfelf to the fidelity of my 
 wife, and intend always to live as I have done. 
 
 Sganarel. How greatly will I be rejoiced when 
 he is made a cuckold! 
 
 Arifto. I cannot tell to what fortune I am born ; 
 but I know, that for your part, if you fail to be 
 one, the fault muft not be laid on you, for you 
 have ufed every precaution to avoid it. 
 
 Sganarel. Laugh on, giggler; O what '-a. plea- 
 fure it muft give one to fee a buffoon of almoft 
 fixty. 
 
 Leonora. I engage to preferve him from the 
 fate you talk of, if I marry him ; he may aflure 
 himfelf of it: but know that my heart would be an- 
 fwerable for nothing, was I to be your wife. 
 
 Lifetta. There is a confcience due to thofe who 
 confide in us; but it is delightful, really, to- cheat 
 fuch people as you. 
 
 Sganarel. Be gone with your foolifh ill-bred 
 tongue.
 
 114 THE SCHOOL FOB HUSBANDS. 
 
 Ariflo. You biing this ridicule upon yourfelf, 
 brother. Farewell, alter your temper, and be fore- 
 \varned, thr.t locking up a wife is the worft ftep 
 you can t:ike. Your fervar.t. 
 
 Sganarel. I a:;i not yourV. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 SGANAKLL <:lone. 
 
 OHOW excellently they are all fuitcd one to 
 another! v/hat a hopeful f.iry.ily; a foolifh 
 old dotard, who acts the fop in a crazy worn-out 
 carcafe, a girl that is miftrefs, the arranteft ccqv.et 
 
 that can be, and impertinent fervants! No, 
 
 not even \vifdom herfelf could bring it about, fhe 
 would be ckftitutc cf ail feme and rcafon to endea- 
 vour the regulation of fuch z fan.i'y- Ifabella 
 
 may lofe thofe principles of honour fhe has im 
 bibed with me amor.gft fuch acouaintance: and, 
 in order to prevent this misfortune, I intend fhort- 
 ly to fend her back again to my cabbages and my 
 turkics. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 V A L E R E, G A K f. B. E L, R G A S T P.- 
 
 VALERE at the further part of the fi:ge. 
 
 THERE is the Argus that I iletcft, Lrgafle; 
 the rigid guardian of her I love. 
 S;:nanarel thinking himfelf a'cne. 3 Is rot the 
 corruption of manners no\v-a-days very a!lonifh 
 '
 
 THE SCHOOL TOR HUSEANDS. 11$ 
 
 Vr.lcre. I will fpralc to him, if 1 can, and cii- 
 tkavour to get accuainteii with him. 
 
 Sganarel. Inftead of feeing that feverit'y prevail, 
 of which in former times virtue fo puperly con- 
 fifted, the young people hereabouts, debauched, 
 without reftraint, do not take 
 
 Vi'.lere. lie does not perceive that we arc bow- 
 ing to him. 
 
 . Ergnfte. His blind eye is on this fitle, perhaps; 
 Jet us get to the ri;.;hr fide of him. 
 
 Sganarcl. I muft leave this place. A city life 
 i ;n (illy produce in me the 
 
 Valere approaching him.] I muft endeavour to 
 pair, admittance to his houfc. 
 
 Sganarel hearing a noife.] How! I thought I 
 heard a voice in the country, heaven be praifed, 
 I am not plagued with thefe frvlhicnable fooleries. 
 
 Jirgafte to Valere.]] Go up -to him. 
 
 Sganarel flill hearing a noife.] "\Vhr.t would he 
 be at? my ears tingle. There, all the amufements 
 of our young women are [Seeing Vulere bow.]] 
 Is that to me? 
 
 Ergafhe. Go rearer. 
 
 Sganarel not minding Valere 3 Here no cox- 
 comb comes. [Valere bows again.] "What the 
 deuce! [Turns and fees Ergafte bow on the ctlicr 
 fide,] Again? \Vhat mean thefe bows? 
 
 Valsre. Accofting you in this manner. Sir, in- 
 u-rrupts you, perhaps? 
 
 Sganarel. May be fo. 
 
 Valerv. Bi.t why fo? I was fo much delighted 
 \vith th^ honrurof your acquaintance, that I de- 
 /Ired vaflly to pay my rcfpecls to you, 
 
 Sganarei. Be it fo.
 
 Il6 THE SCHOOL FOR. HUSBANDS. 
 
 Valere. To wait on you, and aflure you, with- 
 out any diiTimulation that I am wholly at your fei> 
 vice. 
 
 Sganarel. I believe fo. 
 
 Valere. I am fo fortunate as to be one of your 
 neighbours, for which I am thankful to my happy 
 deftiny. 
 
 Sganarel. That is well done. 
 
 Valere. Have you heard the news, Sir, which 
 is current at court, and thought to be true? 
 
 Sganarel. What dees it concern me?- 
 
 Valeie. True j however, a man, fometimes* 
 may be curious after novelties. Will you go, Sir r 
 and fee the grand preparations for the birth of our 
 Dauphin ? 
 
 Sganarel. If I think fit. 
 
 . Valere. Paris,we own, affords us numberlefs a- 
 mufements which are no where elfe. The coun- 
 try is a folitude in comparifon. How do you pafs 
 away the time ?. 
 
 Sganarel. About my bufmefs. 
 
 V-alere. The mind fhould have fome relaxation-, 
 it flags by too earned an attention to ferious things. 
 In what manner do you pafs the evening before 
 bed-time? 
 
 Sganarel. As I chufe. 
 
 Valere. Certainly; nothing could be faid better; 
 it is a rcafonable anfwer, and good fenfe appears in 
 never doing any thing but what one chufes. If 'I 
 thought you was not too much taken up, I fhould 
 come fometimes to your houfe, after fupper, to pafs 
 away the time. 
 
 S ganareU Your fervant.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBAKDB. 1 I J 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 VALERE, E R G A S T E. 
 V A L E R E. 
 
 WELL, what do you think of this whimfi- 
 cal fool? 
 
 Ergafte. He has a furly way of anfwering, and 
 receives people very favagely. 
 Valere. Ah! how vexed I am! 
 Ergafte. At what ? 
 
 Valere. At what ? It provokes me to fee her 1 
 love in the power of a barbarian, a watchful dra- 
 gon, whofe feverity will not allow her the lead li- 
 berty. 
 
 Ergafte. That makes for you, and on the effect 
 of it your pafilon muft build its fureft hopes. 
 Know, for your encouragement, that a woman that 
 is watched is half won, and the peevifhnefs of fa- 
 thers and hufbands always forwards the bufmefs of 
 lovers. I -intrigue very little, it is myleaftaccom- 
 plitliment, and I have not the leaft pretenfions to 
 galantry : but I have aififted twenty of your fportf- 
 jnen, who often faid, they were belt pleafed to meet 
 with thofe churlifli hufbands, who never come 
 home without grumblinj, thofe fuJkn fellows, who 
 without thought or reafon condemn the con duel: of 
 their wives in everything, and haughtily niTiiming 
 upon the name cf hu(ba:id, fall out with them for 
 nothing in tue company of their admirers. One 
 knows, fay they, to make the beft of thefe advan- 
 tages; and the kuiy's indignation at fuch kind of 
 ufage, the foft complaining, the obliging condo- 
 lence of the lov^r up 311 ihe occafon, afford an op-
 
 1 1 8 Ti r z O:HOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 portunity to pufli things far enough. In fhorv 
 the furlinefs of Jfabella's guardrla is a circum 
 (lance fufliciently favourable for you. 
 
 Valere. I could never find the lead opportuni 
 ty of converfmg with her thefc four months that '. 
 have been in love with her. 
 
 Ergaft-f. Love quickens people's wits; though 
 it has little eOrecl: on yours: if I had been 
 
 Vaiere. "Why, what could you have done? wher 
 fb.2 is never to be feca without that brute, an< ; 
 there are neither maids nor footmen in the houfc 
 whom I might influence to affi-ft my p;>.{fion by tht 
 flattering tcmptaiicm of u reward, 
 
 Ergafte. Doe; ihe not k:io\v yet that you are In 
 love with Irer ? 
 
 Valere. That is a matter which rny heart is ro: 
 yet informed of; where-over ihr.t churl hns carried 
 the fair one, (he has ieen rae continually after her 
 like a ihado-v, r,:ut my looks hare always endea- 
 voured. to declare to her the violence of my pad-- 
 on. My eyes have fpoke loudly to her; but who 
 can tell me whetherth'iy could make their language 
 be u'.iderftOfod? 
 
 Erg:ifL>. That l.in^'iaric, it is true, may fome- 
 timei prove u&intslUgibte, if it has neithjr writing 
 nor fpeech for its interim 
 
 tream uneailncfs, and learn if the fair one knows 
 I love her ? L:t me know by fdme rm-av . 
 
 Ergaile. Tint: is what mull be contrived. Let 
 us go into your hcufe :i little, tiiat we may cn'i- 
 dcrof it better.
 
 THE SCHOOL tOR HUSBANDS. I I <) 
 
 A C T II. S C E N E I. 
 
 ISABELLA, SGANAREL. 
 SGANAREL. 
 
 YOU need go no farther, I know the houic 
 ancl pcrlbn by the marks alone that you 
 give me. 
 
 Ifabella afide "\ Be favourable to me now, ye 
 gods! and let the artful contrivance of an innoc'ent 
 paffion fucceed. 
 
 Sgunarel. His name is Valere, I think you fay 
 people tell you ? 
 
 Ifabella. Yes, they told me fo. 
 
 Sganarel. Go, be eafy: gtt you in, and leave 
 rr.c to do it. I will go talk immediately to 'this 
 young rake. 
 
 Ifabclla going.] The project lam now about is 
 a very bol-.l rne for a young girl; but every con- 
 fidcrate perfon will readily forgive me, when they 
 know how fevcrely I am treated. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 SGANAREL alone, knocking at the door, thinking 
 it is Va'ere's. 
 
 LET us lofo no time: this is the place. Who 
 i; there? Weil, I ain thinking.-*- Soho, I 
 fay, folio, fomebody. I am not uirprized, after 
 this d'.fc-Mcry, that he came thither juft now in fj
 
 12,3 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 complaifant a manner; but I will be expeditious, 
 and his foolifh hope 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 TALERE, SGANAREL, ERGASTE. 
 
 SGANAREL to Ergafte, who comes ouj haflily. 
 
 DEUCE take the lubberly afs, who plants 
 himfelf like a ppft directly before me, in 
 order to throw me down. 
 
 Valere. Sir, I am forry for that 
 
 Sganarel. Ah! it is you I look for. 
 
 Valere. Me, Sir? 
 
 Sganarel. Yes you: is not your name Vulcrc? 
 
 Valere. Yes. 
 
 Sganarel. I come to fpeak vvkh you, if you 
 pleafe. 
 
 Valere. 1 fliall do all in my power to ferve 
 you. 
 
 Sganarel. I am obliged to you, but I myfelf in- 
 tend to do a good t-urn for you; and that is what 
 brings me to your houfe. 
 
 Valere. To my houfe, Sir? 
 
 Sganarel. To your houfe; need you be fo ailo- 
 nimed at that? 
 
 Valere. I have great rcafon to be fo ? and thd 
 honour you do me is - 
 
 Sganarel. Piay talk no more of lionour. 
 
 Valere. Will net you walk in ? 
 
 Sganard. There is no occafion for it. 
 
 Valere. Sir, pray go you firit. 
 
 Sganarel. No; I will not go a ftcp farther. 
 
 Valere. I cannot hear you whiift you tetnnln 
 here.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 121 
 
 Sg.marel. I will not ftir. 
 
 Valere. Well, I mufl fubmit: Since the 
 
 gentleman is refolved upon it, bring a chair hither, 
 quickly. 
 
 Sganarel. I will talk (landing. 
 
 Valere. Can I fuffer you in this manner! 
 
 Sganarel. Oh ! it is a terrible force upon you! 
 
 Valere. Such rudenefs would be too inexcufa- 
 ble. 
 
 . Sganarel. Nothing can be fo rude as not to pay 
 attention to people that would fpeak to us. 
 
 Valere. I obey you then. 
 
 Sganarel. You cannot do better. [They ufe 
 abundance of compliments about putting on their 
 hats.] So much ceremony is nccdlefs. Will 
 you hear me ? 
 
 Valere. Undoubtedly, and with a great deal of 
 pleafure. 
 
 Sganarel. Anfwcrme then; Do you know that 
 I am the guardian of a hundfome young woman, 
 called Ifabella, who lodges in this neighbourhood? 
 
 Valere. Yes. 
 
 Sganarel. If you know it, I need not inform 
 you but do you know likewiie, that being fenfible 
 of her charms, I am concerned for her in anoth'er 
 manner than as a guardian, and that fhe is deftined 
 to the honour of my bed ? 
 
 Valere. No. 
 
 Sganarel. Then I inform you of that; and, that 
 it is very fit you fhould not difturb her with your 
 paffion. 
 
 Valere. Who, I, Sir? 
 
 Sganarel. *Ay, you: you need not diffemble. 
 
 Valere. Who told you that I had a paffion for 
 her? 
 
 VOL. II. F
 
 IZZ THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 Seanarel. People that one may believe. 
 
 Valere. But who, pray ? 
 
 .Sganarel. She herfelf. 
 
 Valere. She ! 
 
 Sganarel. Ay, fhe : Is that faying enough ? 
 Like an honeft girl, that has loved me from her 
 infancy, fhe told me all, juft now; and mere than 
 that, charged me to let you knew, that f-.irce fiie 
 has been followed every where by you, her heart, 
 which ycur purfuit exceedingly offends, has un- 
 derftood but too well the language of your eyes , 
 tint fhe very well knows your fecret wilhes; and 
 that it is giving yourielf a needlefs troubk to en- 
 deavour at explaining a pailion farther, which is 
 contrary to that affection fhe referves for me. 
 
 Valere. Is it me, do you fay, that from herfelf 
 macle you 
 
 Sganarel. Ay, come to give you this frank and 
 faithful account-, and that having obferved the vi- 
 olent love which difturbs your mind, fhe would 
 have mad-e known her intentions to you, if, under 
 fuch emotion of fcul, fhe could have found any 
 tody to fend this m-eflage by? but that, at lafl, 
 the vexation of being under a Paic~t confinement, 
 bi ought her to make ufc of me, to apprize you, as 
 I have told you, that her affection muft be grant- 
 ed to nobody but me; that you have ogled her long 
 -enough, and that, if you iiave ever fo little under- 
 
 landing, you will take fome other meafures. 
 
 Adieu, till I fee you again -this is what I had to 
 tell you. 
 
 Valere low.] What think you of this adventure, 
 Ergafte ? 
 
 Sganarel low afide.J He is greatly aiv.szed. 
 
 Ergafte low to Valere. j ; Tis my opinion, theie
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. I 2. 3 
 
 is nothing in it to difpleafe you, but that fome fub- 
 tile myilery is concealed under it: and in fliort, 
 that this meflage does not come from one who 
 would deftroy the love fhe infpires in you. 
 
 Sganarel afide J He takes it right. 
 
 Valere lew to Ergafte.j You judge it to be my- 
 ftericus. 
 
 Ergafte low.] Yes but we areobfcrved by him; 
 let us get out of his fight. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 SGANAREL alone. 
 
 HIS confufion plainly (hews that he expect - 
 ed no fuch meflage! But let us call Ifa- 
 bella; (he fhews what effect education has upon 
 the mind. So virtuous is fhe, that fhe is difpleaf- 
 cA at the very looks of a man. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 ISABELLA, SGANAREL. 
 
 ISABELLA to herfelf entering. 
 
 MY lover I am afraid does not underftand the 
 intention of my meflage, fo full he is of 
 my pailion; and fince I am fuch a prifoner, I will 
 run the rifque of anotherthatmay fpeak my mean- 
 ing plainer. 
 
 Sganarel. Here I am returned. 
 Ifabella. Well. 
 
 Sganarel. Your meflage has had its full effect; 
 
 your man's bufinefs is done. At firft he would 
 
 not confefs that his heart was fick with love, but 
 
 when I afTurcd him I came from you, hcwas flruck 
 
 F 2
 
 124 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 immediately dumb and confounded, and I do not 
 think he will come any more hither. 
 
 Ifabella. Hn ! what do you fay? I very much 
 apprehend the contrary, and that he is again cut- 
 ling out more work for us. 
 
 .Sganarel. What makes you thmkfo? 
 
 Ifabella. No fooner was you got out of doors, 
 than, putting my head -out at the window to take 
 the air, 1 faw a young fellow at yonder turning, 
 who came very furprifingly, to wifh me a good 
 morning from that impertinent fellow, and flung 
 a box direclly into my chamber, in which was a 
 letter fealed lik a billet-doux. I would immedi- 
 ately have thrown it back to him, but ke was got 
 to the end of the ftrect, and my heart fwells with 
 vexation at it. 
 
 Sganarel. Obferve the cunning, the knavery! 
 
 Ifabella. It is my duty to lend back immediate- 
 ly the box and letter to this woeful lover, and I (hall 
 want fomeibody for that purpofe, for to make bold 
 with you- - 
 
 Sganarel. On the contrary, dearee, it convinc- 
 es me the better of your affection and fidelity; my 
 heart joyfully accepts the office, and I cannot ex- 
 prefs how much you oblige me by it. 
 
 IfabeHa. Take it then. 
 
 Well, let us fee what lie could write 
 
 to you. 
 
 Ifabclla. O heavens! be fure not to open i. 
 
 Sganarel. For .what reafon ? 
 
 liabella. Would you give him the lead occafion 
 to imagine it was I ? - A woman of honourought 
 always to avoid reading the letters a man fends her { 
 thecuriofity one then difcovers, iliews a fecrit plea- 
 iiure in hearing one's felf praifcd ; and J think it
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 12$ 
 
 proper this letter fhould immediately be carried to 
 him, fealed up as it is, that he may fo much the 
 better learn how I hate him , that his paflion may 
 not have the leafc hope. henceforward, and no more 
 attempt the like extravagance. 
 
 Sganare!. She has certainly reafon for what flie 
 fays. Well, lam delighted with your vir- 
 tue and difcreti- T. I percent- that my inflruli- 
 ons are rooted m your foul: and, in a word, you 
 fliew that you deferve to be my wife. 
 
 Ifabella. I would not, however, balk your curi- 
 ofity: you have got the letter, and you may open 
 it. 
 
 Sganarel. Alas: I have not the lead curiofiryv 
 no, your reafons are too good for that, and I am 
 j-.ift going to difcharge the truft you put in me ; af- 
 terwards, I (hall ftcp a little way to fpeak a word 
 er two, and then return to make you ervfy* 
 
 S C E M E V.I~ 
 
 SCAN A REE alone.. 
 
 HOW happy am I in finding her fuch a pru- 
 dent girl ! She is a treafure of honour in 
 my family! to take the gJances of love for treafon, 
 receive a billet-doux as- a very great injury, and 
 fend it back again- to her gallant by me! I have a 
 great defire to know, whether upon fuch an occa- 
 fion my brother's damfel would have acted thus. 
 Faith, girls are juft what they are taught to be 
 Soho. [Knocking at Valere's door^
 
 I2<S THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 SGANAREL, ERGASTE. 
 ER G A S T E. 
 
 WHO is there? 
 Sganarel. Takethis; ?.nd tell your maf- 
 ter that he muft not r.ny more impertinently pre- 
 fume to write letters and fend them with golden 
 boxes, and that Ifabella is very vexed at it. See, 
 fhe has not fo much as opened it. He will find 
 how much fhe regards his paffion, and what hap- 
 py fuccefs he ought to expecl: from it. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 VALERE, EUGASTE. 
 VALERE. 
 
 WHAT have you got from that peevifh fel- 
 low? 
 
 Ergaile. This letter, Sir, which, with this box, 
 he pretends that Ifabella received from you, and a- 
 tout which, he fays, fhe is very angry. She fends 
 It back to you v;ithout fo much as opening it j read 
 it quickly, and let us fee if I am miftaken. 
 
 Valere reads.] " You will undoubtedly be fur- 
 " prized t thisletter; andbcththe defign of writ- 
 " ing,and the manner of getting it to you, may be 
 u thought very rafhin me: but I find myfelf in a 
 " fituation not to obferve forms any longer. The 
 *' juft dread of a marriage wherewith I amthreaten- 
 u ed in fix days, makes me run all rifques: and 
 t( being refolved to free myfelf by feme means or
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 127 
 
 ,v, I believe, ih.U I ought rather to choofe 
 " you than defjv.ir. However, you need notthink 
 " that vou are wholly obliged to my evil defliny: 
 " it is not theconitraintl am under that givesbirth 
 " to the fcntiments I have for yoti ; bat it is that 
 " which nukes me <Jifcover them, and forces me 
 " to pafs cverthofe formalities \vhich the decency 
 " of my fex requires. It depends on yourfelfa- 
 " lone to have me ipeedily yours, and I wait you 
 " till you fhew me what your love defigns, before 
 " I let you know the refclution I have taken : but 
 <c above all, remember tl-.at time is prciilng, and 
 " that half a word is enough for two hearts in 
 " love." 
 
 Ergnfte. Well, Sir, is net this contrivance an o- 
 liginal ? For a young creature, her underftanding 
 in this affair is not amifs. Who would imagine 
 her capable of thefc love ftratagems ? 
 
 Valere. Ah! She is an amiable creature! This 
 ftroke of her wit and friendftiip oven doubles my 
 paflion for her ; and adds to the fentiments where- 
 with her beauty infpires me. 
 
 Ergafte. The ruffian is coming; confider what 
 you muft fay to him. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 S G A X A R E L, VALERE, E R G A S T E. 
 
 SGANAREL thinking that he was alone. 
 k THRICE and four time bleft be this c- 
 
 . r uifl which prohibits extravagance in drefs ! 
 
 The uneafinefs of hufbands wiilbe no more fo griev- 
 ous, and wives will now belimited intheirdemands. 
 Oh ! how I am obliged to the king fcr this dc- 
 F 4
 
 128 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 cree ! And, for the fatisfaHonof the faid hufbands, 
 how I wifh that coquettry was prohibited as well 
 as laces and embroidery. I have bought the edit 
 on purpofe for Ifabelia to read to me; and that, 
 for want of other employment, fhall be our diver- 
 fion by and by after fupper. [feeing Valere. 3 Will 
 you fend love-letters wirh golden boxes again, Mr. 
 Fribble? You furely thought to find fome young 
 coquette, fond of intrigues, and eafily meked down 
 by flattery; but you fee with what an air your pre- 
 fents are received; and be affured, it is fpending 
 your powder to kill fparrows. She is difcreet; fhe 
 loves me ; and fhe is affronted at your paffion ; a- 
 way, bag and baggage, therefore, and form your 
 defigns elfewhere* 
 
 Valere. Ay, indeed, Sir, your merit, to which 
 every body yields, is too powerful an obftacle to 
 my addreffes; and however fincere my paffion be 
 for Ifabelia, it is in vain to contend with you. 
 
 Sganarel. It is true, it is a folly. 
 
 Valere. Nor fhould I have devoted my heart to 
 the purfuit of her beauty, could I have forefeen 
 that this miferable heart fhculd find a rival fo for- 
 midable as you. 
 
 Sganarel. I believe it. 
 
 Valere. I now, Sir, yield to you, without mur- 
 muring, as I can no longer hope for any favour. 
 
 Sganarel. You do well. 
 
 Valere. Reafon will have it fo; for you are fo 
 virtuous, that I fhould be in the v.'rong to behold 
 with an angry eye the tender fentiments Ifabelia has 
 for you. 
 
 Sganarel. That is to be fuppofed. 
 
 Valere. Yes, yes, I yield to you. But, Sir, I 
 befeech you, (and it is the only favour a wretched
 
 THE SCHOOL FOE HUSB'ANDS. . I 2 
 
 lover begs, whofe prefent torment you are the fole 
 reafon of:) I conjure you then, to affure Ifabella, 
 that if for three months pad my foul has loved her, 
 its paffion has been pure and fpotlefs, and never 
 had a thought which her honour could reafonably 
 be difpleafed at. 
 
 Sganarel. Ay- 
 
 Valere. That having nothing but my own irr- 
 clinations to gratify, all my defigns were to obtain- 
 her for a wife, if, in you, who are now the fole 
 pofleflbr of her heart, fate had not oppofed an ob- 
 ftacle to this jufl paflion. 
 
 Sganarel. Mighty well. 
 
 Valere, That, happen what will, fhe muft not 
 imagine I can ever forget her charms ; that in what 
 manner foever I muft fubmit to the degrees of hea- 
 ven, 1 am deftined to love her as long as I live; 
 and that, if any thing flifles my addrefles, it is the 
 juft regard I have for your merit. 
 
 Sganarel. That is wifely faid, and I am going 
 to inform her of this dSfcourfe, at which fhe will 
 not be difpleafed; but if you will truft to me, endea- 
 vour earneilly to drivethispafiion out of your head.. 
 Adieu. 
 
 Ergafte. Excellent bubble! 
 
 SCENE X. 
 
 SGANAREL alone. 
 
 I AM very forry fcr this poor good-natured 
 fellow , but it was unhappy for him to think 
 of taking a fort that I had fubdued. 
 
 [Sganarel knocks at his door,. 
 * 5
 
 130 THE SCHOOL tCR HUSJB^XDS. 
 
 SCENE XL 
 
 SGANAREL, IS A SELL A. 
 S C A N A R E L . 
 
 NEVER did a letter returned unopened give 
 a lover more uneafinefso his hope*, in fliort, 
 are quite deftroyed, and he is withdrawn : but he 
 begged me to tell you, that in loving you, his paf- 
 fion has been pure and fpotlefs, and never had a 
 thought which could in the leaft difpleafe your ho- 
 nour; and that having only his own inclinations 
 to gratify, all his defiros were to obtain you for a 
 wife if fate had not, by making me pofleiTcrof your 
 heart, oppofed him; that, le; what will happen, 
 you muft not imagine that he can ever erafe your 
 charms out of his mind; that whatsoever decrees 
 of heaven he muft fubmit to, he is deflined to love 
 you even to the lateft gafp: and that, if any thing 
 ftifles his addrefles, it is the juft regard he has for 
 my merit. Thefe are his own words, and fo far 
 from blaming him, I think him an honeft fellow, 
 and pity him for loving you. 
 
 Ifabella foftly.] I have not been miftaken in my 
 belief of his paffion ; his looks afiured me always 
 of its innocence. 
 
 Sganarel. What do you fay? 
 
 Ifabella. That it is unkind to me to pity a man 
 fo much whom I hate fo much ; and that if you 
 loved me, as you fay you do, you would be fenfi- 
 ble how 1 am affronted by his addrefles. 
 
 Sganarel. But he did not know your mind; and 
 for the honefty of his intention, his love does not 
 deferve
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSDANBS. 13! 
 
 Ifabelia. Is it a good intention, pray now, to 
 think to run away with people? Is it acting like a 
 man of honour to form clefigns of taking me from 
 you, and marrying me by force, as if I was a crea- 
 ture that could bear life after fuch infamy being 
 thrown upon me? 
 
 Sganarel. How? 
 
 Ifabelia. Yes, really, this bafe lover, I imder- 
 ftand, talks of running away with me; but I can- 
 not imagine, for my part, by what fecrct means he 
 learned fo foon that you intended to marry me at 
 farthest in eight days, fmce it was but yeilerday 
 you told me fo; but, it is reported, he will pre- 
 vent that day which fhould unite your fate and 
 mine. 
 
 Sganarel. That fign-ifies nothing. 
 
 Ifabelia. O! pardon me; he is a very honed 
 man, and does not retain for me 
 
 Sganarel. He is in the wrong, and this is carry- 
 ing the jeft too far. 
 
 Ifabella. Come, your mildnefs encourages his 
 folly. If, juft now, he had found you talk ill-na- 
 turedly to him, he would have been afraid of your 
 rage and my rcfentment, for it is even fince his 
 letter was rejected, that he fpokc of this fcandalous 
 defign; and, as iar as I can fee, his pailion makes 
 him dill imagine that my heart approves of him, 
 thatlavoid marrying, whatever the world may^ think 
 of it, and that I iliould with joy find myfelf out of 
 your clutches. 
 
 Sganarel. He is a fooL 
 
 Ifabella. He knows how to difguife himfelf be- 
 fore, you, and his intention is to amufeyou: But be 
 certain the traitor impofes upon you with his fair 
 fpecches. I am very unhappy, I am Cure, that not- 
 F 6
 
 132 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS, 
 
 withffondingall my endeavours to live with honour, 
 and repulfe the actdrefles of a vile feducer, I muft 
 be expofed to the vexation of his infamous attempts 
 upon me. 
 
 Sganarel. Wel-1, fear nothing. 
 
 Ifabella. For my part, I aflure you, that unlefs 
 you fhew yourfelf exceeding angry at fo impudent 
 an attempt, and quickly find out fome way to free 
 me from the perfecutions of fuch a raih creature, 
 I will give up everything, and not endure the af- 
 fronts I receive from him. 
 
 Sganarel. Come, be not fo much vexed, my 
 love; I will go find him out and tell him what 
 you fay. 
 
 Ifabella. However, tell him, that it is in vain 
 for him to deny it, for I was credibly informed of 
 his defign; and that after this notice, I dare defy 
 him to furprife me, whatever he may atrempt. In 
 3 word, that without farther lofs of time and trou- 
 ble, he may be fenfible what my fentiments are to- 
 wards you, and thatj if he would avoid making 
 mifchief, he muft not want being told the fame 
 thing twice. 
 
 Sganarel. I will give him a right anfwer. 
 
 Ifabella. But do it in fuch a manner that he may- 
 be fenfible it comes from my very foul. 
 
 Sganarel. Fear nothing, I will tell him every 
 thing. 
 
 Ifabella. I am impatient for your return, pray 
 make all poflible hafte. I languifh if you are from 
 my fight one moment. 
 
 Sganarel. Go } my heart's delight, I will return 
 immediately.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 133; 
 
 SCENE XII. 
 
 SGANAREL alone. 
 
 T isimpofilbleto find a difcreeter or better young 
 woman. Ah! how I am rejoiced in find- 
 ing a wife according to my own wifli! Ay, thus 
 wives ought to be, and not like fome I know, down- 
 right coquettes, that fuffer truemfelves to be court- 
 ed, and make their honeft hufbands be pointed at 
 thro' all the town. [Knocking at Valere's door. 3 
 Soho,there, where is Valere, that enterprizing youth ? 
 
 SCENE XIII. 
 
 VALERE, SGANAREL, ERG AST E. 
 V A L ERE. 
 
 WHAT brings you here now, Sir? 
 Sganarel. Your follies. 
 Valere. What do you mean? 
 Sganarel. You know well enough what I want 
 to fpeak to you about. I tell you plainly, I took 
 you to be a more fenfible young man than you are. 
 You came to amufe me with your fine fpeeches, 
 and fecretly retain your own foolifh hopes. I was 
 inclinable to ufe you gently, but at laft you will 
 force me into a pafiion. Are you not amamed, 
 confidering who you are, to invent fuch projects 
 as you do, to intend running away with a woman 
 of honour, and interrupting a marriage on which 
 depends her ~vhole happinefs? 
 
 Valere. Who told you this wonderful news, 
 Sir? 
 
 Sganarel. You need not difiemble. I lave it
 
 134 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 from Ifabella; who, for the laft time, fends you 
 word by me, that (he has plainly enough difcover- 
 ed to you whom fhe chufcs ; that her heart, which, 
 is wholly mine, is enraged at fuch an invention ; 
 that die had rather die than be fo grofsly infulted \ 
 and that you will occafion terrible doings, unlefs 
 you put an end to all this uneafmefs. 
 
 Valere. If ihe really faid what you inform me,. 
 I confefs my portion can pretend to nothing farther. 
 Theie cxpreffions are clear enough to let me fee 
 ?.ll is over, and I muft revere the fentence fne has 
 pafled. 
 
 Sganarel. You need not in the leaft doubt it.. 
 Do you imagine all the complaints I have brought 
 from her to you are mere pretences? Would you 
 have her come herfelf and tell you ? If you will 
 not believe it, follow me, you ihall fee if 1 have 
 added any thing, and if her youthful heart is in 
 fufpenfe between us. 
 
 Going to knock at his own door. 
 
 SCENE XIV. 
 
 ISABELLA, SCANAREL, VALERE, 
 E R G A S T E. 
 
 ISABELLA. 
 
 WHAT do you mean? Do you take his 
 part, and bring him to me? Do his no- 
 ble qualities charm you fomuch, thp.t you will force 
 me to love him, and endure his viiits? 
 
 Sganarel. No, dearee, I fet too great a value on 
 your heart for that; but he imagines what I told 
 him to be an errant ficTtion, he believes it is all my 
 own invention, and that I cunningly rcprefent you
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. IJJ 
 
 full of hate towards him, and tendemefs for me;, 
 wherefore, from your own mouth I would cure him 
 infallibly of an error which encourages his pafllon. 
 
 Ifabella. What, does not my foul fully declare 
 its meaning to you, and can you ftill be doubtful 
 whom I love? 
 
 Valere. Indeed, madam, I might well be fur- 
 prized at whatever the gentleman faid to me from 
 you. I was in doubt, I own, and that final fen- 
 tence which determines the fate of my unbounded 
 pnffion, muft be fo fenfibly felt by me, that you 
 c mnot be in the leafl offended if I defire the re- 
 petition of it. 
 
 Ifabella. No, no; you mutt not be furprized at 
 fr.ch a fentcnce; he told you my real thoughts, 
 and I conceive them founded on reafon fufficient 
 toprovehow fmcerethey are. Yes indeed,! would 
 have it known, and I ought to be credited, that fate 
 here prefents two objects to my view, which in- 
 fpiring me with different fentiments, agitate all 
 the paffions of m y foul . One, by a reafonable choice, 
 whereto honour engages me, pofTefles all my e- 
 fteem and love; and the other, in return for his 
 afFe&ion, has all my rage and abhorrence. I am 
 delighted with the prefenceof ihe one, but thefight 
 of the other infpires my heart with fecret emoti- 
 ons of hatred and horror. I defire nothing better 
 than to be the wife of the one, but I had rather lofe 
 my life than be married to the ether. But it is 
 fufficient that I declare my real fentiments, and 
 Janpii'h too long under thefe cruel torments; the 
 pcrfon I love muft now exert his diligence to de- 
 ftroy intirely the expectations of him I hate, and 
 deliver me by a happy marriage from a punifhment 
 I dread much mere than death.
 
 136 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 Sganarel. Ay, my dearee, I intend to fatisfy 
 thy wifh.. 
 
 Ifabella. I cannot be eafy unkfs you do it. 
 
 Sganarel. You mall be fo fliortly. 
 
 Ifabella. I know it is indecent for young wo* 
 men to declare their love fo freely. 
 
 Sganarel. No,, no* 
 
 Ifabella. But thefe liberties may be allowed in 
 the condition I am at prefent; and I can, without 
 a blufh, make this tender acknowledgment to him 
 whom I already look upon as my hufband. 
 
 Sganarel. Ay, my lovely child, my foul ? s delight. 
 
 Ifabella. Then pray let him think of proving 
 his paflion for me. 
 
 Sganarel. Ay, there, kifs my hand. 
 
 Ifabella. Without further courtfhip, let him con* 
 elude a marriage, which I earneftly defire; and 
 accept the aflurance I now give himthat I will ne- 
 ver hearken to the vows of any other perfon. 
 
 [She pretends to embrace Sganarel, and gives 
 her hand to Valerc to kifs. 
 
 Sganarel. Ha, ha, my pretty-face, my amiable 
 dearee: you fhallnot pine very long, I promife you: 
 Go, fay no more. [To Valere.3 You fee fhe fpeaks 
 -freely, and loves none but me. 
 
 Vaiere. Well, madam, very well, your mean^ 
 ing is plain enough : I learn by this difcourfe what 
 it is you urge me to; and ere long, I fhall be able 
 to remove from your prefence him who is the oc- 
 cafion of fo much uneafinefs to you. 
 
 Ifabella. You cannot oblige me more agreeably^ 
 for, in fhort, the fight o,him is grievous to en- 
 dure j I hate him, and am 
 
 Sganarel. So fo.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 137 
 
 Ifabclla. Are you difpleafcd with what 1 fay? 
 Do I 
 
 Sganarel. Alas! by no means, I do not fay that; 
 but, without lying, I pity his condition, and your 
 averfion fhews itfelf too violently. 
 
 Ifabella. I cannot iliew it too much, on fuck an- 
 occafion. 
 
 Valere. Well: you fhall be fatisfied; and af- 
 ter three days never more fhall your eyes behold the 
 hated objecTt. 
 
 Ifabella. I wim it may be fo. Farewel. 
 
 Sganarel. I am very forry for you: but 
 
 Valere. Nay, you (hall hear no complaint at all! 
 from me; the lady certainly doesjuftice tousboth, 
 and I will endeavour to fatisfy her wilhes Fare- 
 wel. 
 
 Sganarel. Unhappy youth! how much he i 
 grieved! Come embrace me, for I am your fecond 
 felf. 
 
 SCENE XV; 
 
 I S A B. E L L A, SGANAREL. 
 SGANAREL. 
 
 1 THINK he is greatly to be pitied. 
 Ifabella. Pho! not at all. 
 
 Sganarel. I am greatly charmed with your love, 
 my dearee, and I wifh it was rewarded. Eight 
 days are too long to flay, confidering your impati- 
 ence ; I will rnarry you to-morrow, and will net 
 
 invite 
 
 Ifabella. To-morrow ? 
 
 Sganarel. You pretend reluctance out of mo-
 
 138 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 defty, but I know \vhatjoy my faying fo gives you, 
 and you wiih it was already ccnciiuied. 
 
 Ifabella. But 
 
 Sganarcl. Let us go prepare every thing for this 
 wedding. 
 
 Ifabclla afide.^ How mall I now, ye gods ! pre- 
 vent this fatal match ? 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 ISABELLA. 
 
 DEATH, when compared to this fatal niarri> 
 age, to which I am forced, is nothing; and 
 whatever I tlo to avoid the terrors of it, ought to 
 find fome favour with thcfe who cenfure me. Time 
 prefTes: it is night: let me therefore go boldly*: 
 and commit my fafety to the fidelity of a lover. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 S G A K A R E L, ISABELLA. 
 
 SGANAREL fpeaking to the people in the houfe.. 
 
 I AM returned, and to-morrow I will fend _ 
 Ifabella. O heaven ! 
 
 Sganarel. Is it you, njy love: "Whither do ys 
 go fo late? When 1 went out you faid you \vas 
 much fatigued, ami v.-culd fliut yourfcif up in your 
 chamber: nay, you begged that" I would let you be 
 quiet at my return, and not trouble you till to- 
 morrow morning. 
 
 Ifabella. It is truej but
 
 THC SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 1 3 O 
 
 Sganarcl. But \v hut? 
 
 Ifabc-Hu. I am perplexed, you fee, nor do I know 
 what excufe to make to you for it. 
 
 Sganarel. How fo? What can this mean? 
 Ifubella. A wonderful fecret: The reafon of my 
 going abroad at this prefent is, becaufe my fifter 
 has, with a defign for which I very much blame her, 
 defired my chamber of me, where I have (hut her 
 up. 
 
 Sga n a rel . For w h a t p u rpofe ? 
 Ifabeila. Why, this very youth whom we have 1 
 difcarded is beloved by her. 
 Sganarel. Who? Valere? 
 Ifabeila. She is defperately in love wit.h him. 
 Her corning to me at this hour of the night to dif- 
 clofe her pafTion plainly fhews how violent it is : 
 (he fays that flie {hall certainly die if me does not 
 obtain what fhe fo much defires; that their amour 
 has been carried on above a year; and that they 
 made each other mutual promifes of marriage at the 
 very beginning of their fondnefs. 
 Sganarel. A villain! 
 
 Ifabeila. That being informed to what defpair 
 I have driven the man me loves, fhe came to beg 
 I would fuffec her paffion, to prevent a feparation 
 which would much grieve J^r, and allow her to 
 entertain her gal ant this evening in my name at my 
 chamber window which looks into the little ftreet, 
 where, cc-autcr/uiting my voice, fhe may talk a 
 little kimily to him, and thereby tempt his ftay; in 
 mort, that fhe may dexteroufly manage to her own 
 advantage the regard he is known to have for me. 
 
 Sganarel. And can you imagine that 
 
 Ifabeila. For my part, lam provoked at it. What, 
 fifter, faid I, are you out of your wits ? Are you
 
 140 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 not afhamed to be thus in love with a man who is 
 inconfbnt, and changes every day ? To forget your 
 fex, and deceive the hopes of a man whom heaven 
 has appointed for you ? 
 
 Sganarel. He well defer ves it, and I am very- 
 glad of it. 
 
 Ifabella. In fhort, I ufed every method to dif- 
 fuade her from making fuch a requeft; but fhe 
 begged fo earneftly, wept and fighed to fuch a de- 
 gree, and told me that I would drive her to de- 
 fpair if I denied to gratify her paiTion, that I was 
 obliged to yield; and to jufiify this night's in- 
 trigue, which a tendernefs for my own blood made 
 me give way to, I was going to get Lucretia to 
 come and lie \with me, \vho is fo much praifed by 
 you fcr her virtue v but your fpeedy return has 
 greatly furprized me. 
 
 Sganarel. No, no, I will not have this juggling 
 at my houfe; 1 could agree to it fo far a3 it con- 
 eerns my brother, but they may be feen by forne- 
 body in the ftreet, and fhe whom I honour \vith- 
 my perfon fhould not only be modeft and well- 
 bred, but fhe muft not even be fufpeted. Let 
 us us go turn out the fhamelefs creature; and for 
 her paffion- 
 
 Ifabella. For God's fake do not do that; you 
 will greatly confound her, and me may juftly com- 
 plain how badly I can keep a fecret. As you will- 
 not allow me to countenance her defign, itayhere 
 at leaft till I let her out. 
 
 Sganarel. Well then, do fb. 
 
 Ifabella. But above all things conceal yourfelf,. 
 I befeech you, and let her go without fpeaking one 
 word to her. 
 
 Sganarel. Well, for thy fake I will reftrain my
 
 T'HE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 14! 
 
 wrath ; but as foon as fhe is gone, I will go and 
 tell the whole affair to my brother. 
 
 Ifabella. Pray do not mention my name. Good 
 night to you, for I-am going to fhut myfelf up this 
 moment. 
 
 Sganarel. Until to-morrow, dearee. [Alone. 3 
 How impatient am I to fee my brother, and in- 
 form him of this accident? The good man is bub- 
 bled, with all his wifdom, and I would not be with- 
 out this difcovery for an hundred crowns. 
 
 Ifabella in the houfe.] Yes, fifter, I am forry 
 to incur your difpleafure, but it is impoffible for 
 me to gratify you; my honour, which is dear to 
 me, runs too great a rifque by it; farewell; be- 
 gone immediately. 
 
 Sganarel. There ihe goes; (he's a fweet bag- 
 gage, I warrant ye: let us lock the door, for fear 
 flie fhould come back again. 
 
 Ifabella entering.] Defertme not, good heavens! 
 in my enterprize. 
 
 Sganarel afule.] Whither can fhe be going? I 
 *vill follow her a little. 
 
 Ifabclla afide.} The night, however, favours me 
 in my diftrcfs. 
 
 Sganarel afide.] To Valere's lodgings! What a 
 Vj)lcy is this ! 
 
 SCENE HI. 
 
 VALE RE, ISABELLA, SGANAREL. 
 
 Y 
 
 VALERE coming out haftily. 
 ES, yes, I will try fome way this very night 
 
 to fpeak Who is there ? 
 Ifabella. Softly, Valere, it is Ifabella who now
 
 142 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 fpeaks to you, therefore trouble yourfelf no far- 
 ther. " 
 
 Sganarel. You lie, huffy, it is not (lie. She 
 follows clofely thofe laws of honour -which you 
 forfake, and you affume falfely both her name and 
 voice. 
 
 Ifabella. But if I thought that you would not 
 by the moft facred ties 
 
 Valere. Indeed, that is the only purpofe of my 
 deftiny; and I here folemnly declare to you, that 
 to-morrow, I will go where-ever you pleafe to per- 
 form the ceremony. 
 
 Sganarel afide.J Poor felf-cczened fool! 
 
 Valere. Go in, and fear nothing : I now defy 
 your fantaftical guardian's power; and focner fhall 
 this arm pierce his heart, than he fhall again be 
 in poflefficn of thec. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 SGANAREL alone. 
 
 I Have not the leaft inclination, I allure you, to 
 take from you fuch a fcandalous gypfcy, en- 
 flaved to her paffion; yourpromife to her does not 
 make me jealous, and you have my free confentto 
 take her. Ay, let us catch him with this impu- 
 dent creature: the memory of her father, well wor- 
 thy of refpect, together with the great jntereft I 
 have in her fitter, requires my endeavours at lead 
 to preierve her honour. Scho! 
 
 ^Knocking at a commiliary's door.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 143 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 SGANAREL, the COMMISSARY, the. NOTARY, 
 Attendant with a Flambeau. 
 
 c o M.M i s s A R Y. 
 
 WHO is there? 
 Sganajrel. Your fervant, Mr. Comrmf- 
 iury; we want a caft of your office; pleafe to fol- 
 low me with your light. 
 
 Commiflary. We are going to 
 
 Sganarel. The affair is in great hafte. 
 
 Commiflary. What is it? 
 
 Sganarel. To go in there, and furprize two peo- 
 ple together, who mufl be honeftly married: it is 
 a girl of ours whom a youth called Valere has de- 
 ceived, and got into his houfe by promifing her 
 marriage; me is defcended from a noble and vir- 
 tuous family, but 
 
 Commiflary. If it is for that, our meeting is ve- 
 ry lucky, for here is a Notary with us. 
 
 Sganarel. Sir. 
 
 Notary. Yes, Sir, a public Notary. 
 
 Commiflary. And alfo a man of honour. 
 
 Sganarel. That is to be fuppofed. Go in at the 
 door, make no noife, but mind that no body gets 
 out : you fliall be fully fatisfied for your pains : but 
 do not futler yourfelves to be greafed in the fift 
 however. 
 
 Commiflary. How? Do you imagine that offi- 
 cers of judice 
 
 Sganarel, I do not fay it as a reflection upon 
 your office. I will fetch my brother hither this
 
 144 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 moment. Let the flambeau light me. [Afide.] 
 I will .go congratulate this Solomon. Soho. 
 
 [Knocking at Arifto's door. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 ARISTO, SGANAREL. 
 A R I S T O. 
 
 WHO knocks? Oh! brother, what brings 
 you here at this time of the night? 
 
 Sganarel. Come along, poor fuperannuated fop, 
 1 will fhew you fomething that is pretty. 
 
 Arifto. What do you mean? 
 
 Sganarel. I bring you good news. 
 
 Arifto. What is it'? 
 
 Sganarel. Where is your Leonora, pray? 
 
 Arifto. What is the reafon of your afking? She 
 is at a friend's houfe, I believe, at a ball. 
 
 Sganarel. Hey! ay, ay, follow me: you fhall 
 fee what kind of ball (he is at. 
 
 Arifto. 1 do not underftand you. 
 
 Sganarel. She now plainly maketh it appear how 
 well you have brought her up. It is cruel to be 
 conftantly finding fault; the mind is ealily won by 
 gentlenefs; and neither maids nor wives are ren- 
 dered virtuous by bolts, graces, and diftruftful 
 cares. The fex requires a little liberty, and by 
 feverity we occafion them to do amifs. She has 
 really taken her fill of it, a cunning baggage, and 
 virtue with her is grown exceeding gentle. 
 
 Arifto. I cannot in the leaft apprehend what you 
 mean by this difcourfe. 
 
 Sganarel. Come, Mr. Elder-brother of mine, it 
 is what you well defervcj and I would not for
 
 THE SCHOOL tOR HUSBANDS. 14^ 
 
 twenty piftoles, but that you fhould have this fruit 
 of your filly maxims. It is plain what efFeb oux 
 inftru&ions have produced on t\vo lifters: one 
 ihuns galants, and the other runs after them. 
 Ariiio. If you do not fpeak plainer I cannot 
 Sganarel. Why then you muft know, that her 
 ball is at Valere's, that I myfelf faw her go thither, 
 not an hour ago, and that he juft now has her 
 in his arms. 
 Arifto. Who'? 
 Sganarcl. Leonora. 
 
 Arifto. Leave off your bantering, I bcfeech you. 
 Sganarel. Bantering! it is very good to hear 
 him talk of bantering: poor foul! I tell you again 
 and again, that your Leonora is juil now with Va- 
 lere, and that they were engaged by a mutual pro- 
 mife before he thought of following Ifabclla. 
 
 Arifto. So improbable is this ftory, that 
 
 Sganarel. He will not believe it, though he fees 
 it. It makes me mad. When people are defec- 
 tive here, years avail nothing. 
 
 [Pointing to his forehead. 
 
 Arifto. Do you think, brother, that 
 
 Sganarel. No, no, only follow me, your mind 
 fhall prefently be made eafy. You fliall fee if I 
 impofe upon you, and if they have not been con- 
 tracted for more than a year pnft. 
 
 Arifto. Is it likely (he mould confent to this 
 
 engagement without apprizing me of it! me, who 
 
 always from her infancy upon every occafion have 
 
 praftifed towards her a compliance, and have times 
 
 innumerable told her that I would never force her 
 
 inclinations, but let her chufe whom fhe pleafed! 
 
 Sganarel. In fliort, your own eyes fliall judge 
 
 of the matter : 1 have already fetched a Commif- 
 
 VOL. II. G
 
 146 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 fary and a Notary, it is cur interefl that the ho- 
 nour fhe has loft fhould be repaired upon the fpct 
 i>y marrir.ge ; for I do net imagine you will be fo 
 mean-fpirited as to make her your wife with this 
 jiain upon her, unlefs you have forne new argu- 
 iv.ents topls.ce you above ridicule. 
 
 Arifto. I fhall never, I hone, be fo vrcuk, as to 
 defire to pofTefs a heart which .inclines more to a- 
 ny other perfon than to me. Neverthelefs, I can- 
 not believe 
 
 Sganarel. What a talking you make! come a- 
 long, 'this difpute would lad for ever. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 .COMMISSARY, NOTARY, SGANA- 
 REL, A R I S T O. 
 
 COMMISSARY. 
 
 F you defire that they Should be married, gen- 
 tlemen, you need make ufe of no compulfion, 
 lor they are both equally inclined to it. And, as 
 to what concerns you, Valere has given it under 
 his hand already, that he tief gns for his wife her 
 who now is with him. 
 
 Arifto. The girl 
 
 CommifTary. She is locked up, and unlefs you 
 prcmife to gratify their d-efires, will not ftir a foot.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 147 
 
 S p E N E VIII. 
 
 V A L E R E, COMMISSARY, NOTARY, 
 SGANAREL, AR1STO. 
 
 VALE RE at the window. 
 
 NOT a foul flrall enter here, gentlemen, till 
 you let me know what you want. You know 
 very well who I am, and I have done my part in 
 figning the inftrumerrt, which they may mew you : 
 if you intend to confent to the match, you muft 
 Jikcwife fet your hand to a confirmation of it; but, 
 if not, depend upon it, you mall kill me fooner 
 than take from me the object of my love. 
 
 Sganarel. Nay, we do not defign to feparate you 
 from her. [[Afide 3 He is (till ignorant who it is 
 that he has got, he thinks it is Ifabella; let us take 
 advantage of his error. 
 
 Ariilo to Valere.] Cut is that Leonora? 
 
 Sganarel to Ariflo.]] Hold your tongue. 
 
 Anflo. But 
 
 Sganarel. Be quiet. 
 
 Ariflo. I would know 
 
 Sganarel. What, again? hold your tongue, I tell 
 you. 
 
 Valc"e. In fhort, whatever be the confequencQ, 
 Ifabella has my folemn promife, as I have her's, 
 and I am not a match, confidering every thing, 
 which you fhall be admitted to difapprove. 
 
 Ariflo to Sganarel.] What he fays is not 
 
 Sganarel. Hold your .tongue: I have a rcafon 
 for it: and you fhall know the fecret. Well, with- 
 out any more ado we both agree that you are to 
 marry her who is now with you. 
 G 2
 
 *4# THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 
 
 ComrniiTary. The thing is drawn in thofe terms, 
 and a blank is left for the name, as we did not fee 
 her Come, fign, the lady will make you all agree 
 afterwards. 
 
 Valere. I confent to it in that way. 
 
 Sganarel. I am very fond of it, for my part : 
 ^Afide.J We mall have fine diverfion prefently. 
 Here, brother, you have the honour to fet your 
 name firft. 
 
 Arifto. But -why all this myftery 
 
 Sganarel. Pox take your impudence! Come, 
 fjgn your name, you fool. 
 
 Arifto. He talks of Ifabella, and you of Leo- 
 nora. 
 
 Sganarel. Do not you confent, brother, if it is 
 her, to allow them to make their nuptial promifes 
 good ? 
 
 Arifto. Certainly. 
 
 Sganarel. Sign then, and I will do fo too. 
 
 Arifto. So let it be, I do not underftand it. 
 
 Sganarel. You fhall be informed of the affair. 
 
 Commiflary. We will be back again foon. 
 
 Sganarel to Arifto.] Well, now! will tell you 
 the fubtlety of this intrigue. 
 
 They retire to the farther part of the frr.ge. 
 
 S C E N E IX. 
 
 LEONORA, SGANAREL, A R 1 S T 0. 
 L I S E T T A. 
 
 H 
 
 LEONORA. 
 
 OW I have been plagued with the im 
 pertinence of thefe ycung coxcombs'
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. 149 
 
 Tliey obliged me to flip away from the ball pri- 
 vately. 
 
 Lifetta. They all- endeavoured to make thcm- 
 felves agreeable to you. 
 
 Leonora. In fhort, I never met with any thing 
 more troublefome, and would be much happier in 
 the meaneft converfaticn, than in all their flatter- 
 ing difcourfes : they imagine all muft be given up 
 to their powdered periwigs; they think themfelves 
 the .wife ft people in the 'world, when, with a ftupid 
 tanteriug tone, they rally one in a filly manner a- 
 bout the love of an eld man:, but I let more value 
 apon the affections of fuch an old man, than all 
 the giddy raptures of a young fellow. But I fee--- 
 
 Sganarel to Arifto.]] Well, the affr.ir ftands in 
 this manner, [feeing Leonora.]] O ! yonder fhe 
 coines, attended by her maid. 
 Arifto. I am not angry, Leonoia, but have rea- 
 fon to complain : you are fenfible I never laid any 
 reftraint upon you, and have a hundred times told 
 you, that you fhould gratify your own wiflies ; and 
 notwithftanding this, your heart has engaged itfelf, 
 both by promife and affection, without my know- 
 ledge. I do not repent the indulgence 1 have gi- 
 ven you, but your behaviour affects me fenfcbly; 
 my fondnefs for you did not deferve this return. 
 
 Leonora. I do not underftand the reafon of your 
 talking in this manner; but you may be certain I 
 am the fame I ever was; nothing can leffen my c- 
 fteem for you: I fhould think it a crime to have a 
 regard for any other perfon, and if you are willing 
 to compleat my wifhes, the facred knot fliall make 
 us one to-morrow. 
 
 Arifto. Upon what foundation then, brother, 
 came you
 
 150 TE SCHOOL FOR HU.SBANDS. 
 
 SganareL What! have not you come fromVa- 
 lere's lodgings? Have ycu not been in love .with 
 him for a year pad, and declared your paflion for 
 Jhim this very day? 
 
 Leonora. Who has taken the pains to invent fitch 
 lies, and given you this account of me ? 
 
 SCENE THE LAST. 
 
 ISABELLA, VALERE, LEONORA, ARISTO, 
 SGANAREL, COMMISSARY, NOTA- 
 RY, LISETTA, ERGASTE. 
 
 ISABELLA. 
 
 I HOPE, fifter, you will forgive me freely, if by 
 the liberty I have taken I may have hurt your 
 character. I was forced into that fcandalous con- 
 trivance by the confufion the great furprize put me 
 into. Fate deals very differently with you and nve. 
 Tour example condemns my paflion. [toSganarel.]] 
 I will make no apology to you, Sir, as I am doing 
 you a piece of fervice, rather than ufing you ill. I 
 found myfelf unworthy of your love, and chofe ra- 
 ther to give myfelf to another, than prove unwor- 
 thy of fuch an heart as yours j heaven never intend- 
 ed us for each other. 
 
 Valere to SganareL] To receive her from your 
 hands, Sir, is happinefs and glory. 
 
 Arifto. Indeed, brother, nobody will be forry 
 for you, though they know you are cheated} your 
 own behaviour is the occafion of it, and .you muft 
 fubmit to it peaceably. 
 
 Lifetta. This reward of his miftruft is an ex- 
 emplary ftroke, and I am very glad of it. 
 
 Leonora. For my part, I cannot blame this ftra-
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR HUSBANDS. IJI 
 
 tp.gem ; I do not know whether it fliould be com- 
 mended or not. 
 
 Ergafle. He is :i lucky fellow to efcape being a 
 cuckold, when his ftars expofed him to the danger 
 of it. 
 
 Sganarel. P^eally I cannot recover myfelf from 
 my aftonifhment; this clevilifh trick confufes my 
 understanding: after this, he that trufts in women 
 is wretched. I believe the devil himfelf could not 
 be fo wicked as this jilt ; I thought that I could 
 have engaged rny life that fhe would never have 
 behaved fo. Women are continually hatching mif- 
 chief; they were made for a curfe to the world. 
 I give up the treacherous fex, for ever, and wifh. 
 them all at the devil heartily. 
 
 Ergafte. Well faid. 
 
 Arifto. Let us all go to my houfe. Come, Mr. 
 Valcre, to-morrow we will endeavour to appeafe 
 his rage. 
 
 Lifetta to the audience. 
 
 You who churlifh hufbands know that want mend- 
 ing* 
 Ours is the fchool to which you may fend them. 
 
 THE E N Di 
 
 G 4
 
 THE 
 
 SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 COMEDY.
 
 C 
 
 Tfo SCHOOL for WIVES, a Comedy of Five A3s? 
 aEled at Paris, at the Theatre of the Palace- 
 Roy al, December 261 r>, 1662. 
 
 AT the firft reprefentation of the SCHOOL for 
 WIVES, all Paris ilocked to Moliere's 
 Theatre; however, the immcnfe number of fpec- 
 tators could not fecure him againft feveral criti- 
 cifms being publifhcd againlt his piece, though it 
 afforded him comfort in it. So inveterate were 
 they againfl it, that they took notice of the fmall- 
 eft neglects, and exclaimed againft the flighteft 
 fault?; but the moil efllntia-1 of all was overlook- 
 ed, I mean fbme dangerous images in it, which 
 ihotild always be brrnifhed from the ftage. But if 
 we confuler only how artfully the piece is contri- 
 ved, we cannot but confefs-, that this comedy is 
 one of the mofl excellent- productions of human 
 genius. The repeated confidence which Horace- 
 places in the jealous Arnolph, who, notwithftand- 
 ir.g all his precautions, was always dup?d by a fil- 
 ly innocent young girl ; the excellent character of 
 Agnes, the humour of the under characters which 
 were chofen to attend her, together with the na- 
 tural and quick tranfition from one furprize to an- 
 other, are excellent comic productions. What di- 
 itinguifhes the SCHOOL for WIVES ftill more 
 particularly is, that the whole appears to be rehtt- 
 ed, and yet at the fame time is all in action; a 
 fpecies of comedy of which neither the ancient nor 
 modern ftages have given us the Icaft model. E- 
 very relation, by its proximity to the incident 
 which gave occafion to it, trr.ces it over ;;gain ia 
 fo lively a manner, that the hcctator thinks him- 
 G 6
 
 [ 156 J 
 
 k!i pi'tfent at it, and by a peculiar advantage which 
 the relation of this piece has over the action, we 
 enjoy the effect which the fact produces, at the 
 fame time that we learn it; for the perfon who is 
 concerned to be inftrucled learns everything which 
 there is the greateft reafon (hould be concealed 
 from him. The great refemblance which appears 
 in the SCHOOL for HUSBANDS and the SCHOOL 
 for WIVES, with regard to Sganarel and Arnolph 
 being both deceived by the very meafures they 
 took to prevent it, mud turn to Moliere*s reputa- 
 tion, who difcovered the fecret of varying what 
 appeared to be fo much alike. The fubtil ftrokes 
 of Ifabella, which fprang from no other principle 
 but the conftraint her guardian kept her under, 
 aie very different from thofe natural ones of the 
 witty Agnes,who offended againft decorums only be- 
 cnufe Arnolph had kept her in ignorance of them. 
 
 ACTORS. 
 
 ARNOLPH, otherwife Mr. dc la Souche. 
 AGNES, daughter to Henriques. 
 HORACE, lover to Agnes. 
 CHRISALDUS, Arnolph's confident. 
 HENRIOJJES, brother-in-law to Chrifaldus. 
 ORONTES, Horace's father, and a friend to 
 
 nolph. 
 
 A NOTARY. 
 
 ALLEN, a country fellow, Arnolph's man. 
 GEORGETTA, a country girl, Arnolph's maid. 
 
 SCENE PARIS, a fquare in the fuburbs.
 
 T H E 
 
 SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 ACT. I. SCENE I. 
 
 CHRISALDUS, ARNOLPH. 
 CHRISALDUS. 
 
 [OU are come to marry her, you fay? 
 
 Arnolph. Yes, to-morrow I will fi- 
 nifh the affair. 
 
 Chrifaldus. We are alone here, and 
 I dare fay, may fpeak freely, without being heard 
 by any body. Would you have me to fpeak fin- 
 cerelyasafriend ? Your intentions make me anxious 
 for you, for I think it a piece of madnefs in you 
 to marry, in whatever light you may confider it. 
 
 Arnolph. I believe it is true, my friend. Pro- 
 bably your own experience makes you apprehenfive 
 for me; perhaps your brows make you imagine, 
 that matrimr 4 y and horns are infeparable. 
 
 Chrifaldus. .Accidents of that fort nobody can 
 avoid, and it appears to me very foolifh for people
 
 I$8 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 to be fo careful about it. My uneafmefs for you; 
 is on account of the raillery which a thoufand huf- 
 bands indure the fting of. You know very well 
 that every body fu filers by your reflexions, and to 
 exclaim againflfecretintrigues, has been yourgreat- 
 eft delight in every place you go. 
 
 Arnolph. Very well. Are hu (bands fo tame 
 any where as in this city ? We fee them of every 
 degree treated at home withdifrefpecl:. Oneheaps 
 up riches, which his wife can difpofe of to a per- 
 fon who is endeavouring to make a cuckold of him; 
 another, not lefs infamous, but more eafy, fees his 
 wife accept of prefents every day, and is not in the 
 leaft uneafy, as (he tells him it is ont of lefpecl for 
 her virtue. One makes a great buftle, which ferves. 
 but to little purpofe : another, quite eafy, fees the 
 fpark vifit at his houfe, walks out, and lets affairs 
 taketheir courfe. One wife, with female cunning, 
 pretends to make a confident of her faithful huf- 
 band, who fleeps quietly under the delufion, pity- 
 ing the poor galant for giving himfelf the trouble 
 which anfwers his intentions. Another, to a- 
 void the appearance of extravagance, pretends the 
 money fhe expends is won at play, and the poor 
 weak hufband returns God thanks for it, without 
 fufpeHng at what game fhe wins it. In fhort, you 
 will find thefe fubje&s of ridicule every where, and 
 may not I as a looker on laugh at them ? May not 
 I amongft our fools 
 
 Chrifaldus. Very true ; but he who makes a jeft 
 .of another, may be afraid of being laughed at him- 
 felf. I hear what the people fay, how they amufe 
 themfelves with tattling things that happen; but 
 whatever is difcovered in places where I am, no 
 bouy ever heard me rejoice at them. I am clofe
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. I 5-9 
 
 enoHgh in that refpel; and if I happened on ihefe 
 occafions to think certain degrees of forbearance 
 wrong, and my intention were not to fufler what fome 
 hufbands bear quietly, yet I never attempted to fay 
 this; for after all, it is to be dreaded that fatire 
 will come home, and a perfon fhould never fay 
 pofitively that he would do fo and fo, in fuch a 
 cafe. By which means, if fate fhould deftine my 
 brows toadifgrace of that fort, my behaviour would 
 induce people to pity me, or, at lead, privately to 
 laugh at me. But, my dear friend, your cafe 
 would differ widely, and I really think you run a 
 very great rilk, as you have always been ready to 
 ridicule tame hufbands. In fhort, you have been 
 a devil let loofe upon them, and to jrvoid being a 
 fubjeft of jcfl, you muft walk upright indeed: if 
 they get the fmalleft hold of you, they will make 
 
 your fhamepublic, even atthemarket-crofs. And 
 
 Arnolph. Alas! friend, do not give yourfelf a- 
 ny trouble about that point. He muft be very 
 cunning indeed who catches me. The perfon I 
 am to marry is fo innocent, that my forehead can- 
 not be in any danger. I know all the artful con- 
 trivances, and the ftratagems they fall upon to plant 
 horns upon us. 
 
 Chrifaldus. Hey, what do you pretend? that a 
 
 a fool, in one word : 
 
 Arnolph. A perfon is no fool, to marry an ig- 
 norant wife. I believe, as a good chriftian, your 
 other half to be very wife, but an artful wife is a 
 very bad prcfage,andlam fenfible what certain peo- 
 ple have loft by marrying women with great abili- 
 ties. Shall I plague myfelf with the care of a 
 witty wife, who loves to talk of nothing but the 
 ring and the drawing room ? who can write ten-
 
 l6o THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 der things both in verfe and profe ? who is vifited 
 by the marquifes and the wits, while I, under the 
 name of the lady's hufband, am like a faint, whom 
 nobody calls upon? No, no, none of your high 
 flown genius's for me; a woman who writes, 
 underftands more than flie fhould do. I intend 
 mine with fo little of the fublime in her, that fhe 
 fliall be ignorant what rhime is. If one happen 
 to play at thebaflcet with her, and in one's turn alk 
 her, what is put into it? Let her anfwer be, a 
 cream-tart. In fhort, I would chufe to have her 
 very ignorant: to fay the truth, it is enough if fhe 
 can love me, know how to few, fpin, and fay her 
 prayers. 
 
 Chrifaldus. Then your choice would be a flu- 
 pid wife ? 
 
 Arnolph. I would prefer an ugly fool to a hand- 
 fome wit. 
 
 Chrifaldus. And wit 
 
 Arnolph. Virtue is enough. 
 
 Chrifaldus. After all, a fool may not know what 
 it is to be virtuous; and I mould think it very in- 
 fipid to live all one's life with a fool. To be fe- 
 rious, even that will not fecure one from horns: 
 a fenfible woman may deviate from her duty, but 
 ihe muft do it knowingly, whereas a fool, with- 
 out ever thinking of it, may fail in the common 
 courfe of her's. 
 
 Arnolph. I will anfwer as Pantagruel did to 
 Panurgus, to this fine argument. Endeavour to 
 prevail upon me to marry a wealthy woman, and talk 
 from January to June, when you are done you will 
 be amazed, that all your advice is to no purpofe. 
 
 Chrifaldus. I will fay no more to you on that 
 fubjea.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. l6t 
 
 Arnolph. Everyone to his own way. In a wile, 
 as in other things, I will follow my own humour. 
 I have money enough, and can afford to marry a 
 woman that has nothing, whofe dependence upon 
 me will prevent her from reproaching me either 
 with her birth or fortune. When I firil faw her 
 amongft the children, her grave and mild look in- 
 ipired me with a love for her, though flie was then 
 but four years old. Her mother was in a very k>w 
 itation, and I thought I would beg her from her; 
 and the good woman very readily gave up her charge. 
 I had her brought up at a little convent, according 
 to my own directions, diftant from all company. 
 I defired them to ufe all their endeavours to make 
 her as great an idiot as they could. Thank hea- 
 ven they fucceedecl to my vvifh, and as flie grew 
 up, I found her filly, and was thankful for it. I 
 brought her home, but as my houfe is always open 
 to a hundred forts of people, (precaution being al- 
 ways neceflary) I have her placed out of the way 
 in this other houfe, that her agreeable difpofition 
 may not be fpoiled by people who come to vifit me: 
 I have no body near her but people as ignorant as 
 herfelf. You will be furprized at my troubling 
 you with fo long a ftory, but it is to acquaint you 
 
 with the care I have taken And! invite you 
 
 this evening, as a faithful friend, to fup with her: 
 obferve her well, and you will certainly approve my 
 choice. 
 
 Chrifaldus. I will. 
 
 Arnolph. And by this converfation you will 
 judge of both her innocence and perfon. 
 
 Chrifaldus. As to that article, what you have 
 told me cannot 
 
 Arnolph. The defcription I give you, is even
 
 162 THE SCHOOL FOR V/IVES. 
 
 ihort of the truth. Her fimplicity on alloccr.fi- 
 ons is admirable; I am often i ike to die with laugh- 
 ing at fome queflions (he afks. The other day, 
 (could you fuppofe it?) ilie was imeafy, and with 
 an ignorance which nothing can equal, came to 
 afk me if children come into the world by the 
 car. 
 
 Chri'faldus. Itgivesmepleafure, Mr. Arnolph 
 
 Arnolph. How ! Will you always give me that 
 name ? 
 
 Chrifaldus. I really cannot avoid it, -it comes al- 
 ways into my mouth, and I never think of Mr. de 
 la Souche. What the deuce has put it into your 
 head to change your name, at forty-two years of 
 age; to take a title from an eld rotten flump be- 
 longing to your fV.rm ? 
 
 Arnolph. Befides the houfc being known by 
 that name, h Souche. is a more agreeable name to 
 me. 
 
 ChrifalJus. It is fhameful to give up the name 
 of one's anceftors, to take another founded on fan- 
 cy; and yet it is the whim of a great many peo- 
 ple, without mentioning you. I know a country 
 fellow, named fat Peter, who had only a quarter 
 r f an acre of land, he made a muddy ditch round 
 it, and afTumed the name of Mr. de L'Ifle. 
 
 Arnolph. Repeat none of thofe inflances : if you 
 call me by any other came than la Souche, you 
 will difoblige me; I have apleafure in it, and will 
 be called fo. 
 
 Chrifaldus. Few people will fubmii to it, and 
 I ftill fee the directions of your letters 
 
 Arnolph. From thofe who are not acquainted 
 with it I bear it eafily, but for you 
 
 Chrifaldus. Be it fo. We fliall not differ about
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. I 6 J 
 
 that; I will accuitom myfelf to fay Mr. de h 
 Souche. 
 
 Arnolpb. Farewel. I knock here only to fay 
 good -morrow, and acquaint them that I am re- 
 turned. 
 
 Chrifaldus afide, going away.] Really I think 
 him an accompiiflied fool. 
 
 Arnolph alone.] He is a little touched astofome 
 particular things. It is furprizing to fee how much 
 every man is wedded to his own opinion ! 
 
 [Knocking at his door.] Soho- 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 ARNOLPH, ALLEN and GEORGETTA 
 
 in the houfe. 
 
 ALLEN. 
 
 WHO is there? 
 Arnolph. Open the door, fjafide.] They 
 will be very well pleafed to fee me, I fuppofe, af- 
 ter ten days abfence. 
 
 Allen. Who knocks ? 
 
 Arnolph. I. 
 
 Allen. Georgetta. 
 
 Georgetta. "Well. 
 
 Allen. Open the door below there. 
 
 Georgetta. Do it yourfelf. 
 
 Allen. You go do it. 
 
 Georgetta. I will not go,, indeed. 
 
 Allen. Nor will I go. 
 
 Arnolph. A pretty fort of ceremony, while I 
 am (landing without! Soho, foho there; pray 
 
 Georgetta. Who knocks at the door? 
 
 Arnolph. Your matter.
 
 164 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 G'eorgetta. Allen. 
 
 Allen. What do ye fay ? 
 
 Georgetta, It is my mafter. Open the dcor 
 immediately. 
 
 Allen. Do you open it. 
 
 Georgetta. I am blowing the fire. 
 
 Allen. I cannot ftir, left my fparrow fhould ger 
 eut, and the cat eat it. 
 
 Arnolph. Which ever of you two will not open 
 the door, fhall not have a bit of vi&uals for above 
 thefe four days. 
 
 Georgetta. What occafion have you to come, 
 when I am going ? 
 
 Allen. Why you more than I? A fine contri- 
 vance truly! 
 
 Georgetta. Stand out of the way. 
 
 Allen. I will not, ftand you out of the way. 
 
 Georgetta. I will open the door. 
 
 Allen. And I will open it. 
 
 Georgetta. You (hall not open it.. 
 
 Allen. No more fhall you 
 
 Georgetta. Nor you. 
 
 Arnolph. I had need have great patience here. 
 
 Allen entering ] However, it is mybufinefs, Sir. 
 
 Georgetta entering.] I am your fervant for that; 
 it is mine. 
 
 Allen. Was it not out of refpel to my mafler 
 here, I'd 
 
 Arnolph receiving a blow from Allen.]] Plague! 
 
 Allen. I beg your pardon. 
 
 Arnolph. See that loggerhead there. 
 
 Allen. She is fo too, Sir 
 
 Arnolph* Hold your tongues, and mind what I 
 am going to fay to you. How are all here? 
 
 Allen. Why Sir, we we [Arnolph pulls ofT
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. -165 
 
 Allen's hat three times.] Sir, we we are thank 
 
 God we we 
 
 Arnolph. Foolifh blockhead, who taught you 
 to talk to me with your hat upon your head ? 
 
 Allen. You do well, Sir, I was in the wrong. 
 
 Arnolph to Allen, j Tell Agnes to come down 
 to me. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 ARNO-LPH, GEORGETTA. 
 ARNOLPH. 
 
 WHEN I was away did (he appear melan- 
 choly? 
 
 Georgetta. Melancholy? No. 
 Arnolph. No ! 
 Georgetta. Yes, yes. 
 
 Arnolph. Why then 
 
 Georgetta. Yes fne was; fhe expected you every 
 .moment, and never a horfe, mule, or afs-pafled by 
 which me did not take for you. 
 
 S C E N E IV. 
 
 ARNOLPH, ACNES, ALLEN, GEOR- 
 GE T T A. 
 
 ARNOLPH. 
 
 HER work in her hand is a good fign 
 Well, Agnes, are you glad to fee me come 
 back again ? 
 
 Agnes, Yes, Sir, thank heaven. 
 
 Arnolph. And I too am glad to fee you again.
 
 I 66 THE SCHOCOL f<">R WIVES. 
 
 Your face plainly fhews you have been well fm'ce 
 I went from home. 
 
 Agnes. Fleas have difturbed me very much in 
 the night. 
 
 Arnojph. O, in a little time you fhall have fome 
 body to catch them for you. 
 
 Agnes. You will do me a kindncfs. 
 
 Arnolph. So I can eafily imagine. What are 
 you about there ? 
 
 Agnes. I am making myfelf feme head-clothes. 
 Your night-fhirts and caps are done. 
 
 Arnolph. Very well, go up flairs again, I will 
 be with you prefently, and will difcourfe with you 
 about fome affairs of confequence. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 ARNOLPH alone. 
 
 THIS modefl and virtuous ignorance farfur- 
 pafles all your knowledge, your romances, your 
 verfts, and your love-letters, ye learned ladies, and 
 heroines of the age. One ought not to be tempt- 
 ed by riches; and provided a girl be virtuous 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 HORACE, ARNOLPH. 
 ARNOLPH. 
 
 'HO is this I fee? Is it hs? Ay. lam 
 miftaken. No, no. But it is. Nay, 
 
 it is he himfelf. Hor 
 
 Horace. Mr. Ar 
 Arnolph. Horace. 
 Horace, Araolph.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 167 
 
 Arnolph. O, joy extreme! How Jong have you 
 been here? 
 
 Horace. Nine days. 
 
 Arnolph. Really 
 
 Horace. As foon as I came I went to your 
 houfe, but you was net 10 be found. 
 Arnolph. I was in the country. 
 Horace. Ay, you had been gone two days. 
 Arnolph. What an alteration a few years make 
 in children ! I am furprized to find him grown fo, 
 after having known him when lie was io little. 
 Horace. You fee how it is. 
 Arnolph. But, pray, how does my dear friend 
 Orontes your father, whom I refpeft and revere? 
 Is he hearty ftill ? He knows I bear a part in every 
 thing which concerns him; it is four years fince we 
 faw each other, and a letter has not palled between 
 us all that time. 
 
 Horace. He is even heartier than we are, Mr. 
 Arnolph : I have got a letter for you from him : 
 but by another fince he fends me word of his own 
 coming, though I am yet ignorantof the rcafon of 
 it. Do you know who of your townfmen it fhould 
 be, that is upon h-is return hither with immenfe 
 riches, which he has been fourteen years acquiring 
 in the Weft-Indies ? 
 
 Arnolph. No. Did you hear his name? 
 Horace. Henriques. 
 Arnolph. No. 
 
 Horace. My father fpeaks to me of him and his 
 return, as if I was perfectly acquainted with him; 
 and writes me word they are fetting out together 
 upon an important affair, which his letter does not 
 mention. 
 
 [Giving Orcntes's letter to Arnolph.
 
 l68 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 Arnolph. I (ball certainly be extremely glad t 
 fee him, and will do every thing in my power to 
 entertain him. [After having read the letter.^ 
 Letters amongftfriends fhouldbelefs ceremonious ; 
 all thefe compliments are fuperfluous; you might 
 freely have ufed my fortune, without his taking the 
 pains to write to me on that fcore. 
 
 Horace. T am one who take people at their word: 
 and I have juft now occafion for an hundred pif- 
 toles. 
 
 Arnolph. Why really you oblige me in making 
 ufe of me in this manner, and I am glad I have got 
 them ready for you; take purfe and all. 
 
 Horace. It muft 
 
 Arnolph. Let us talk about fomething elfe, and 
 drop this difcourfe. Well, what do you think of 
 this city? 
 
 Horace. Its inhabitants are numerous, its build- 
 ings very magnificent, and I believe itsdiverfions 
 admirable. 
 
 Arnolph. Every man has his pleafures fuitable 
 to his tafie; but as for thofe people, who go un- 
 der the name of galants, they have all they can de- 
 fire in this country; for the women are made for 
 coqucttry, you will find them of gentle temper, 
 both the fair and the brown, and the hufbam's are 
 withal the moftcomplaifant creatures you ever faw. 
 It is an entertainment for a king, itisa meer comedy 
 to me to fee the pranks 1 do. You have perhaps al- 
 ready fmitten fomc-body. Have you had no luck 
 yet? people formed like you are of more value 
 than gokl; you are of a fiiape to be a cuckold- 
 maker. 
 
 Horace. Why, to tell you the truth, I have had
 
 i HE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 169 
 
 'here a certain lev: adventure, and I am obliged 
 in friendfliip to acquaint you with it. 
 
 Arnolph afide.] Very well, here is fome new 
 waggifh ftory to minute down in my pocket-book. 
 
 Horace. However, I beg you would not tell it 
 to any body. 
 
 Arnolph. Oh! 
 
 Horace. You are not ignorant that onthefeoc- 
 cafions, if a fecret gets air it fruftratcs all our de- 
 figns. I will freely tell you then, that my heart 
 is captivated by a certain young lady in this city. 
 My fmall endeavours have immediately had fo 
 much fuccefs, that 1 have obtained a free admit- 
 tance to her; and Avithout boafting of myfclf too 
 much, or in the leafl injuring her, my affairs with 
 her are in a mighty gnocl pofture. 
 
 Arnolph laughing. J Ha, ha, who is it? 
 
 Horace pointing to Agnes's lodging.] A very 
 charming young creature, who lives in that brick 
 houfe there. Simple indeed (lie is, through the 
 matchlefs felly of a man who flints her up from 
 ail company, but amidft that ignorance to which 
 he would enilavc her, flic difplays charms that 
 would throw one into raptures; an air moil enga- 
 ging, and I know not what of tcndernefs, which 
 no heart is pro'v'f again/!. But, perhaps you have 
 often fcen this young fhir of love, adorned with 
 fuch ntrmberlefs perfections. Agnes is her name. 
 
 Arnolph afide.J Oh! I burft. 
 
 Horace. As for the man, it is Ithink la ZouiTe, 
 or Source, that they call him ; no matter which 
 lie is rich by what they told me, but not over- 
 wife. They talked to me of him as a ridiculous 
 fellow. Are you acquainted with him? 
 
 Arnolph afidc/] A bitter pill! 
 
 VOL. II. H
 
 I7O THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 Horace. Why do not you an Twer? 
 
 Arnolph. O, ay 1 know him. 
 
 Horace. He is a fool, is not he? 
 
 Arnolph. Heh 
 
 Horace. How now? what do you fay to it? 
 Heh! that means yes. Ridiculoufly jealous: Fool? 
 1 find he is jufl as I was told. In fhort, the love- 
 ly Ag-nes has made a conqueft of me; to tell you 
 the tr.uth, flic is a lovely creature, and it would be 
 a fin to let a beauty fo extraordinary remain in the 
 power. of this fantallical old fellow. For my part, 
 Jl my endeavours, .all my moll paffionate wifhes 
 are, to make hermine, notwithstanding this jealous 
 wretch ; and the money I was fo free to borrow of 
 you, is for no other purpofe but to bring about this 
 laudable enterprife. You know better than I, 
 that money docs every thirgin fuch undertakings; 
 and that it procures the viclory in love as well as 
 war. But methinks you do not fcem pleafed : 
 does my fcheme difplcafe you? 
 
 Arnolph. No, I was confidering 
 
 Horace. You are tired with this conveifation: 
 Farewell. I will come prefently to your houfe, to 
 thrnk you, 
 
 Arr.olph thinking hunftlf alone.]] What ! muft 
 if 
 
 Horace jcoming back.^ Once more, I beg you 
 vould take care, and not let any one know what 
 I have been faying to you. 
 
 Arnolph thinking himfdf alonej What my 
 foul now feels 
 
 Horace coming back.] Efpecially my father, 
 who would perhaps be angry at it. 
 
 Ar.iolph thinking he will come back again.] 
 Oh! [alone.] Qh! what Jiave I fuffered during
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. IJl 
 
 this difcourfe ! never was any body fo vexed as I 
 have been! With what imprudence and what ex- 
 tremehaftehe came to give an account of this bu- 
 finefs to me myfelf ! Though myothername keeps 
 him in an error, yet did ever any hair-brains run 
 on fo furioufly? but having fuffcred fo much, I 
 fhould have been more peaceable, till I had difco- 
 vered what I have reafon to apprehend ; I fhould 
 have encouraged his foolifh babbling, by which I 
 might thoroughly have informed myfelf of what is 
 carrying on privately between them. I will en- 
 deavour to join him again, he is not got far, I be-. 
 lieve, and get out of him the whole fecret of this 
 matter. I tremble for fear of the misfortune that 
 may befal me by fo doing; we often feek after 
 what we would not find. 
 
 A C T II. S C E N E I. 
 
 A R N L P H . 
 
 MY miffing the way he went is really very 
 lucky, for I do not think I could have 
 concealed my perturbr.rion cf mind, which I am 
 not -willing he ihould know at prefent. But I am 
 rot a man that can put up this matter, and leave 
 the fpark at liberty to purfue his defign. I am 
 refolved to fruftrate it, and be informed 'how matr 
 ters have been carried on between them, I taki 
 it, that my honour is deeply concerned therein: 
 as the cafe Hands, I confider her as a wife already. 
 I (hall be blamed, and no one elfe, for whatever 
 
 H 2
 
 I 72 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 {he does amifs. O wretched journey! unhappy 
 abfence ! 
 
 [Knocking at the door. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 ARNOLPK, ALLEN, GXORGETTA. 
 ALLEN. 
 
 AH! Sir, this time 
 Arnolph. Bequiet. Come hither both of 
 ye: That way, that way. Ccmealong, come along, 
 I fay. 
 
 Georgetta. Ah! you frighten me ! my blood 
 runs chill in my veins! 
 
 Arnolph. Is this the way you have obeyed me 
 in my abfence ? and have you Beth betrayed me 
 by agreement? 
 
 Georgetta falling at Arnolph's feet.JOh! pray, 
 Sir, do not eat me. 
 
 Allen afide.] I am certain fome mad dog lias 
 bit him. 
 
 Arnolph afide.] Ugh ! I cannot fpeak I came 
 fo fail, I am flifled; would 1 could throw off ail 
 my clothes. [To Allen and Geoigetta.j Ye fcafe 
 vipers, you have fufrcred a man to come then, 
 have ye What, v/ould you run away ? Yen mud 
 this inflant if you Par I willhave you tell me. 
 Ugh! Ay, I willhave you both S'death! ilir 
 rot a foot, elfe I will kill you How csrne that 
 nan into my houfe? lieh! fpeak, [panting.] 
 rrake hafle, quick, difpatch, in a moment, without 
 cuifidering; will ye tell me? 
 
 Allen and Georgetta. Oh! Oh! 
 
 Georgetta falling at Arnolph's feet.J I fwoon.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 173 
 
 Allen falling at Arnolph's fect.l I die. 
 
 Arnolph afidc.j I am all over in a fweat: Let 
 me breathe a little. I muft walk and ccol my- 
 feif. Could I have imagined when I faw him a 
 little one, that he would grow up for this.' Hea- 
 vens! \vrut my heart endures! It would be bet- 
 ter I think to draw from her own mouth by kind 
 ufage an account of what concerns me. Let me 
 try to nTv'.erate my paffion. Softly, my he art, 
 be -;otin fuch a flutter. |~ To Allen and Georget- 
 ta. 1 Rife, get ye in, and tell Agnes to come to 
 me. Stay. [~Afi;le.]] They will go tell her the 
 uneafinefs I am under, and me will be the Jefs 
 furprifed. I will fetch her out myfelf. [_To Al- 
 len and Georgetta. ^ Wait here for me. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 ALLEN, G GORGE T T A . 
 GEORGE T T A. 
 
 WHAT a frightful look he has! I never 
 faw a man appear fo terrible. 
 Allen. That gentleman has angered him, I told 
 you fo. 
 
 Georgetta. I cannot imagine what makes bin; 
 conceal our young lady fo much, and will not let 
 her fee any company. 
 
 Allen. It is becaufe this affair makes him jea- 
 lous. 
 
 Georgetta. But how comes this fancy into his 
 head? 
 
 Allen. It comes it comes, becaufe he is jea- 
 lous. 
 
 H 3
 
 4 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 Georgctta. Ay, but what makes him fo? and 
 
 ion 
 
 *w hy this paffi 
 
 Allen. It is becaufe jealoufy . . . do ye under - 
 ftand me right, Georgetta? is athing which makes 
 people uneafy and drives them all round the 
 houfe. I will give you a companion, that you 
 may conceive it better. Now tell me llncerely, 
 when you have gota mefs of porridge, if fomegree- 
 uy gut fhould come to eat it from you, would it 
 not vex you, and make you ready to beat him? 
 
 Georgetta. Ah, I underftand that. 
 
 Allen. It is juft in the fame manner. Wo- 
 man really is a man's porridge; and when a man 
 fees other people endeavouring to dip their fin- 
 gers in his porridge, he flies immediately into a 
 rage. 
 
 Georgetta. Ay ; but why does not every body 
 do fo alike ? What is the reafon that fome huf- 
 bands appear pleafed, when their wives are in com- 
 pany with fine gentlemen ? 
 
 Allen. Becaufe every body has not this glut- 
 tenous love, that would keep all to itfelf. 
 
 Georgetta. If my eyes are not dazzled, I fee 
 him coming. 
 
 Allen. Your eyes are good: it is he. 
 
 Georgetta. Obferve howpenfivehe is. 
 
 Allen. He is very much vexed juft now. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 ARNOLPII, ALLEN, GEORGETTA. 
 
 T 
 
 A R N L P H afhle. 
 
 HE emperor Auguftus was told by a cer- 
 tain Greek, as a maxim eqvally reafonabk
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 175 
 
 and ufeful, that when we happened to be put in a 
 paffion by any accident, we fhould firft of all repeat 
 the alphabet ; tint in the mean while our anger 
 n;ay abate, and we may do nothing which we ought 
 not to do. I have purfued this advice w it'll regard 
 to Agnes, and I have brought her on purpofe hi- 
 ther, under pretence of ticking a walk, in order 
 that 'the fufpicions of my difordered mind may 
 artfully bring this ciifcourfe about fo as to dive in- 
 to her heart, and clear up the matter gently. 
 
 S C E N E V. 
 
 A R K O L P II, A G N E S } A L L E N, G E O R C E T Tl, 
 A R N O L PH. 
 
 COME, Agnes. [To Allen and Gcorgetta.] 
 Get ye in. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 JIRNOLPH, AGNES-- 
 A R NOL P H. 
 
 IT is fine walking. 
 Agnes. Very fine. 
 Arnolph. A delightful day! 
 Agnes. Indeed it is. 
 Arnolph. What news have ye? 
 Agnes. The little cat is dead. 
 Arnolph. That is a great pity; but we are all 
 mortal, and every one for himfelf. Had you any 
 rain when 1 was in the country? 
 Agnes. No. 
 
 Arnolph. Were you not tired ? 
 H 4
 
 176 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 Agnes. I never am tired. 
 
 Arnolph. But what have you employed ycurfclf 
 with thefe nine or ten clays? 
 
 Agnes. I have made fix fliirts, I think, r.nd 
 likewife fix caps. 
 
 Arnolph having mufed a while. ~\ This is a 
 ftrange world we live in, my dear Agnes. Ob- 
 ferve how fcandalcus people are! I have been told 
 by fome of the neighbours, that when I was from 
 home v you fuffered a young man to come to my 
 houfe, to fee and talk with you. But I gave no 
 credit to thefe flandering tongues, and would have 
 laid a wager it was falfe 
 
 Agnes. Lack-a-day, do net lay, you will certain- 
 ly lofe. 
 
 Arnolph. What! was there really a man 
 
 Agnes. It was really fo. He fcarce ftirred out 
 of our houfe, I will fwear. 
 
 Arnolph afidej That fhe is not in jeft, this 
 iincere declaration plainly fhews. [Aloud.] But, 
 methinks, Agnes, if I remember right, I forbad 
 your feeing any body. 
 
 Agnes. Yes: but although I faw him, you are 
 ignorant of the reafon of it. Had you been in my 
 place, you would certainly have done the fame. 
 
 Arnolph. That may be; but, in iliort, tell me 
 how this matter was. 
 
 Agnes. It is very amazing, and I dare fay you 
 will hardly believe it . As I was working in the 
 balcony one fine day, I faw a well-made young 
 man pafs along under the treejuft by, who obferv- 
 ing that I looked at him, immediately bowed to 
 me very refpe&fully : I, in civility, not to be be- 
 hind hand with him, returned him a courtfy. He 
 foon bowed to me again, I took care to make him
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 177 
 
 another curtfy: and he bowing to me a third time, 
 I alfo anfwCred with a third curtfy. He walked 
 to and iro, making me every time the handfomeil 
 bow imaginable, and I, who looked at him ear- 
 neftly all the while, made him as many curtfies: 
 fo that if night had not come on, I ihould ftill 
 have continued in that manner, being unwilling to 
 give over, or to lie under the difiatisfactionof hav- 
 ing him imagine, that I was not fo complaifant 
 as he. 
 
 Arnolph. Very well. 
 
 Agnes. The next day, as I was {landing at the 
 door, there came an old woman up to me, who 
 thus fpoke: May heaven long preferve thee i all 
 thy beauty, my child, and pour forth its bleflings 
 upon thee! Becaufe it has made thee fo lovely,thou 
 art not therefore to mifemploy its gifts; know 
 therefore, that thou haft wounded an heart, which 
 now is obliged to complain of it, 
 
 Arnolph afide,] Ah! agent of the devil! damn- 
 ed curfed jade! 
 
 Agnes, l! have I wounded any body? replied 
 I, very much furprized. Wounded! Ay, thou 
 haft wounded him indeed, cries {he; and it is the 
 gentleman thou fawefl from the balcony yefterday. 
 Alas! fays I, how could I pofiibly do it? Did I 
 throw anything down upon- him carelefiy? No, 
 replies me, thine eyes have given the fctal ftroke, 
 and all his hurt proceeds from their glances, Alas! 
 fays I, you furprize me much; can my eyes hurt 
 any body? Ay, daughter, cries (lie, thine cy_5 
 have a deadly poifon in them which thou doft net 
 know of. In a word, the poor v; retch is languiih- 
 ing away, and if fo be, continues the charitableold 
 woman, thy cruelty refnfes him ^(Tiftance, he Avill 
 II 5
 
 178 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 be a dead man in two days time, Blefs me! I 
 fhould be very forry for ir, fays I; but what af- 
 fiftance does he require of me! my child, cries (lie, 
 he only rcquefts the happinefs of feeing thee, and 
 talking to thee: thine eyes alone are able to pre- 
 vent his ruin, and remedy the mifchief they have 
 produced. Good lack! fays I, with all my heart, 
 and fmce it is fo, he may come and fee me as often 
 as he chufes 
 
 Arnolph afide,] O curfed forcerefs! may heil 
 reward thy charitable wiles! 
 
 Agnes. He therefore came, faw me, and was* 
 ci ; rcd Do not you youifeJf think now, that I 
 adled but reafonably in doing fo? and after all, 
 could I have the conference to lethim die for want 
 of help? I who am fo full cf pity for thofe that 
 i'ufFer, that I cannot forbear crying when a chick- 
 en dies? 
 
 Arnolph afide foftly.] All this is only theef- 
 fetl of an innocent mind; and 1 mud blame my 
 own indifcreet abfence for it, which left this per- 
 fect goodnefs expofed to the defigas of artful fedu- 
 cers, without any ad\ifer. I fear the rafcal, by 
 his impudent pretences, has carried the matter 
 fomewhat beyond a jeft. 
 
 Agnes, What is the matter? methinks you are 
 a little out of humour. Is it that i did amifs in 
 what I told you? 
 
 Arnolph. No. But tell me what followed upon 
 this interview, and in what manner the young 
 man behaved in his vifits, 
 
 Agnes, Lack-a-day! did you but know how he 
 was tranfported, how foon his illnefs left him 
 when he faw me, the prefent he has made me of a 
 
 _ne calket, and the money our Allen andGeorget- 
 n
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 179 
 
 ta have had of him, you would certainly be in love 
 with him, and fay as we do. 
 
 Arnolph. Well, but when you was alone with 
 him, what did he do? 
 
 Agnes, He faid he loved me with an unequal- 
 lei patlion, and told me in the fineft language in 
 the world, things tjhat nothing ever can come up 
 to; the agreeablenefs whereof delighted me ever/ 
 time I heard him fpeak, and raifed within me a 
 certain inexpreilible emotion, with which I Wiis 
 vaftly delighted. 
 
 Arnolph afidej O tormenting enquiry into a 
 fatal fecret, where the enquirer only fuffers all the 
 pain ! ^Aloud.J Befides all this talk, all thefe 
 pretty ways, did not he kifs you too? 
 
 Agnes. Yes h did, moft lovingly! he took my 
 hands and arms, and was never weary of kifling 
 them. 
 
 Arnolph. Did he take nothing elfe from you, 
 Agnes? (^Seeing her at a lofs.J Hah! 
 
 Agnes. Why, he did 
 
 Arnolph. What? 
 
 Agnes. Take 
 
 Arnolph. How! 
 
 Agnes. The 
 
 Arnolph. What do you mean ? 
 
 Agnes, I dare not tell you; for perhaps you will 
 be angry with me. 
 
 Arnolph. No, I will not. 
 
 Agnes. Yes but you wiil. 
 
 Arnolph. Indeed I will not. 
 
 Agnes. Swear faith then. 
 
 Arnolph. Well, faith. 
 
 Agnes. He took You will be in a paffioif. 
 
 Arnolph. No. 
 
 II 6
 
 l8o THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 Agnes. Yes. 
 
 Arnolph. No, no, no, no: What the deuce do 
 you mean? What did he take from you? 
 
 Agnes. He 
 
 Arnolph afide/J I fuffer damnation. 
 
 Agnes. Well then, to tell you the truth, he 
 took away the ribbon you gave me, but I could 
 not help it. 
 
 Arnolph recovering himfelf.J No matter for 
 the ribbon. But I want to know whether he did 
 nothing but kifs your hands. 
 
 Agnes. Why! do people do other things? 
 
 Arnolph. No, no. But did not he defire of you 
 fome other remedy to cure the diforder he faid 
 had feized him ? 
 
 Agnes. He did not, but if he had, I fhould have 
 given anything to do him good. 
 
 Arnolph afide.[] Heaven's goodnefs be praifed, 
 I am come cheaply oil". If I fail into the like mif- 
 take again, I will confent to be ill ufed. fJAloud.j 
 Peace, it is an effect of your innocence, Agnes : I 
 will fay no more of it: What is done is done. I 
 am fenfible that by flattering you, the fpark only 
 wants to impofe upon you, and afterwards to laugh 
 at you. 
 
 Agnes. Oh, no, he told me fo above twenty 
 times. 
 
 Arnolph. You ought not to believe him. It is 
 committing a great fin to acceptof cafkets, and hear- 
 ken to thofe powdered beaux, to fuffer them, in a 
 languifhingtone, to kifs your hands and charm your 
 heart in this manner. 
 
 Agnes. Do you call it a fin ? For what reafon, 
 pray? 
 
 Arnolph. For what reafon? Why the reafon is,
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. l8l 
 
 becaufe it is declared that heaven is offended at 
 fuch doings. 
 
 Agnes. Offended! But why (bould it be offen- 
 ded? Alas! it is fo fweet, fo pleafant! I admire 
 at the delight one finds in it, and was ignorant of 
 thefe things before. 
 
 Arnolph. Ay, there is a great deal of pleafure 
 in all thefe tenderneffes, thefe complaifant difccur- 
 fes, thefe fond embraces; but they fhould be tail- 
 ed in an honefl manner, and the fin fliculd be ta- 
 ken away by marrying. 
 
 Agnes. After one is married is it not a fin ? 
 
 Arnolph. No, 
 
 Agnes. Then, pray, marry me immediately. 
 
 Arnolph. If you defire it, I defire it too, and 
 rame back on purpofe to marry you. 
 
 Agnes. Did you really ? 
 
 Arnolph. Yes. 
 
 Agnes. How glad you will make me! 
 
 Arnolph. Ay, I do not queftion but matrimo* 
 ny will pleafe you. 
 
 Agnes. Will you have us two 
 
 Arnolph. Nothing more certain. 
 
 Agnes. If it be fo, I fhall embrace you. 
 
 Arnolph. And I fhall do the fame by you. 
 
 Agnes. For my part, I do not underftand when 
 people are in jeft. Do you fpeak fcrioufiy? 
 
 Arnolph. Ay, you (hall fee I do. 
 
 Agnes. We fhall be married then ? 
 
 Arnolph. Yes. 
 
 Agnes. But when ? 
 
 Arnolph. This very evening. 
 
 Agnes, laughing. 3 This very evening? 
 
 Arnolph. This very evening. Are you glad 
 at it?
 
 82 THE SCHOOL FOR \VIVE9. 
 
 Agnes. Yes. 
 
 Arnolph. It is my defire to fee you happy. 
 
 Agnes. I am very much obliged to you: what 
 fatisfaction mall I enjoy with him! 
 
 Arnolph. With whom ? 
 
 Agnes. With him there. 
 
 Arnolph. Him there I do not talk of him 
 there; you are a little forward, methinks, to choofe 
 nn hufband. In a word, it is another body I have 
 got ready for you; and as for that gentleman there, 
 I intend, by your favour, (even though the malady 
 he amufes you with mould kill him) that hence- 
 forward you (hall break off all acquaintance with 
 him: that when he comes to the houfe, your com- 
 pliment mall be civilly to fhut the door upon 
 him, and if he knocks, throw a ftone at him 
 out of the window, and oblige him in good earn eft 
 never to come there again. Do you underftaml 
 me, Agnes ? I will lie concealed hi a corner, and 
 obferve how you behave. 
 
 Agnes. Alack! he is fo genteel, it is 
 
 Arnolph. Heh ! what a fpeech! 
 
 Agnes. I mall not have the heart 
 
 Arnolph. No more difputing. Go up flairs. 
 
 Agnes. Will you really 
 
 Arnolph. Hold your tongue; I am mailer, 
 therefore you mall obey.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 1 8 1 
 
 ACT III. SCENE I. 
 
 A R N O L P H, AGNES, ALLEN, 
 G E O R G E T T A. 
 
 A R N O L P H . 
 
 Y following my directions, you have con- 
 founded the handfome feducei'; in fhort, eve- 
 ry thing has fucceeded to my wifhes, and I am vaft- 
 ly pkafed. This it is to have a difcreet advifcr : 
 your innocence, Agnes, had been infnared; and 
 fte what a condition you would have been in, be- 
 fore you were aware of it. You were running di- 
 rectly on in the high road to hell and deftruUon, 
 had not I fet you right. The ways of thefe fparks 
 are but too well known; they have fine ftcckings, 
 ribbons and feathers in abundance, large wigs, good 
 teeth, and a fmooth tongue; but I allure you, 
 there is a cloven foot underneath, and they are de- 
 vils in reality, whofe voracious appetite endeavours 
 to make a prey of female honour. However, this 
 time, thanks to the care that has been taken, you 
 are efcaped with your virtue. The air wherewith I 
 faw you throw that ftone at him, which has ren- 
 dered all his defigns hopelefs, makes me ftill more 
 refolved not to delay the marriage, for which I told 
 you to prepare yourfelf. But it is proper, firft of 
 all, to have a little talk with you, that may be to 
 your advantage, [to Georgetta and Allen.] Bring 
 cut a chair hither. If you ever - 
 
 Georgetta, We will remember all yourinftruc
 
 184 THE SCHOOL FOR VVIYES. 
 
 tions perfectly: The other gentleman there impof- 
 ed upon us: But 
 
 Allen. May I die, if ever he get in again. Be* 
 fides, he is a blockhead, he gave us two crown pie- 
 ces the other day that were not weight. 
 
 Arnolph. Get what 1 ordered for fupper, and 
 as for our contract which I fpokc of, let one of you 
 fetch the Notary hither, that lives at the corner of 
 the market-place. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 ARNOLPH, AGNES. 
 
 ARNOLPH fitting. 
 
 AY afide your work, Agnes, and pay atten- 
 tion to what lam going to fay to you: hold 
 up your head, and look at me whilft I am fpeak- 
 ing, and be fare remember every thing I fay to 
 you. I intend to marry you, Agnes, and you ought 
 an hundred times a-day to blefs your happy fate, 
 to remind yourfelf of the pitiful condition you were 
 in, and at the fame time to admire my goodnefs, 
 which raifes you from the mean ftation of a poor 
 country-wench to the honourable rank of a citi- 
 zen's wife; to enjoy both the bed and the embra- 
 ces of a man who has dimmed all fuch engage- 
 ments, and whofe heart has refufed the honour it 
 will do you, to twenty people very capable of plea- 
 fing. You ought, I fay, continually to remind 
 yourfelf how infignificant you would be without 
 this glorious alliance, to the intent that confidera- 
 tion may the better teach you to deferve the ftati- 
 on I (kail place you in, and make you always know 
 yourfelf, fo that I may never repent of what I do.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR \V1VL3. iS $ 
 
 Matrimony, Agnes, is not a trifling thing; fevcre 
 duties are required of a wife; and I do net defign 
 to exalt you to that condition, for you to be a Li- 
 bertine and to take your pleafure. Your fex is 
 merely dependant in that ttate, the whole power is 
 on the hufband's fide; though they are two parts 
 of the Tame body, yet thofe two parts are far from 
 being equal ; one is the fuperior part, and the o- 
 ther the fubordinatej the one is in all cafes fub- 
 jett to the other that governs : and that obedience 
 which the well-difciplined foldier fhews to his ge- 
 neral, the fervant to his matter, a child to his fa- 
 ther, or the lowed monk to his fuperior, comes e- 
 ven very fhort of the tra&ablenefs, the fubmiflion, 
 the humility, and the profound veneration which 
 a wife fhould have for her hufband, her chief, her 
 lord and matter. When he locks ferioufly upon 
 her (he fhould turn her eyes immediately upon the 
 ground, and never prefume to look him in the face, 
 till he favours her with a gracious glance. Our 
 wives, in this age, are ignorant of this, but be not 
 you corrupted by the example of other people. Be- 
 ware of imitating thofe foolifh jilts, whofe pranks 
 are talked of all the city over ; and do not let the 
 devil tempt you, that is to fay, hearken to no young 
 coxcomb. Confider, Agnes, that by making you 
 part of myfelf, I give you up my honour, which 
 honour is tender, and enfily offended , that there 
 is no trifling on fuch an occafion as this, r.nd that 
 in hell there are boiling cauldrons wherein wives 
 that live wickedly are plunged for ever and ever. 
 Thefe are not foolifh ftories which I am ttlling you, 
 and thefe leflbns fhould be imprinted in your heart. 
 If you pradife them fmcerely, and avoid being a 
 coquette, your foul will be always as white and
 
 J86 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 fpotlefs as the lily, but if you forfeit your honour, 
 it will become as black as a ccal j ydu will appear 
 as a terrible monfter to every body, and in time 
 you will be the devil's property, and boil in bell 
 to all eternity, from which I heartily pray you may 
 be preferved. Make a curtfy. As a probatio- 
 ner in a convent rrnift know her duty by heart, fo 
 flie th~t marries fhould do the very fame: .and I 
 have a writing of great importance in my pocket, 
 which will teach you the duty of a wife. Some 
 gcod body has wrote it, who is now unknown, and 
 I would have you fluey it conltamly. [He gets 
 upj Hold: Let's fee if you can read and under- 
 ftand it. [Agnes reads. 
 
 MAXIMS of WEDLOCK, or the duties of a mar- 
 ried woman; together with her daily exercHe. 
 
 I. MAXIM. 
 
 * f r ^HE woman who intends to be married 
 " ought to remember, that the man who 
 
 ** takes her, takes her only for hirnfelf, notwith- 
 " (landing the vaft numbers of admirers which o- 
 " ther women have in thefe our days. 
 
 Arnolph-. I (hall explain to you what that means; 
 but for the prefent let us cnly read. 
 
 [Agnes goes on. 
 
 II. MAXIM. 
 
 " She ought to confult her hufband about her 
 u drefs; it being for him alone me {hould take care 
 *< of her beauty, and be rcgaruiefs whether other 
 (t people think her handfome or net.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 III. MAXIM. 
 
 c * She mufl. lay afide the practice of ogling, and 
 " mufl ufe no paints, pomatums, beauty-wafhes, 
 " nor the numberlefs ingredients that are made 
 " ufe of to fct oft" the complexion. Thefe are 
 " aiways mortal poifbns to honour, and the pains 
 11 be ft owed to appear bei.utiful' are feldom for 
 " the huiband's fake. 
 
 JY. MAXIM. 
 
 '* When fhe goes abroad, {lie ought, as honour 
 *' requires, to prevent the wounds her eyes might 
 *' give, by concealing them under her hood: for 
 " flie (Iiould ftudy to pleafe her hufband, and no 
 " one elfe. 
 
 V. MAXIM. 
 
 *' Decency prohibits her from receiving any 
 " friends whatever, except fuch as come to feeher 
 '* hu{band: thofe people of gallantry that have no 
 *' bufmefs but with the wifcj are very difagreea- 
 " bJe to the hufband. 
 
 VI. MAXIM. 
 
 *' She mufl not accept any prefents from men, 
 " for they dways expedt fomc favour in return. 
 
 VII. M A X I M. 
 
 " Amongfl her moveables (lie mufl have neither 
 " fcrutoir, ink, jinncr, nor pens. The hufband, ac
 
 l88 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 " corning to good cuftom, fliould write all that is 
 <l written in his family. 
 
 VIII. MAXIM. 
 
 " She fliould not go to thofe diforderly focieties 
 t( called affcrnblies, which tend to corrupt wo- 
 <( men's mindj for at thefe places they invent the 
 " deepeft plots again ft their hufoands. 
 
 IX. MAXIM. 
 
 " If a woman intends to preferve her honour, 
 " (he muft {him gaming as a terrible thing; for 
 " play is very bewitching, and often drives a wo- 
 '* man to the laft flake. 
 
 x. MAXIM. 
 
 " She mufl .never go to public walks, Hor ac- 
 t( cept of treats in the country, for it is thought 
 " the hufband generally is at the expence of fuch 
 " jaunts." 
 
 Arnorph. You may read the reft gf It when a- 
 lone, and by-and-by I will explain thefe matters 
 to you, as they fhould be, line by line. I have a 
 little affair come into my head, it is only tofpeak 
 a word, and I fhall not tarry long. Go in, and 
 take a fpecial care of that book. If the Notary 
 comes, tell him to wait till I come.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR \VIVES. 189 
 
 SCENE III. 
 A R N o L P H alone. 
 
 THIS girl is fo pliant in my hands, that I can 
 turn her any way, therefore I cannot do 
 better than make her my wife. I very narrowly 
 efcaped being choufed in my abfence through her 
 over innocence; but to fay the truth, one's wife's 
 failings had much better be from that caufe; for 
 fuch fort of miftakes are eafily amended. Simple 
 people pay great attention to their advifers, and if 
 they chance to be deceived, a word or two will put 
 them right aain. But it is quite otherwife with 
 a witty wife; our fate depends on her judgment 
 only, nothing can divert her from purfuing what 
 (he is once fet upon, and all our precepts, in this 
 cafe, prove abortive. Her wit enables her to ri- 
 dicule our maxims, to make virtues of her faults, 
 and find out ways of deceiving the mod dexterous, 
 in order to bring about her wicked defigns. We 
 labour in vain to turn aficle the blow; a witty wo- 
 man is a plague in intrigue, and after her caprice 
 has filently pafled fentence on our honour, it 
 muft be fubmhtcd to. A great many honed 
 people are able to declare as much. But my blun- 
 derbufs (hall find no caufe to laugh; he has met 
 with what he deferves for tattling. This is the 
 common fault of our countrymen, in the poflefli- 
 on of good fortune they are never eafy, while it is 
 a fccret, and this fenfelefs vanity is fo valuable to 
 them, that they would rather Icfe their happinefs 
 than not talk of it. Sure the devil muft be very 
 flrong in women when they choofe fuch rattle-
 
 TpO THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 pates! and But here he comes: let me be up- 
 on my guard, and. difcover how greatly he is 
 mortified. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 HORACE, A R N O L P H. 
 HORACE. 
 
 I Have juft been at your houfe, where fate feems 
 refolved I fhould never meet with you; but 
 I will go fo often, that fome moment at lad fhall- 
 
 Arnolph. Pray ufe not thefe filly compliments, 
 than which nothing is more tirefome to me, and 
 could I prevail, all manner of ceremony {hould be 
 wholly laid afide. It is a wretched cuftoin, where- 
 in mcft people wafte two parts in three of their 
 time. Let us leave it off then without any more 
 ado. [T uts cn r ^ s bat.] Well, as to your love in- 
 trigue, Mr. Horace, may I be informed hew you 
 goonin it? I was taken off before by fome bufinefs 
 that came into my head, but I havebeen confider- 
 ing of it fince: I admire the quick progrefs ycu 
 have made at the beginning, and am folicitrus for 
 the event. 
 
 Horace. My paflicn has been unfortunate, Sir, 
 fince I discovered it to you. 
 
 Arnolph: Ay! how fo? 
 
 Horace. The msfter of my fair one is unhappi- 
 ly returned from the country. 
 
 Arnolph. What a misfortune! 
 
 Horace. And befiaes, to my very great forrow, 
 he knows what has pnfTed in private between us 
 two. .
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. iyi 
 
 Arnolph. How the deuce could he learn this 
 affair fo foon ? 
 
 Horace. I really cannot tell, but fo i: really is. 
 At my ufual hour, I went to the houfe to fee her, 
 when both the man and maid, with a voice and 
 countenance quite altered from what they ufed to 
 be, oppofed my entrance, and (hut the door to my 
 face with a Get you gone, you are troublefome. 
 
 Arnolph. The door to your face ! 
 
 Horace. To my face. 
 
 Arnolph. That is a little hard. 
 
 Horace. I would have talked to them through 
 the door, but to all that I could fay their anfwer 
 was, You mall not come in, my mailer has for- 
 bid it. 
 
 Arnolph. Did they not let you in then? 
 
 Horace. No. And Agnes confirmed her ma- 
 fler's return to me from the window, by bidding 
 me be gone in a very angry tone, *ml throwing a 
 flone at me. 
 
 Arnolph. How! aftonc? 
 
 Horace. A flone that was none of the lead nei- 
 ther, by which with her own hand (he received my 
 vifit. 
 
 Arnolph. The devil! Thefe are no jokes: your 
 affair is in no very flouri filing way. 
 
 Horace. Very true, this return of his has great- 
 ly hurt me. 
 
 Arnolph. Really I am forry for you, I protefl I 
 am. 
 
 Horace. This man breaks all my meafures. 
 
 Arnolph. Ay, but that is nothing; you will 
 find a way of fetting yourfelf to rights again. 
 
 Horace. I mufl endeavour by fome intelligence 
 to baffle the ftrict vigilance oi" her jealous matter.
 
 Ip2 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 Arnolph. You will eafily do that, for when all 
 is done the girl loves you. 
 
 Horace. I really believe (he does. 
 
 Arnolph. You will bring matters to bear. 
 
 Horace. I hope fo. 
 
 Arnolph, That (lone has perplexed you, but 
 you fhould not be aftonimed at it. 
 
 Horace. That's certain, for I prefently difco- 
 vered that my rival was there, and managed the 
 whole afTair without being feen in it. But what 
 furprized me, and what you will wonder a-t, was 
 another accident I am going to tell you of, a bold 
 ftroke of the lovely girl, which one would not 
 have expected from her fimplicity. Love, it muft 
 be owned, is a (kilful mafter; he teaches us to be 
 what we never were before, and frequently an in- 
 tire alteration in our manners becomes by his lef- 
 fons only a moment's work. He breaks through 
 the obftacles of nature in us, and his fudden ef- 
 fects have the appearance of miracles. A coward 
 is by him in an inftant rendered courageous, a mi- 
 fer liberal, and a churl obliging; he infpires the 
 greateft blockhead with wifdom, and makes him 
 capable of doing every thing. Agnes is a furpriz- 
 ing inftance of this, for fnapping me up in thefe 
 very words, Get you gone, I am refolved never to 
 fee you more. 1 knov/ all you have to fay, and 
 there is my anfwer. This (tone, or this pebble, 
 nt which you would wonder, fell down with a let- 
 ter at my feet; and what I admire is to find this 
 letter adapted exaclly to the meaning of her words, 
 and the (tone (he threw. Are not you furprized 
 at fuch an a&ion as this? Does not love know 
 the art of quickening the understanding ? And can 
 it be denied that his powerful flames have \vor>-
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES'. 193 
 
 derful effects upon the mind? What do ye fay to 
 all this? What think ye of the letter? Heh! do 
 not you admire this crafty contrivance? Is not it 
 comical to obferve wru't a part my jealous rival 
 has been acting with all this foolery? Are not 
 
 Arnolph. Ay, very comical. 
 
 Horace. Why, I think, it does not make you 
 laugh. [Arnolph forces a laugh.] This military 
 man, who fortifies himfelf in his own houfe againft 
 my paflion, and feems provided with (tones, as tho* 
 I meant to enter by florin, who in a whimfical 
 fright encourages all his fervants to drive me away, 
 is impofed upon before his face, even by his own 
 inftrument, by her whom he would keep in the 
 utmoft ignorance. I confefs, for my part, though 
 his return has thrown my affair under a very great 
 difficulty, I think it is fo very droll that I cannot 
 forbear laughing whenever it comes into my head, 
 dm! methinks you do not laugh at it enough. 
 
 Arnolph with a forced laugh.] I beg your par- 
 <!on, I laugh r.t it as iruch as I am able. 
 
 Horace. But I muft fiiew you her letter as a 
 friend, in whii.h fhe has writ down all that her 
 heart felt, in terms fo affe&ing, fo perfectly lull of 
 goodnefs, of innocent temlernefs and fincerity! 
 in a word, in the veryiranner that pure nature 
 exprefles the firfl wound love gives. 
 
 Arnolph afide.] This is the confequence of 
 your writing, you gvpfey: it was contrary to my 
 intention that you was taught it. 
 
 Horace reads.] " I have a mind to write to you, 
 " but 1 know not where I fhall begin. I have 
 " fome thoughts which I am tlefirous you fhould 
 " be acquainted with ; but I am at a lofs how tell 
 " them you, and diftruft my want of words. As 
 
 VOL. II. I
 
 194 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 " I begin to underftand that I have always beer; 
 " kept in ignorance, lam afraid of writing forne- 
 {< thing that would be wrong, or faying more than 
 " I fbould do. I do not know what you have 
 *' done to me, but I find that I am ready to die 
 " with vexation for what 1 am forced to doagainft 
 ' you, that it would give me all the uneafinefs in 
 *' the world to lofe you, and that I fliould be great- 
 *' ly delighted to be yours. There is harm, per- 
 *' haps, in faying fo, but really I cannot forbear, 
 *' though I wifhit could have been brought about, 
 a and no harm had been in it. I am informed, 
 " that all young men are falfe, that what they fay 
 " rnuft not be minded, and that every thing you 
 "* tell me is only to deceive me : But I a (lure you, 
 " I cannot yet imagine that of you, and I am fo 
 u affelecl by your words, that I do not know how 
 '* to believe they are lies. Tell me generouflv 
 <c if they be; for as I am devoid of any ill dc- 
 *' fign, you would do the greatefl injury in the 
 " world fhould you deceive me, and I believe the 
 <c vexation of it would kill me. 
 
 Arnolph afide.3 Um, Bitch! 
 
 Horace. What do ye fay ? 
 
 Arnolph. I? Nothing I only cc-u^-hed. 
 
 Horace. Did you ever fee more tendernefs of 
 expreffion ? notwithstanding all the curfetl enus.-a- 
 vours of unreafonable power, is it poffible to find a 
 better natural capacity ? and is not it certainly a 
 mortal fin villainoufly to fpoilfuch nn admirable ge- 
 fiius ? to be defirous of obfcuring the brightncfs 
 of fuch a mind in ignorance and fhipidity? But 
 love has begun to pull off the mafk ; and if by the 
 favour of fome lucky ftar I can be abk to deal with
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 195 
 
 t'iiis mere animal, this blockhead, this fcoundrel, 
 this brute---- 
 
 Arnolph. Good bye to ye. 
 
 Horace. Why in fuch a hurry ? 
 
 ArnoJph. I have juft thought of an important 
 
 affair, which 
 
 Horace. Can you not tell me of any body (as you live 
 in the neighbourhood) that could get admittance into 
 this houfe ? I make free with you, and it is not un- 
 ufual for friends to ferve one another on fuch occa- 
 fions. At prefer.t I have no body in it but people 
 to watch me; the man and maid both, as I found 
 juft now, in fpight of all that I could do, would not 
 be fo civil as to hear me. I had a certain old wo- 
 man in my intereft for fome time, of a genius, to 
 fay the truth, more than human. She was very 
 ferviceable to me at the beginning; but four days 
 ago the poor woman died. Cannot you put me in 
 fome way ? 
 
 Arnolph. No, really; you will find out fome 
 without me. 
 
 Horace. Furewel then. You fee what confidence 
 I put in you. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 ARNOLPH alone. 
 
 7 HAT a reftraint lam obliged to put upon 
 myfelf before him ! What ! a fimpleton have 
 fo much ready wit! fuch the hufiy has pretend- 
 ed to be in my fight. How the deuce has her 
 foul fucked in this fubtility? After all, that fatal 
 letter is the death of me. I find the villain has 
 corrupted her mind, and has fixed himfelf there 
 I 2
 
 Ip6 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVliS. 
 
 in my place: This gives me defpair and mortal 
 pain. I fuffer doubly by being robbed of her heart, 
 for thereby love is injured as well as honour. It 
 diftracls me to fee my prudent meafures defeated, 
 and my place ufur-ped. 1 am fen Tible- that to puniih 
 her guilty paflion, I need only leave her to her e- 
 vil dcfliny> and that fhe'herfelf would revenge me 
 upon :herfelf ; but to be deprived of the thing one 
 loves is terrible. Heavens! after making ufe of 
 fo much philofophy in my choice, why muit I be 
 fo mightily bewitched by her charms? She is de- 
 ftitute of parents, friends, and money j fhe abufes 
 my care, my favours, my tendernefs; and yet I 
 love her, even after this bafe affair, fo much that 
 I am unable t-o throw off this fondnefs. Fool! 
 haft th oti no fhame? Oh I burft! 'I am mad, and 
 I could tear myfelf in pieces. I will flap in a lit- 
 tle, but only to fee how (he looks after fo enorm- 
 ous a crime. Heaven grant that my brows may 
 be free from difhonour! but if it is decreed that I 
 muft fuffer it, beftow upon me at kaft that forti- 
 tude v/hich fome people are endowed with -to bear 
 fuch accidents ! 
 
 ACT IV, SCENE I. 
 
 A R N O L PH. 
 
 ^PI V Herever I go my mind difh'acbs me, it is 
 \y greatly perplexed liow to manage things 
 both within doors and without, fo as to fruftrate 
 the defigns of this young fop. With what effron- 
 tery did the traitrefs bear the fight of me: what 
 jfloe .has .done does not in the leaft ccwicer-n her; and
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. Ipy 
 
 i hough flic has brought me within an inch of the 
 grave, one would fwcar, to look at her, that (he had 
 not the leail hand in it. The more (lie appeared 
 compoftd when I faw her, the more \vas I vexed, 
 and thofe hoiling tranfports which inflamed my 
 heart, Teemed only to redouble my ardent paflion. 
 I was incenfed ;? gain ft her, and yet I never faw her 
 appear fo beautiful; her tyes, methought, never 
 were before fo piercing, never did they before in- 
 fpire me with fuch violent defires: and I perceive 
 it would kill me fliould my evil deftiny bring this 
 difgrace upon me. What? Have I brought her 
 up fo tenderly, and with fo much care? Have I 
 taken her to me from her infancy? Have I indulg- 
 ed the fondeft hopes ? Mutt I buiid upon her grow- 
 ing charms? And during thirteen years have I 
 fondled her to be my own, as I imagined, for an 
 hair-brained youth whom (he is in love with to 
 come and run away with her before my face, and 
 that even when fhe is half msrried to me? No, by 
 heavens, my foolifh young friend; by heavens, 
 no: you muft be a cunning fellow to overturn my 
 project; or elfe by my faith, I (hall render all your 
 hopes abortive, and you will find no caufe to laugh 
 at me. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 A NOTARY, ARNOLPH. 
 NOTARY. 
 
 O There he is! Good-morrow to ye: Iam.rea- 
 dy to draw up the contract as you defire. 
 Arnolph not perceiving or hearing him.} In 
 what manner muft it be done ? 
 I 3
 
 Ip8 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 Notary. It muft be done in the ufual form. 
 
 Arnolph not perceiving him.] I will ufe all pof- 
 fible precaution. 
 
 Notary. I will do nothing contrary to your in- 
 tereft. 
 
 Arnolph not perceiving him.] I muft guard a- 
 gainft any furprize. 
 
 Notary. It is enough that your affairs are put 
 into my hands. You muft by no means fign the 
 contradl before you receive the portion, for fear of 
 Iseing cheated. 
 
 Arnolph not perceiving him.] I am afraid, 
 {Jiould I make the leaft difcovery, it would become 
 a public town -talk. 
 
 Notary. But it is very eafy to prevent a difco- 
 very; your contract maybe tranfacted privately. 
 
 Arnolph not perceiving him.] But how fhall 
 I fettle the point with her? 
 
 Notary. The jointure mould be in proportion to 
 the fortune me brings you. 
 
 Arnolph not perceiving him.] I love her, and 
 that love is the greateft difficulty I labour under. 
 
 Notary. In that cafe the wife may have fo much 
 the more. 
 
 Arnolph not perceiving him.] How to behave 
 to her on fuch an occafion ? 
 
 Notary. The law fays, the hufband that is to be 
 (hall fettle upon the wife that is to be the third part 
 of her portion ; but the law figrrifies nothing at all, 
 you may do a great deal more than that if you have 
 a mind to it. 
 
 Arnolph not perceiving him. If 
 
 [Seeing the Notary. 
 
 Notary. As for the prefents to be made, let 
 them agree together. I fay the hufband that is to
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. Ipp 
 
 be may give the wife that is to be what jointure he 
 chufes. 
 
 Arnclph. Heh ! 
 
 Notary. He may give her fo much and more, if 
 he loves her greatly, and is defirous to oblige her, 
 and that by way of jointure or fettlement as they 
 call it, to be left and go away intirely to the right 
 heirs of the faid wife that is to be, upon her de- 
 ceaie; or elfe according to the ftatute, as people 
 have a mind; cr a> a gilt, by a deed in form, 
 which may be made either iingle or mutual. 
 Wherefore do yen flmig? Do net I talk very learn- 
 edly? Do you think that I do not underfland the 
 manner of a contrail? Yi'ho is it can teach me? 
 No body, I prefume. Do not I know that when 
 they are married they I- are in law an equal right 
 to all moveables, monies, immovcables and acqui- 
 fitions, unlefs they give it up by an p.6l of renun- 
 ciation ? Do not 1 know that a third part of the 
 portion of the wife that is to be, becomes in com- 
 mon, for 
 
 Arnolph. I do not in the leaft doubt but that 
 you know all this; but no body is talking to you 
 about it. 
 
 Notary. Why, do you feem to take me for a 
 fool, by fhrugging up your Qioulders, and making 
 faces at me? 
 
 Arnolph. Pox take the fellow with his puppy's 
 face. Adieu, that is the way to make you hold 
 your peace. 
 
 Notary. Was not I fetched hither to i\rz\7 i:p a 
 contract ? 
 
 Arnolph. Yes, I fent for you ; but the affair 
 is put off, and I will fend for you again when the 
 I 4
 
 2OO THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 time is fixed. What a noife the fellow makes .* 
 Notary alone.] I dare fay the man is mad. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 NOTARY, ALLEN, GEORGE TT A. 
 NOTARY. 
 
 DID you come to fetch me to your mafter ? 
 Allen. Yes. 
 
 Notary. I do not know what you may take him 
 for, but go and tell him from me, that he is a mad 
 fool. 
 
 Georgetta. We fhall not fail to do it. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 ARNOLPH 1 , ALLEN, GEORGETTA. 
 ALLEN. 
 
 SIR, 
 Arnolph. Come hither, you are my trufty, 
 my good, my real friends, and I have fome news 
 for you. 
 
 Allen. The Notary - 
 
 Arnolph. No matter, fome other time for that. 
 A wicked defign is contrived againfl my honour ; 
 and what a difgrace would it be for you, children, 
 to have your mafter robbed of his honour? After 
 that you would not dare to appear in any place, for 
 whoever fees you would point at you. Therefore, 
 fince the affair concerns you as much as me, you 
 mufl take fuchcare, for your part, that this gallant 
 may not 
 
 Georgetta. You have taught us our leflbn al- 
 ready.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR \VXVES. 2OI 
 
 Arnclph. But be ware of paying the leaft atten- 
 tion to liis fly fpceches. 
 
 Allen. O! to be fure. 
 
 Georgctta. We know how to deny him. 
 
 Arnolph. Suppofc he fhould come now in a 
 coaxing manner; Allen, my dear heart, cheer up 
 my drooping fpirits by a little of your afliftance. 
 
 Allen. You are a blockhead. 
 
 Arnolph. Right. [To Georgetta.] Georgetta, 
 my pretty-face, you feem fo fweet-tempered,. and 
 fo good a body. 
 
 Georgetta. You are an oaf. 
 
 Arnolph. Right. [To Allen.] Do youthinkthere 
 is the leaft harm in an honeft and virtuous defign? 
 
 Allen. You are a villain. 
 
 Arnolph. Very well. [To Georgetta.] I fhnll 
 certainly die, if you take no pity on the pains I fuf- 
 fer. 
 
 Georgetta. You are a fool, an impudent rafcal. 
 
 Arnolph. Mighty good. [To Allen.] I am not 
 a perfon that defires fomething for nothing^ I know 
 how to remember fervices that are done me : How- 
 ever, Allen, there is fomewhat to make you drink 
 before-hand; and there is to buy you fome ribbons, 
 Georgetta. [[Both hold out their hands and take 
 the money.J This is only an earneft of my kind- 
 nefs; and all the favour I rcqueftof you is only to 
 let me fee your handfomc miftrefs. 
 
 Georgetta pushing him.] None cf your tricks 
 upon us. 
 
 Arnolph. That is good. 
 
 Allen pufhing him.] Begone, 
 
 Arnolph. Right. 
 
 Georgctta pufhing him.] Immediitely. 
 
 Arnolph. Very well. Hold, enough., 
 I S
 
 2C2 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVE?. 
 
 Georgetta. Do not I do right ? 
 
 Allen. Is this the way you would have us be- 
 have to him ? 
 
 Arnolph. Yes, you do extremely well, except 
 r.s to the money, which you mull not take. 
 
 Georgetta. We did not think of that. 
 
 Allen. Would you have us begin again juft now? 
 
 Arnolph. Noj it is enough, go in both of you. 
 
 Allen. You need only fpeak. 
 
 Arnolph. No, I tell you, go in when I dcfire 
 you. You may keep the money ; go, I will come 
 to you- again; look circumlpe&ly to every thing, 
 and fecond my endeavours. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 ARNOLPH alone. 
 
 THIS fpark fhall be mighty cunning indeed, 
 if he can now get either letter or meffage 
 conveyed to her. I will get the cobler who 
 lives at the corner of our ftreet to be a fpy 
 for me. I intend never to let her out of doors, 
 and will banifh all milliners, tire-women, and 
 glove-makers, who make it their conftant cuftom 
 to help en love-intrigues. I who underfland mat- 
 ters, and have feen the world, know all the tricks 
 of it, 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 HORACE, ARNOLPH, 
 HORACE. 
 
 I HAVE juft now made a very narrow efcape, 
 and am very glad to find you here, Juft after 
 I faw you laft, I unexpectedly law Agnes all-alone
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 20$ 
 
 in thebalcony, enjoying the frefli air. After hav- 
 ing made me a fign, ihe came down and let me 
 in by the garden door. But I was hardly in her 
 chamber, before fhc heard her watchful Argus u- 
 pon the flairs; upon which ihe fhut me up in a 
 clofet which luckily happinecl to be in the room. 
 He came into the room immediately: I did not 
 fee him, but I heard him walk to and fro at a 
 great rate, without uttering one fyllable, but figh- 
 ing grievoufly now and then, and fometimes giv- 
 ing great thumps upon the table, beating a little 
 dog that fawned upon him, and overturning every- 
 thing that came in hi:> way; he broke in his pafTion 
 the very flower-pets \vith which the fair one had 
 fct out her chimney - y and without doubt the trick. 
 fhe has played muil h^ve come to his ear. At laft, 
 after having by twenty fuch tricks difcharged his 
 fury 0:1 things that could not help it, he without 
 faying what made him uneafy, left the chamber, 
 and I my prifon. We durflnot ventureto flay to- 
 gether any longer for fear of fomebody, it would 
 have been running too great a rifque: But fhe is 
 to admit me into her chamber to-night, when it is 
 late; the iign for her to know me is to be three 
 hems, and then the window will be opened, out of 
 which Agnes is to put a ladder, whereby I will 
 enter. This I tell to you as my or.ly friend: Joy 
 increafcs by being revealed ; and fhould one taftc 
 the mofl confummate joys an hundred times over t 
 it would not be fatisfcclory unlefs it were known 
 by fome-body. You will take part, I believe, in 
 the fuccefs of my affairs. Farewell, I am gciii 
 abcutfome other bufmefsjufl now. 
 
 I 6
 
 204 THE SCHOOL FOB WIVES.- 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 A R N o L P H alone. 
 
 AM I never to be at reft, but be conftantly per- 
 fecuted by my evil deftiny ? Is my vigilance 
 and wifdom to be for ever defeated? And am I 
 always to be the fport of this iimple wench and 
 raw-brained fop? I have been contemplating the 
 wretched fate of married men for thefe twenty years 
 and upwards, and have carefully informed myfelf 
 of all thsaccidents whereby the mod wary are diftrefs- 
 ed : I have profited by the difgraces of others, and 
 have endeavoured to fecure my brows from all af- 
 fronts, and prevent their being likeother foreheads,, 
 it being my intent to marry : For this noble pur- 
 pofe I thought I had made ufe of every project 
 that couW be thought of, but cruel fate feem& 
 to have decreed that no mortal fhould be exempt- 
 ed from it; after all the light and experience that 
 I could poffibly gain in thefe matters, after more 
 than twenty years fludying how to conduct myfelf 
 cautioufly through the whole affair, have I a&ed con- 
 trary to the practice of fo many huibands, to find 
 myfelf in the very fame condition as they are . ? Ah ! 
 cruel deftiny, thou haft proved falfe! I am flill in 
 pofleilion of the defired object; and if her heart is 
 itolen from me by this unlucky fpark, I will pre- 
 vent him however from feizing any thing elfe, and 
 they ihall not fpencl this night fo agreeably as they 
 imagine. This blunderer, by entruftinghisfecret 
 with me, puts it in my power to defeat all his pro- 
 jects, wl'kh is however feme frmll comfort.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 2O 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 CHRISALDUS, ARNOLPH*. 
 CHRIS AL D IT S. 
 
 WELL, (hall we fup before we walk? 
 Arnolph. No, I do not intend to take 
 any fupper to-night. 
 
 Chrifaldus. Pray what is the reafon of thia ? 
 
 Arnolph. I have a reafon for it. 
 
 Chrifaldus. Is not the wedding you refolved up- 
 on to be performed ? 
 
 Arnolph. You interfere too much in other peo- 
 ple's afiairs. 
 
 Chrifaldus. How fharp you are! I fuppofe you 
 have been crofted in your love-atTair. 
 
 Arnolph. Let what will befal me, I (hall at 
 lead have the advantage of being unlike certain 
 people, who peaceably fuller galants to make their 
 vifits. 
 
 Chrifaldus. It is very odd, that you fhould al- 
 ways take fright upon this affair, that you mould 
 place your fovereign happinels in this, and imagine 
 no other kind of honour in the world: To be a 
 mifer, a villain, a bully, and coward, is nothingiu 
 your opinion, compared with this blot ; and in 
 whatfoever manner a man may have lived, he is a 
 man of honour if he is not a cuckold. To fpeak 
 ferioufly, what makes you think that all our glory 
 is dependent on fuch an accident? And that a vir- 
 tuous miml has any thing to reproach itfelf for 
 the injuftice of a vicious one which it could not 
 help ? Why will you, I fay, imagine that in mar- 
 rying one deferves either praife or blame for the
 
 206 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 choice one makes, and form a mod horrible monflcr 
 of the affront that is clone one by a wife's falfhood ? 
 Be perfuaded that a man of honour need not be fo 
 frighted atcuckoldom ; thatnone being fecure from 
 the ftrokes of fortune, this accident fhould be thought 
 in itfelf indifferent ; and in a word, that all the 
 harm of it, let the world pretend what it will, lies 
 only in the manner of our bearing it. To behave 
 well under thefe difficulties, one muft, as well as 
 in all others, avoid extremes : not be like thofe 
 over-good natured people, who, proud of fuch af- 
 fairs, are continually bringing galants to vifit their 
 wives, and telling their good qualifications to e- 
 veryone; who appear exactly of their humour, come 
 to all their treats and meetings, make every one won- 
 der at their having the aflurance to fnew their faces 
 there. This way of acting iscertainly highly blame- 
 able, but the other extreme is not lefs fo. As I 
 do not approve of fuch as are friends to their wives 1 
 gaknts, I am no more for thofe violent people 
 whofe indifcreet refentment, full of rage and fury, 
 draws the eyes of every one upon them by its noife, 
 and who, by the buflle they make, appear unwil- 
 ling that any body {hould be ignorant what they 
 are. There is a medium between thefe two ex- 
 tremes, where a wife man flops upon fuch an oc- 
 cafion: when a body knows how to take it, there 
 is no caufe to be afhamed for the worft a wife can 
 do. In a word, people may fay of it what they 
 pleafe, but it may be eafily made to appear not fo 
 frightful, and, as I told you before, all the dexte- 
 rity lies in knowing how to turn the fair fide out- 
 wards. 
 
 .Arnolph. The whole fraternity ought to return 
 you thanks for this excellent fpeech, and any be-
 
 THIi SCHOOL FOR \V1VES. Z&J 
 
 dy that hears you fpeak muft rejoice to find him- 
 felf enrolled amongit the number. 
 
 Chrifaldus. I do not fay that, for it is what I 
 blame: but as a wife is the gift of fortune, one 
 fhould do, I fay, as at dice, where if what you ex- 
 pect do not come up, you mull make ufe of dex- 
 terity and temper to amend your luck by good con- 
 dud. 
 
 Arnolph. That is to fay, always eat and lieep 
 quietly, and perfuade yourfelf it fignifies juft no- 
 thing. 
 
 Chrifaldus. You think to make a jeft of it: but 
 in my opinion there are a hundred things worfe 
 than this accident which you dread fo much. If 
 I were forced to make my choice, I would rather 
 chnfe to be one of that fraternity you fo much de- 
 fpife,thantobe married to one of thefemodeft women, 
 whofe perverfenefs makes a quarrel out of nothing : 
 thofe dragons of virtue, thofehoneft (he-devils, pique 
 themfelves continually upon their wife conduct, 
 who, becaufe they do not do us a flight injury, take 
 upon them to behave haughtily, and expect from 
 their being true to us, that we mould bear every 
 thing from them. Let me tell you, friend Ar- 
 nolph, once again, that cuckoldom is really nothing 
 but what one makes it, that it is even defirable on 
 fome accounts, and that it, as well as other things, 
 has its pleafures. 
 
 Arnolph. If you are of a temper to be content- 
 ed under it, I have net the leafl inclination to ex- 
 perience it for my part, and rather than fubmit to 
 fuch a thing 
 
 Chrifaldus. Swear not, I befeech you, for fear 
 of being perjured. If fate ordains it fo, your pre-
 
 2O8 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES.- 
 
 cautions are all to no purpofe; you will not t?5 
 confulted about the matter. 
 
 Arnolph. Shall I be a cuckold? 
 
 Chrifaldus. You are grievoufly hurt: A thou>- 
 irmd people are fo, without difparagement to you, 
 who for perfon, courage, wealth, and family, would 
 be affronted to be compared with you. 
 
 Arnolph. For my part, I fhall make no com,- 
 parifons with them. But, in one word, this rail- 
 kry is fooliPo, let us have done with it, if you 
 pleafe. 
 
 Chrifaldus. You are at prefent enraged, there- 
 fore I bid you adieu for the prefent: but remem- 
 ber, whatever your honour may make you imagine 
 as to this affair, that it is being half what we were 
 talking of, to fwear you will not be fo. 
 
 Arnolph. I fwear it again, and will go immedi- 
 ately and endeavour to prevent this misfortune. 
 
 [Goes to knock at his door. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 ARNOLPH, ALLEN, GEQR.GETTA. 
 ARNOLPH. 
 
 NO W is the time, my friends, that I beg you 
 would aflift me. I really believe you have 
 a regard for me, but now you mud make it appear; 
 if you are honeft and faithful you may be certain 
 of a reward. The young fpark intends to tri'^k 
 me this very night, and get by a ladder into Ag- 
 nes's chamber, but pray keep it very fecrct; 
 we three muft lay a trap for him. Each of you 
 muft be ready with a good heavy club, and when 
 he is almoft at the top of the ladder, (for I will o-
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 pen the window at the nick of time) both of you 
 muft fall upon him in fuch a manner, that his back 
 may be fure to make him remember it, and teach 
 him never to come there again. However, do not 
 mention me at all, nor make any appearance of my 
 being behind. Will you have the courage to ex- 
 ecute my refentment ? 
 
 Allen. If he is only to be thrafhed, Sir, depend 
 upon us, you (hall fee whether I ftrikc with a dead 
 man's arm or not. 
 
 Georgetta. Tho' mine feems not fo ftrong, ia 
 thrashing him it fliall not be lazy. 
 
 Arnolph. Go you in then, and above all things,. 
 be careful of fpeaking about it. f_alone.] This is 
 a ufeful leflbn for my neighbour, and there would 
 not be fo many cuckolds, if every hufband was to 
 give his wife's galant the fame reception. 
 
 A C T V. S C E N E L 
 
 ARNOLPH, ALLEN, GEORGETTA. 
 A R N O L 1' H . 
 
 WHO commanded you to beat him in that 
 manner, wretches ? you have murdered 
 him. 
 
 Allen. We followed your directions, Sir. 
 
 Arnolph. I ordered you to beat his back, but not 
 to murder him,thereforeitis invainforyou to make 
 that excufe. Heavens ! into what a condition has 
 fortune now reduced me ! what can I think of do- 
 ing, to fee the man dead ? Get into the houfe, ami 
 .be fure you fay not a word of the innocent order
 
 2IO THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 I gave you. [alone/] It will foon be light, and I 
 will go aflc advice how I (hall manage this aFair. 
 Alas! what will become of me? And what will the 
 father fay,whenhc comes to k;iow of this fatal mis- 
 fortune ? 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 A R N O L F H, H O R A C E, : 
 
 H o R A cn aiVu. 
 
 MUST go afk \vho it is. 
 
 Arnolph thinking himfclf alone.] It was im- 
 poffible to forefee [being run againft by Ho- 
 race.] Who is there pray? 
 
 Horace. Is it you, Mr. Arnolph.? 
 
 Arnolph. Yes, but who are you ? 
 
 Horace. I was going to your houfe to beg a fa- 
 vour of you. You are very foon abroad this morn- 
 ing. 
 
 Arnolphlow afide.] Surprifing! Is itan enchant- 
 ment? Is it a vifion? 
 
 Horace. To fay the truth, I have been very much 
 troubled, and I thank heaven's great goodaefs for 
 meeting you here thus luckily. I am going to 
 tell you how every thing has fucceeded even much 
 better than I could have expected, and that too by 
 an accident which might have ruined all. I do 
 not know how the jiiSgnntion we had made could 
 poffibly come to be fufpe&edj but jufl as I was 
 ot to the window I faw fome people appear, who 
 Striking furioufly r.t me, made my. feet flip, and I 
 rumbled to the ground : which fall, at the expence 
 of a bruife, faved me from a hearty drubbing. Thefc 
 people, (amongft whom Hiy jeaJocs-pate, I fuppofc.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 211 
 
 was one) imagined my fall to be occasioned by the 
 force of their blows; and as my pain made me lie 
 a confiderablc time motionkfs on the fpot, they 
 really thought I was dead; which immediately a- 
 Jarmed them all. I heard their noife with a pro- 
 found filence; they accufed one another of the vi- 
 olence r -and complaining of their hard fate, came 
 foftly, without any light, to feel if I was dead. It 
 being very dark, I eafily affumed the appearance 
 of a dead man. They went away very much ter- 
 rified : and as I was confidering how to get off, 
 young Agnes, whom my pretended death had fright- 
 ed, came to me in great concern : (For fhe had 
 heard what the people faid to one another, and 
 being lefs obferved during all this fray, fhe eafily 
 flipped out of the houfe.) But finding I was not 
 hurt, fhe was greatly delighted. What fhall I fay 
 more to you ? At laft this amiable fair one has fol- 
 lowed the dictates of her love, and being unwill. 
 ing to go home any more, has committed herfelf 
 intirely to my truft. You may find a little by 
 this harmlefs proceeding, how much the grofs im- 
 pertinence of a fool expofes her, and what danger 
 fhe might have been in, had I a lefs fincere regard 
 for her ; but my heart burns with tco pure a flame, 
 and I would rather die than injure her. 1 fee charms 
 in her which are worthy of a happier fate, and no- 
 thing but death fhall part us. I forefee my father's 
 anger, but we fhall find a time to appeafe his wrath. 
 I yield to her tender charms, and irvfhort, we muft 
 pleafe ourfelves in life : The favour, therefore, I 
 would beg of you, (relying on your fecrecy and 
 fmcerity) is, that I may put her into your hands, 
 and that you will fo far affift my paflion, as to con- 
 ceal her in your houfe for a day or two at lead.
 
 112 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 For, be fides that, her going. oil fhould be kept an 
 inure fecret, to prevent any certain purfuit after 
 her; you are fenfible that a girl of her beauty would 
 be ftrangely fufpetted in the company of a young 
 man; and as I have difclofed the whole fecret of my 
 paflion to you> being well afTured of your prudence, 
 fo 1 can entruft this valuable prize to no friend fo- 
 fincere as you. 
 
 Arnolph. You may be afiured that I am whol- 
 ly devoted to your fervicc. 
 
 Horace. And \t\\\ you do me this kind office ? 
 
 Arnolph. Very readily, I allure you; I am o- 
 verjoyed at this opportunity of ferving you, and 
 thank heaven for giving it me. Never did any 
 thing afford me more-plealure. 
 
 Horace. How greatly am I indebted to you for 
 your goodnefs! I was afraid you would make a dif- 
 ficulty of doing it ; but you know the world, and 
 your wifdom can excufe the heat of youth. She 
 is at the corner of this flreet, with one of my ter- 
 vants. 
 
 Arnolph. But it uow begins to grow light, how 
 fhall we manage ? Perhaps I fhall be feen if I take 
 her here, and the fervants will tattle if you fhould 
 come to myhoufe. Therefore, to be fafe, fhe muft 
 be brought to me in fome darker place. I will 
 go flay for her in my alley, it is very convenient. 
 
 Horace. It is very right to ufe thefe precauti- 
 ons; for my part, I fhall do no more than put her 
 into your hands, and then get me home immediate- 
 ly without faying any thing. 
 
 Arnolph alone."] All the mifchief thou haft 
 done me, cruel fortune! is repaired by this fmgle 
 accident. 
 
 [Throws his cloke over his face,.
 
 1'IllL SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 213 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 AGNES, H OR AC E, A R N O L P fl. 
 
 HORACE to Agnes. 
 
 I AM carrying you to a veryfafe lodging, there- 
 fore be not in the lead uneafy; it would ruin 
 all for you to be with me. Go in at this door, 
 and he will condut-you. 
 
 [Arnolph takes her hand without her knowing 
 him. 
 
 Agnes to Horace.] Wherefore do you leave 
 me? 
 
 Horace. Dear Agnes, it muft be fo. 
 
 Agnes. Pray then do not ftay long, but come 
 back as foon as poffible. 
 
 Horace. 1 will return to you immediately. 
 
 Agnes. I feel no joy but when you are prefent. 
 
 Horace. I too am melancholy when you are out 
 of my fight. 
 
 Agnes. Alack! If that was true, you would not 
 leave me now. 
 
 Horace. What! can you doubt of my exceffive 
 love ? 
 
 Agnes. Nay, you do not love me fo much as I 
 love you. [Arnolph pulls herO Oh! you pull me 
 too hard. 
 
 Horace. Dear Agnes, that is becaufe it is not 
 fafe for us two to be feen here; and this faithful 
 friend who pulls you fo, is prudently zealous fcr 
 cur fervkv. 
 
 Allies. But to fallow a ftranger, who 
 
 Horace. Fear nothing, you cannct be in better 
 hands.
 
 214 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 Agnes. I flioukl think myfelf much better in 
 
 Horace's; and I (hould [To Arnolph, who pulls 
 
 her again.} Stay a little. 
 
 Horace. The day drives me away. Adieu. 
 
 Agnes. When fhall I fee you then? 
 
 Horace. Very foon, you may be certain: 
 
 Agnes. How uneafy I fhall be till that time 
 comes! 
 
 Horace. My happinefs now, thank heaven, is 
 fecure, and I may fleep fafely. 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 ARNOLPH, AGNES. 
 
 ARNOLPH concealed under hiscloke, and altering 
 his voice. 
 
 COME along, I have prepared a lodging elfe- 
 where for you, and you (hall not ftay here ; 
 I intend to put you in a place where you may be 
 fafe enough. [Difcovering himfelf.J Do you know 
 me? 
 
 Agnes knowing him.] Hah ! 
 
 Amclph. You are frightened, I think, huffy, at 
 feeing me, and are undoubtedly very much dif- 
 pleafed at finding me here: I have very luckily in- 
 terrupted the love-contrivances you have in your 
 head. [Agnes looks if (he cannot fee Horace.l Think 
 not that your eyes can call back ycurfpark to your 
 afliftance, he is gone too far for that. Ha! ha! fo 
 young, and yet to play thefe pranks! Your extra- 
 ordinary feeming ignorance enquired if children 
 wereproduced at the ear, though you are not ignorant 
 how to make aflignations by night, and fleal a- 
 way very filently to run after a galant. Odfbobs,
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. -15 
 
 how flippant your tongue was with him! fureyou 
 mull have been at fome rare fchool: Pray who has 
 taught you all this fo fuddenly ? You are no long- 
 er it feems afraid of ghofts ? This galant has given 
 you courage in the night-time. Ah! baggage, 
 to arrive at this deceit ! to form fuch a defign, re- 
 gardlefsof all rny kindnefs: Thou art a little fer- 
 pent that I have warmed in my bofom, which when 
 it comes to its feeling, ungratefully tries to kill 
 him who preferred its life. 
 
 Agnes. Why do ye fcold at me? 
 Arnolph. I am very much to blame, indeed. 
 Agnes. I do not know any harm in all this that 
 I have done. 
 
 Arnolph. Is not running after a galant a fcan- 
 tlalous action ? 
 
 Agnes. It is a man that fays he will take me 
 for his wife, I followed your directions; for you 
 told me one muft marry to take away the guilt. 
 
 Arnolph. Ay, but I intended to make you my 
 own wife, andmethinks I let you know my mean- 
 ing plain enough. 
 
 Agnes. Yes, but to tell you the truth, I lore 
 him better than you; matrimony with you is a 
 troublefome uneafy thing, and you give a frightful 
 detcriptionof it; but alack-a-day ! he represents it 
 fo delightful, that it makes one have a mind to be 
 married. 
 
 Arnolph. Ah! traitrefs! that is becaufe you 
 love him. 
 
 Agnes. Really I do love him. 
 Arnolph. And have you the impudence to tell 
 me fo ? 
 
 Agnej. Why may not I fay fo, if it is true? 
 Arnolph. Oughtyouto lovehim, impertinence?
 
 C. I 6 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 Agnes Alas! can I help it? He only is the 
 caufe of it; I did not think of it till it was over. 
 
 Arnolph. But you fliould have difcarded that 
 amorous defire. 
 
 Agnes. How can a body difcard what is delight- 
 ful ? 
 
 Arnolph. And are you ignorant that I am dif- 
 pleafed at it ? 
 
 Agnes. Not at all; What harm can it do you ? 
 
 Arnolph. Very true, I have reafon to be glad 
 at it. You do not love me then at this rate ? 
 
 Agnes. You4 
 
 Arnolph. Ay, 
 
 Agnes. Indeed I do not 
 
 Arnolph. How! no? 
 
 Agnes. Would you have me tell you a falf- 
 hood ? 
 
 Arnolph- What is the reafon that you do not 
 love me, madam impudence ? 
 
 Agnes. Lack-a-day, you mould not blame me ! 
 Why did not you make yourfelf beloved as he did ? 
 If I hindered you, it was without my knowledge. 
 
 Arnolph. I endeavoured it all I could, but my 
 pains were in vain. 
 
 Agnes. Then he underftands it better than you 
 do, for he made me love him without the leaft 
 pains. 
 
 Arnolph afide.]] Obferve how the flut anfwers 
 and argues! None of your witty ladies could have 
 faid mo r e. Ah ! I did not well know her, or elfe, 
 by my faith, in thefe cafes a fimple woman under- 
 ftands more th?n the wifeftman.[To Agnes.] Since 
 you are fo good at reafoning, Mrs. Chop-Logick, 
 is there any reafon why I fliould maintain you fo 
 long a ti,me at my own charge for him ?
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 1 IJ 
 
 Agnes. No, he wiL repay you every thing. 
 
 Arnolph afide.] She hits upon certain words 
 which give me double vexation. [To Agnes.} Is 
 he able, gypfey, to repay me the obligations you 
 have to me ? 
 
 Agnes. I have no fuch great ones as you think. 
 
 Arnolph. Is it nothing to take care of your e- 
 ducation from your childhood? 
 
 Agnes. You have been at great pains about that 
 matter truly, and have caufed me to be bravely in- 
 ftrufted in every thing. Do ye imagine I flatter 
 myfelf fo far as not to know in my own mind that 
 1 am intirely ignorant? I am afhamed of it my- 
 felf, and at this age will not pafs any longer for a 
 fool, if I can help it. 
 
 Arnolph. You defpife ignorance, and are re- 
 folved, whatever it cods, to learn fomething of your 
 galanf. ? 
 
 Agnes. To be fure. He has taught me what 
 I do know, and I think myfelf more obliged to 
 him than you. 
 
 Arnolph. I cannot tell what fhould prevent me 
 from revenging this faucy language with my fift. 
 I am diftracled at the fight of her provoking colcl- 
 nefs, and beating her would be a fatisfaclion to me. 
 
 Agnes. If that will pleafe you, you are very 
 welcome to doit. 
 
 Arnolph afide.] That fpeech and that look dif- 
 arm my rage, and produce a return of tendernefs 
 which effaces all her guilt. "What ftrange efrecls 
 does love produce! and how weak do men make 
 themfelves appear, for thefe gypfies I Every body- 
 knows their imperfection ; they are nothing but ex- 
 travagance and indifcretion j their mind is wicked 
 and their underftanding weak-, nothing is more 
 
 VOL. II. K
 
 2 rS THE SCHOOL FOR vivrs. 
 
 frail, nothing more unfteaily, nothing inore falfe, 
 and yet for all that one dots ti.e greater! abfurdi- 
 ties for their fake. [To -'unies.J Weil, let us make 
 peace: Go, then little ro^ue, I forgive thee every 
 thing, and now am fond of thee again: Learn by 
 this how much I love thee, and feeing I am fo 
 good, love thou me in return. 
 
 Agives. I would very willingly oblige you, if k 
 was in my power. 
 
 Arnolph. My dear life, thou canfl if thou 
 wouldft. Do but hear that -amorous figh, behold 
 this dying look, view my perfon, and lay all 
 thoughts afule of this young coxcomb, and the 
 love he offers thee. He muft certainly have put 
 fome fpell upon thee, and thou wilt be a hundred 
 times more happy with me. Thou delighteft in 
 being fine and gay, and I p rote ft thou {halt always 
 befo. I (hall be fondling thee ccminr,r.Ily; I fball 
 . hug thee, and kifs thee. Thou (halt do everything 
 thou chufeft, which is faying all that can be kid 
 without coming to particulars. [A fide.] How 
 far will mypafiion go? [Aloud,] Nothing leaily 
 can be equal to my love. What proof of it woulufl 
 thou have roe give thee, ungrateful wer.ch ? 
 Would ft thou bthold ir.c v/eep? Wouldft thon 
 have me beat myfelf ? "Wouldi'l thou have me tear 
 ciPmy hair? Would'ft thou have n:e irurder iry- 
 felf? Ay; fay if thou would ft have me do it; I um 
 iniircly ready, -cruel cieature, to convince thee of 
 my love. 
 
 Agnes. Hold j I am not in the leaft aiTeclct! 
 at all you fay ; Horace Avith two words would have 
 wrought upon me mere than you. 
 
 Arnolph. Heh! this is too great an infult, .pro- 
 voking my rage too far: I will purfue my dcfign,
 
 TKIi SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 219 
 
 you untraclable brute, and pack you out of toAvn 
 immediately. You vex me, and reject my addref- 
 fes, but depend upon it, if you do not behave bet- 
 ter, I will fend you to a convent. 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 A R N O L P H, AGNES, ALLEN. 
 A LLEN. 
 
 I Know not bow it is, Sir, but methought the 
 dead corps and Agnes went away together, 
 ArnoJph. Here fiie is: Go confine her in my 
 chamber. A fide.] He wili not come there to feek 
 her, Befules, it bonly for half an hour. I will 
 go get a coach, that I may fccure her in a more 
 convenient place, Fallen yourfelves in well, and 
 be fuie do not let her be out of fight. [_ Alone,] 
 It rs^fome comfort to*ne, that I can eafily turn 
 her head from this iove-afFair, when {he is out of 
 town. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 
 H O R ACE, A R N I, P H, 
 HORACE. 
 
 WHAT woeful news have I now to tell 
 you, dear friend! Fate is determined that 
 I never lliall be happy, and is going again to 
 wrefl my beloved Agnes from me. I juft now 
 faw my father arrive, who tells me that he has 
 made a match for me, without writing mea word a- 
 bout it, and is come to this plaCe to celebrate the 
 nuptials. You are fenfible what a great difap- 
 K 2
 
 22O THE SCHOOL -FOR WIVES. 
 
 pointment this is to me. That Henriques of whom 
 I fpoke to you yefterday is ccme with my father, 
 ; nd it is to his daughter that they intend to mar- 
 iy me. I almofl fainted when 1 firit heard it, and 
 not caring to hear any more of it, (as my father 
 talked of coming to fee you) I hafted hither before 
 hand, very. much perplexed. Do not tell him a 
 word, I beg of you, of my engagement, which might 
 incenfehim; and endeavour to'diffiiade him from 
 this frefti engagement, for no one's words have 
 greater power over him than yours. 
 
 Arnolph. I (hall do all in my power. 
 
 Horace. Advife him to put it off a little, and 
 as a friend, aflifl my.pailion in this particular. 
 
 Arnolph. I really mall ufe my utrnoft endea- 
 vours. 
 
 Horace. My hopes are all in you. 
 
 Arnolph. Very well. 
 
 Horace. I look upon you as my real father. 
 Tell him that my age -But here he comes j hear 
 the rcafons I can furnifh you with. 
 
 S C E N E VII. 
 
 HENRIOJJES, O:R ANTES, C I-I B. I S A L D U S, 
 HORACE, ARNOLPH. 
 
 Horace and Arnolph .retire to a cornercf the ftagc, 
 and whifper. 
 
 H E N R I QJJ E s to Chrifaldue. 
 
 HAD I not been told who you were, I mould 
 have known you: I recollected your amia- 
 ble fitter's features, whom the facred ties of wed- 
 lock once united to me ; what pleafure fliould 1
 
 i- in; SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 2Zi 
 
 n >',v have had, in bringing her to fee all ourfriends, 
 alter our nimiberlds calamities! but cruel heaven 
 denies me that delight, and has robbed me of her 
 fweet company: Let us therefore endeavour to be 
 contented with the only i"i u it that remains of our 
 loves. You are very nearly concerned in it, and 
 to difpofe of this pledge without your confent 
 would be very v/rong. The choice of Orontes's 
 fon is in itft'ii honourable, but you muff, be pleafed 
 in the choice a:; well as me. 
 
 Chrifaldus. It is having a bad opinion of my 
 judgment, to doubt my approbation of fo reafona- 
 ble a choice. 
 
 Arnclph afide to Horace.] Ay, I will ferveyou 
 in trie beft manner. 
 
 Horace afide to Arnslph.] flat beware of one 
 thiag 
 
 Arnolph to Horace.] Be under no concern. 
 fjArnolph quits Horace to embrace Oronts. 
 
 Orontes toA-rnolph.J O! howfullof tendernefo 
 Is this embrace! 
 
 Arnolph. What pieafure it gives me to fee you! 
 
 OronteSi I am come hither 
 
 Arnolph. I already know it. 
 
 Orontes. Have you been informed already? 
 
 Arnolph. Yes. 
 
 Orontes. So much the better. 
 
 Arnolph. Your fon hates this rnntch, and his 
 heart being pre-engaged looks upon it as a misfor- 
 tune: He even cleGred me to dHTuade you from it; 
 and for my part, all the advice I can give you is 
 to exert the authority of a father, and not let the 
 marriage be deferred. Young people fhould be 
 governed with an high hand, they are frequently 
 fppiled by being indulgent to them. 
 K 3
 
 222 THE SCHOOL FOR. WIVES. 
 
 Horace afidc.] Oh! Traitor! 
 
 Chrifaldus. If it is againft his inclination, I 
 think we fhould not force him. My brother, I 
 believe, will be of the fame way of thinking. 
 
 Arnolph. What! will hefuffer his fon to go- 
 vern him? Would ycu have a father be fo weak as 
 not to know how to make youth obey him? To 
 fee him receiving laws' at this time of life from 
 one who ought to receive them from him, would 
 be mighty pretty. No, no, he is my intimate 
 friend, and his honour is mine, his promife is gi- 
 ven, and hemuft perform it. Let him now fhew 
 his refoliition, and force his foa's affections. 
 
 Orontes. You fay right, and to what regards 
 this match, I will be anfwerable for my fen's obe- 
 dience. 
 
 Chrifaldus to ArnolphJ You furprizeme great- 
 ly by being fo eager for this match, and I cannot 
 
 conceive why 
 
 . Arnolph. I know what I know, and fpeak what 
 I ought to fpeak. 
 
 Orontes. Ay, ay, Mr. Arnolph, he is 
 
 Chrifaldus. He is difpleafed at that name, it is 
 Mr. tie la Souche, as you have been told already. 
 
 Arnolph. It does not fignify. 
 
 Horace afide. ^ What is this I hear? 
 
 Arnolph turning towards Horace.]] Ay, there 
 lies the fecret, and you may judge what I ought 
 to do; 
 
 Horace afidc.} Into what uneafinefs
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 
 HENRIQJJES, OP. ONTES, C H R I S A L D U S, 
 HORACE, A R NO I. P H, G E O B G E T T A. 
 
 GEORGE T T A. 
 
 AGNES fays foe \vifl run all hazardstomake 
 her efcape, Sir, and wil] perhaps throw her- 
 idf out at the v:indo\v, if you tlo not come and 
 l.i'p r.s to keep her. 
 
 Arnolph. Brirg her to me,. for I intend to take 
 her away from hence immsdiately. [To Horace.]] 
 Do not you be troubled at it, continual good for- 
 tune would make a man proud, and every dog has 
 his ii.-.y, as the proverb fays. 
 
 Horace. Never \vus r.ny body fo unfortunate as 
 I am! 
 
 Arnolph to OrontcsJ Haften the day of the ce- 
 remony? I beg it may be fo, and invite myfelf to 
 it already. 
 . Orontes. That is my real intention, 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 
 AGNES, ORONTES, H E N R I QJJ E S, A R-- 
 
 'N O L P H, H O R A C E, C H R I S A L U U S, A L- 
 LEN, G-E OR G.ETTA. 
 
 ARNOLPH to Agnes. 
 
 COME here, my pretty girl, come here, you 
 who will have your own way, and cannot 
 be managed; here is your fpark, you may make 
 him a fubmiflive courtfy, byway of amends. [To< 
 Horace.] Farewel, the affair has not turned out 
 K 4
 
 224 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES.. 
 
 according to our wifhes, but lovers are net all 
 lucky. 
 
 Agnes. Horace, do you allow me to be forced 
 away in this manner? 
 
 Horace. My grief is fo great, I am infenfibk.. 
 
 Arnolph. Come along, with your chit-chat, 
 come along. 
 
 Agnes. I will flay here. 
 
 Orontes. Explain this myftery to us; we flare 
 ene at another without being able to underftand it. 
 
 Arnolph. I will tell you at a more convenient 
 time. Your fervant. 
 
 Orontes. Where do you intend to go to ? 
 You do not inform us of what we want to know. 
 
 Arnolph. I have advifed you to conclude the 
 match in fpite of his repining. 
 
 Orcntes. But in order to conclude it (if you 
 have been told all) did they not tell you that the 
 perfon who we mean is in your houfe juft now, 
 and is the daughter of the charming Angelica, 
 which fhe had fecretly by Mr. Henriques ? What 
 could be the fubjeft of your converfation juft now? 
 
 Chrifaldus. His behaviour furprized me too. 
 
 Arnolph. Ho.w? 
 
 Chrifaldus. My fifter had one daughter by a 
 private marriage, which was unknown to the 
 whole family. 
 
 Orontes. And for the fake of keeping it fecret, 
 her hufband put it out to nurfe in the country, 
 under a feigned name. 
 
 Chrifaldus. And at that time he was fo unfor- 
 tunate as to be obliged to leave his native country. 
 
 Orontes. And in foreign countries to undergo a 
 great many dangers. 
 
 Chrifaldus. What he was deprived of at home
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR \\MVES. 225 
 
 by villainy and envy, he has gained abroad by his 
 own induftry. 
 
 Oiontes. When he returned to France, his firft 
 caa: iv.is t' make enquiry after the perfon who had 
 the care of Ms daughter. 
 
 Chrifaldus. He was informed by thecountrywo- 
 man, that you got her into your poffeflion, when 
 ihe was but four years old, 
 
 Oront.es. As flic was very poor, and you of a 
 charitable difpofition, fhe gave up the child . 
 
 Chriialdus. And he has brought the woman 
 here, to his great joy. 
 
 Orontes. In a little time fhewill be here to clear 
 up the matter. 
 
 Chrifaldus toArnolph/j I have a tolerable good 
 guefs how you muft be mortified by this, but for- 
 tune is kind to you 5 and, as to avoid being a cuck- 
 old is your very great .happinefs, you are fure to 
 attain it by avoiding, matrimony. 
 
 Arnolph turning away in a great fury, and un-- 
 able to fpeak. 
 
 Ahl 
 
 S^C E N E THE LAS T. 
 
 HENRIQ^UES, ORONTES, C H R 1 S A L D U B, 
 AGNES, HORACE. 
 
 ORONTES. 
 
 WHAT makes him run away without' 
 fpeaking? 
 
 Horace. I will, acquaint you with the whole 
 
 of this odd affair. Father, the fame thing which 
 
 your prudence intended for this lovely girl, is come 
 
 to pafs by accident; the tender ties -of mutual love 
 
 * 5
 
 226 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES. 
 
 engaged me ftriftly. She is the very perfon you 
 came in fearch, of, and I thought you would have 
 been difobliged at my refufal, on her account. 
 
 Henriques. From the firft minute I faw her, I 
 had not the fmalleft doubt of it. From that time 
 my heart has yearned after her. Oh, my daugh- 
 ter ! I yield to fuch tender tranfports. 
 
 Chrifaldus. With all my heart, I could do fo, 
 brother, as well as you; but let us go into the 
 houfeto clear up matters, this is not a proper place; 
 let us difcharge the obligations we owe our friend, 
 and return thanks to heaven, which orders every 
 thing for the beft. 
 
 THE END.
 
 T H E 
 
 SCHOOLFOR WIVES 
 CRITICISED. 
 
 A 
 
 C O M E D Y.
 
 The SCHOOL for WIVES CRITICISED, a Comedy 
 of One Aft, atted at the Theatre of the Palace- 
 Royal the i ft of June 1663. 
 
 TH E criticifms upon the comedy of theSc HOC L 
 for WIVES were for a long time no other- 
 wife oppofed by Moliere, than by the continued 
 reprefentations of it, which were always crowded, 
 nor washeatthe leaft pains to fupprefs them, in part 
 at leaft, till the month of June, 1663, when he 
 brought out his comedy of th'e SCHOOL for 
 WIVES CRITICISED. The fubjecT; feemed only 
 proper for a diflertation, and of courfe admitted 
 of neither intrigue nor cataftrophe: But the author 
 always kept in view the object which a comic 
 writer fhould never lofe fight of, in whatever kind 
 of performances he brings on the ftage. He knew, 
 from what had pafied in the polite afTemblies of 
 Paris, whilft the SCHOOL fbr.WiVEs was talked 
 of, to draw a faithful picture of one part of civil life, 
 by copying the language and character of the com- 
 mon converfations of the people of fafhion. He 
 feems to have had it as much in view, by his 
 choice of ridiculous characters, to fatirize his 
 cenfurers, as to apoligize for his piece: feduced 
 perhaps by the tendency of human fpleen, which 
 makes people think, that by attacking others is the 
 beft way to defend themfelves. Bcurfalt played the 
 Counter-Critick, or the Painter's Picture, at the 
 Hotel de Bourgogne, at the fame time, in which 
 he followed Moliere's plan and manner, but went
 
 too far in fuppofing a known key to the SCHOOL. 
 for WIVES, which pointed out the originals copied^ 
 from nature. 
 
 ACTORS* 
 
 URANIA. 
 
 ELIZA. 
 
 CLIMENE. 
 
 THE "MARQJJIS. 
 
 DORANTES, or the KNIGHT. 
 
 LYSIDAS, a Poet. 
 
 GALOPIN, a Footman. 
 
 SCENE PARIS, in Urania's houfe.
 
 THE 
 
 SCHOOL FOR WIVES 
 CRITICISED. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 URANIA, ELIZA. 
 URANIA. 
 
 is there nobody come to vifityou, 
 coufin? 
 
 Eliza. Not a creature. 
 Urania. Indeed I am amazed that 
 none of us have had company to-day. 
 
 Eliza. I am furprized too; it is not common, 
 as all the faunterers about court generally refort 
 to your houfe. 
 
 Urania. I confefs the afternoon appears long to 
 me. 
 
 Eliza. And very fhort to me. 
 Urania. It is common j coufin, for folitude to be 
 agreeable to fine wits.
 
 232 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 
 
 Eliza. Your humble fervant; you are fenfible I 
 do not affecl to be. a wit; 
 
 Urania. I own^ for my part, I love company. 
 Eliza. Company is agreeable to me too, but on- 
 ly a (elect party; the many tirefome vifits one is 
 obliged to endure amongft your other forts makes 
 me admire folitude, 
 
 Urania. Your delicacy is too greet to be fond 
 of felecl company only. 
 
 Eliza. I think it is too great complaifance to be 
 equally fond of all company. 
 
 Urania. The extravagant divert me, and reafo- 
 nable people give me pleafure. 
 
 Eliza. Fkeally, extravagant people arefeldom. 
 entertaining after the fecond vifit, their company 
 foon grows tirefome. But let us talk on that head; 
 will you not rid me of your trifling Marquis? Do 
 you fuppofe that -I {hall always- hold out againft 
 his continual jokes? 
 
 Urania. It i& a fafhionable language at court, 
 which they make themfelves merry with. 
 
 Eliza. It is bad for thofe who do fo, and rack 
 their brainj all the day to converfe in this fhipid 
 jargon. A pretty thing to bring into the conver- 
 fation of the Louvre, your double entendres, raked 
 together from the kennels of Halles and Place 
 Maubert! A fine manner of jefting for courtiers,- 
 and of a man's {hewing his v. r it by coming andfay^ 
 ing: Madam, you are at the Place Pioyal, end all 
 the world fees you three leagues from Paris; for e- 
 very b9dy fees you with a goo:l eye; becaufe Bo- 
 neuilis a village at three leagues diftant fromhenceJ 
 Is it not very gallant, and very witty? And have 
 not they who hit upon thefe pretty puns, reafon to 
 be proud of them?
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVT.S CRITICISED. 233 
 
 Urania. They do not, at the fame time, fpeuk 
 this as a piece of wit, for moft of thofc people who- 
 affect this language know that it is ridiculous. 
 
 Eliza. It is (till worfe to ftudy to repeat filly 
 things, and to be furry jefters on purpofe. I think 
 them much lefs excufable on that account, and I 
 know very well to what I would condemn thefe 
 joking gentlemen. 
 
 Urania. Come, let us have done v.'ith this af- 
 fair, it warms you too much. I think Dorantes. 
 is long in coming to fup with us. 
 
 Eliza. He may have forgot it probably, and 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 GALOPIN, URANIA, ELIZA. 
 GALO PIN. 
 
 CLIMENE is come to pay you a vifit, Ma- 
 dam. 
 
 Urania. Oh! blefs me! what a vifitis this! 
 
 Eliza. In this manner heaven .puniihes you for 
 your diilike of retirement. 
 
 Urania. Hade and tell her that I' am from nome, 
 
 Galopin. She is informed already that you are 
 here. 
 
 Urania. Who was fo filly as to tell her that? 
 
 Galopin. I, madam. 
 
 Urania. The devil is in tire boy; I (hall teach 
 you to give anfwers before I am acquainted with it. 
 
 Galopin. Madam, I will go and contradict it. 
 
 Urania. Hold, you little fool, as you have blun- 
 dered, let her come up {burs. 
 
 Galopin. She is ftill converfing with a ma in 
 the ftreet.
 
 234 T HE SCHOOL FOR M'lVES CRITICISED. 
 
 Urania. Oh! coufin, ho\v this vifit perplexes 
 me juflr now! 
 
 Eliza. Really the woman is exceflively trouble- 
 fome: I always hated her, and looked upon her 
 as one of the ftupidtft perfons that ever pretended- 
 to common fenfe. 
 
 Urania. The epithet is rather firong. 
 
 Elvira. In juftice fhe defer ves this and more,.. 
 1 never fav? a perfon ib alkcted. 
 
 Urania. Yet fhe would feem quite the reverfe. 
 
 Elvira. Indeed fhe would appear ctherwife, but 
 fhe is fo formal, that her whole body feems as if 
 it were out of joint; her head, lips and fhoulders 
 appear as if they went by clock-work. She afTecls 
 a languishing manner of (peaking, rolls her eyes 
 to make them appear Ir.rge, and draws up her 
 mouth to make it look fmall. 
 
 Urania. Hufh! what if fbeihouldhear you thus-- 
 
 Eliza. No, no, fhe is not fo near. Well do B 
 remember the evening that fhe wanted to fee Da- 
 mon, on account of his reputation, and the things 
 he has publifhed! You are acquainted with the 
 man, and how indolent he is in keeping up a con- 
 verfation. She gave him an invitation to fup, 
 with half a dozen other people, imagining he 
 would entertain them with his wit ; but never did- 
 he appear fo fimple; the company expected that 
 he would divert them by his jcfts, and that he 
 had fo much wit as to make extemporary repartees 
 upon every thing that was faid, and even not to- 
 call for any thing but with a witticifm; but his fi- 
 lence furprifed them, and he gave the lady as lit- 
 tle pleafure as fhe gave me. 
 
 Urania. Be filent. I will go to the room-door. 
 and receive her.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED-. 23 % 
 
 Eliza. Hear one word more. What an admir- 
 able union it would be between a flic-coxcomb and 
 a jeiler! I wifli flie were mankd to bim. 
 
 Urania. Here fbe comes-, be filent. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 CLIMNE, UHANIA, EI.IZA, GALOP.IN. 
 U R A N I A. 
 
 IT id very late indeed that 
 Climene. Order a cbair dire<Uy, for God's 
 fcke. 
 
 Urania to Galopin..] Make hafte, and bring an 
 armed cbair here. 
 
 Climene. Oh! Heavens L 
 
 Urania. What is the matter then ? 
 
 Climene. I can fupport no longer. 
 
 Urania. What is the matter with you? 
 
 Climene. I faint. 
 
 Urania. Are you feized with vapours? 
 . Climene. No. 
 
 Urania. Shall I unlace you ? 
 
 Climene. O no. Oh! 
 
 Urania. What is your illnefs? and when were 
 you feized ? 
 
 Climene. I came from court three hours ago, 
 and was ill then. 
 
 Urania. How? 
 
 Ciimone. I have been- puniihed for my fins, by 
 being prcfcnt at the performing of that vile rhap- 
 fody, the School for Wives. It occafioned me a 
 fainting fit, which I have not yet recovered, nor 
 lh:'ll I be well tlv.fe two weeks. 
 
 Eliza. We get nineties without expecting them.
 
 2:36 THE SCHOOL FOR \VIVES CRITICISED-. 
 
 Urania. My ccufm and I mufl be of very dif- 
 ferent ccm dilutions from you, as we law the fame 
 piece performed the day before yefterday, and 
 both came home merry and well. 
 
 Climene. Have you feen it? 
 
 Urania, Yes, and heard it from beginning to 
 end. 
 
 Cl 
 fits ? 
 
 Urania. Thank God I am not fo delicate, and 
 I really think this play fhould rathei mend people, 
 than make them fick. 
 
 Climene. Blefs me! what do you fay? will a 
 perfon who has the leaft fhare of fenfe, advance 
 this propofition? Can any perfon, with impunity, 
 quarrel with reafon, as you do? And ca-n there 
 really be a mind fo famifhed for drollery, as to 
 tafte the filiy things thhs play is made up of? I 
 really could not find the kaft grain of fenfe in it : 
 children by the ear, had, to my thinking, a de- 
 teftable gout: the cream tart turned myftomach; 
 and I thought I mould have thrown up all the por- 
 ridge. 
 
 Eliza. Heavens i'moft efegantly fpoken ! I fhould 
 have thought this piece had been good; but the 
 lady has fo perfuafive an eloquence, fhe turns 
 things in fo agreeable a manner, that one muft be 
 of her opinion in fpite of one's felf. 
 
 Urania. For my part, 1 am not fo complai- 
 fant; and to tell you. my real thoughts, I look up- 
 on this comedy to be one of the moft diverting the 
 author ever wrote. 
 
 Climene. Oh ! you make me pity you, to talk 
 in this manner; I cannot bear this obfcurity of 
 difcernment. Can one who has the lead: virtue, 
 find any thing agreeable in a piece that keeps one's
 
 THE SCHOOL FOU WIVES CRITICISED. 237 
 
 modefty under a perpetual alarm, and fullies the 
 imagination at every turn ? 
 
 Eliza. What a pretty manner of fpeaking is that ? 
 How terribly rough you play, madam, in criti- 
 cii'm ? Moliere is much to be pitied when he has 
 fuch an enemy as you. 
 
 Climene. Believe me, my dear, correct in good 
 earned your judgment; and for your honour do 
 not let any body know that you were pleafed with 
 this comedy. 
 
 Urania. Why really I faw nothing in it fo fhoc- 
 king to modefty as you fay. 
 
 Climene. The whole of it is fo; and it is im- 
 pofiible for a virtuous woman to fee k without 
 confufion, there is fo much ordure in it. 
 
 Urania. You muft have a particular difcern- 
 ment then for ordure ; for I faw none in it. 
 
 Climene. It is undoubtedly, becaufe you will 
 not fee it; for in (hort, all this ordure is, thank 
 heaven, naked to the eye; it has not the leaft 
 cover to conceal it, and the nudity of it {hocks the 
 boldcft eyes. 
 Eliza. Oh! 
 Climene. Ha, hn, ha. 
 
 Urania. Pray point me out fome of this -ordure 
 you fpeak of, if you pleafe. 
 
 Climene. Lack-a-day! is it neceflary to point 
 it 'Out? 
 
 Urania. Yes; I only afk of you one paflage that 
 was very (hocking to you. 
 
 Climene. Needs there any other than the fcene 
 wherein Agnes tells what they took from her. 
 
 Urania. And is there the l-fait fmuttinefs in 
 that ? 
 
 Climene. Ah !
 
 238 THE SCHOOL FOR AY IVE S CRI Ti CISED . 
 
 Urania. Pray? 
 
 Climene, Fy. 
 
 Urania. Nay, but? 
 
 Climene. I have nothing to lay to yon. 
 
 Urania. For my part, I do not fee the lead harm 
 in it. 
 
 Climene. So much the "vvorfe for you. 
 
 Urania. Rather fo much the better, I think. I 
 obferve things on the fide that is fhewn me; and 
 do not turn them about, to find what I ought not 
 to fee. 
 
 Climene. A lady's moclelly 
 
 Urania. Confifcs not in grimace. It ill be- 
 comes one to be wifer than thofe who are wife : 
 affectation in this affair is worfe than every thing 
 elfe.; and nothing appears to me fo foolifh as that 
 delicacy of honour which takes every thing in a 
 wrong light, gives a criminal fenfe to the mod in- 
 nocent words, and is offended at the fhadcw of 
 things. Believe me, they who make fo much ado 
 are not clleemed the mod virtuous women. On 
 the contrary, their myderious feverity, and affect- 
 ed grimace provoke the ccnfure of every body up- 
 on the actions of their lives. People are glad to 
 difccver any thing to carp at; and to give you an 
 in'lance, -there was fomc ladies at this play the o- 
 ther day, overagaind the box we were in, who by 
 the looks they affected during the whole piece, the 
 turning afide their heads, and the hiding their fa- 
 ces, cccaficned feveral filly things being faid on 
 their conduct, all round them, that would never 
 have been faid without this; and even one of the 
 footmen cried out aloud, that they were more chade 
 in their ears than all the red of their bodies. ,
 
 T-HE SCHOOL FORAVIVES CRITICISED. 239 
 
 Clirnene. In fliort, one niuft be blind in this 
 piece, and not fcem to fee things. . 
 
 Urania. One ought not to fee in it what is not 
 in it. 
 
 Climene. Ah ! I maintain it once more, that the 
 fmuttinefs in it puts out one's eyes. 
 Urania. And I do not think fo. 
 Climene. What ? does not Agnes, in the paf- 
 fage we are fpeaking of, fay what vifibly fhocks 
 modefty ? 
 
 Urania. No truly: me fays not one word but 
 what, of itfelf, is decent enough; and if you will 
 conceive fomething elfe as couched under it, it is 
 you who make the ordure, and not (he, fince (he 
 fpcaks of nothing but the ribbon which was taken 
 from her. 
 
 Ciimene. Hoh! Pubbon as long as you pleafe, 
 but tliat 'my that (he ftops at is not put there for 
 nothing. Comical thoughts arife upon this my. 
 This my is furioufty fcandalous; and fay what you 
 can, you can never defend the infolence of it. 
 
 Eliza. True, coufin, I*nm for the lady againft 
 this my. My is to the laft degree infolent, and 
 ycu are in the wrong to defend this my. 
 
 Climene. It has an obfcenity that one ca mot 
 bear. 
 
 Eliza. How do ycu call that word, madam? 
 Ciimene. Obfcenity, madam. 
 Eliza. Hch ! good lack-a-day! Obfcenity. I do 
 not underfland this word, but I think it is the pret- 
 tied I ever heard. 
 
 Climene. In (hort, you fee your own relation 
 takes my part. 
 
 Urar.ia. O dear! {he is a tattling girl, who
 
 *fO THE SCHOOL TOR WIV1 : . fE!>. 
 
 fpeaks contrary to what fhe thi> wiil not 
 
 much depend upon her if you w; . - e me. 
 
 Eliza. Fy! how cruel you are ;v.al;ehe lady 
 fufpeclme! confuler a little what condition 1 fheuld 
 "be in fhould (lie believe what y^u fay. Am I fo 
 far unhappy, madam, that you fhould entertain this 
 "thought of me ? 
 
 Climene. No, no, I regard net her words, I 
 think you more fincere than fhe fays. 
 
 Eliza. Oh! you are infinitely in the right, ma- 
 dam ; and you do me juftice when you believe I 
 >think you the moft engaging perfon I ever beheld; 
 that I enter into all your fentiments, and am char- 
 med with every expreflion you utter. 
 
 Climene. Pray fpeak not fo a:Tecledly. 
 
 Eliza. One fees it, madam, very plainly, and 
 that every thing is natural in you. Your words, 
 the tone of your voice, your looks, your gait, your 
 action and your clrefs, have an air of quality in 
 them that inchant people. I ftudy you by my 
 eyes, by my ears; and am fo full of you, that I 
 endeavour to imitate you in every thing. 
 
 Climene. You are pleafed to banter me, ma- 
 dam. 
 
 Eliza. Pardon ms, madam, who could banter 
 you? 
 
 Climene. I am no good model, madam. 
 
 Eliza. Oh! yes, madam. 
 
 Ciimene. You flatter me, madam. 
 
 Eliza. Indeed, madam, I do not. 
 
 Climene* Pray, madam, have a little mercy on 
 me. 
 
 Eliza. I have fo much mercy on you, that I do 
 net fay half of what I think of you. 
 
 Climene. Oh heavens! Let us drop it, pray-
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 241 
 
 You would throw me into a horrible confufion. 
 [To Urania.] You fee in fhort, madam, we are 
 both againft you, and obfdnacy fits fo ill upon 
 witty people that 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 THE. MARC^UIS, CLIMENE, GALOPIN, 
 URANIA, ELIZA. 
 
 GALOPIN at the chamber door. 
 
 I RAY flop, Sir, if you pieafe. 
 
 The Marquis. Doll thou know who I am, 
 fellow ? 
 
 Galopin. I know you very well, but you fliall 
 not go in. 
 
 The Marquis. Hey, what a buftle is here, you lit- 
 tle fkip-jack. 
 
 Galopin. It is not fair to endeavour to get in, 
 in fpite of people's teeth. 
 
 The Marquis. I will fee thy miflrefs. 
 
 Galopin. She is not within, I tell you. 
 
 The Marquis. Why there (lie is in her cham- 
 ber. 
 
 Galopin. That is true, flie is there; but flie is 
 not at home for all that. 
 
 Urania. "What is the meaning of this? what is 
 the matter there? 
 
 The Marquis. It is your footman, madam, who 
 is playing the fool. 
 
 Galopin. I tell him, madam, you are not at 
 home, and yet he will come in 'whether I will or 
 no. 
 
 Urania. And why did you tell the gentleman 
 that I am not at home? 
 
 VOL. II. L
 
 242 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 
 
 Galopin You was very angry with me the o- 
 ther day for telling him you were at home. 
 
 Urania. See the infolence of this knave! Pray, 
 Sir, do not believe what he fays; it is a little gid- 
 dy brained rogue, and he takes you for another 
 perfon. 
 
 The Marquis. I faw it plainly, madam, and had 
 it not been in refper, to you, I mould have taught 
 him to know people of quality. 
 
 Eliza. My coufin is much obliged to you for 
 this deference. 
 
 Urania to Galopin.] A chair there, fauce-box. 
 
 Galopin. Is not there one? 
 
 Urania. Bring it hither. 
 
 [[Galopin pufhes the chair rudely, and goes out, 
 
 SCENE V. 
 
 THE MARQJJIS, CL/MEN'E, URANIA, ELIZA. 
 THE MAfcQJCMS. 
 
 TPIAT lacquey of yours, madam, has a con- 
 tempt for my perfon. 
 
 Eliza. He would be much to blame, certainly. 
 
 The Marquis. It is perhaps becaufe I pay intc- 
 reft for my ill looks. [Laughs.] He, he, he! 
 
 Eliza. He will know people of quality better 
 when he grows older. 
 
 The Marquis. What v/ere you talking about, 
 ladies, when I interrupted you? 
 
 Urania. Aboutthe play of TheSchool foi Wives. 
 
 The Marquis. I am but jufb come from it, 
 
 Climene. Well, Sir, what is your opinion of 
 it?
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 243 
 
 The Marquis. Why, I think it is very foolifli. 
 
 Climenc. Oh ! how glad am I of that! 
 
 The Marquis. The mod villainous thing in the 
 world. What the duce! I could fcarce get a 
 place. I thought I fhould have been ftifledat the. 
 door, and never was I fo trampled upon. Sec, 
 pray, what a condition my rollers and ribbons are 
 in. 
 
 Eliza. Why really, this cries vengeance againft 
 The School for Wives, and you juftly condemn it. 
 
 The Marquis. I dare fay there never was fuch 
 a wretched performance. 
 
 Urania. But here comes Doranr.es, whom we 
 expected. 
 
 S C E N E VI. 
 
 DORANTES, THE MARQJJIS, CLIMENE, ELIZA, 
 URANIA. 
 
 DORANTES. 
 
 DO not let me difturb you, but pray continue 
 your difcourfe. Tne fubjetl you are upon 
 has been the general one through Paris thefe four 
 days; and never was any thing more diverting 
 than the different judgments that are paffed upon 
 it. For the very things which I have heard it e- 
 fteemed for by fome, have been condemned by o- 
 thers. 
 
 Urania. Here is the marquis fpesks very ill 
 of it. 
 
 The Marquis. It is true. I think it deteftable, 
 i'g.id-, deteftable to the laft degree of deteftable; 
 what one may call deteftable. 
 L 2
 
 244 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED, 
 
 Dorantes. And I, my dear marquis, think the 
 cpinion deteflable. 
 
 "i he Marquis. How, knight, do you pretend to 
 vindicate the piece. 
 
 Dorantes. Yes, I do pretend to vindicate it. 
 
 The Marquis. I'gad, I warrant it detcflable. 
 
 Dorantes. That warrant is not city-fecurity. 
 But, marquis, pray, what makes this play deleft- 
 able? 
 
 The Marquis. What makes it deteflable? 
 
 Dorantes. Yes. 
 
 The Marquis. It is deteflable, becaufe it is fo. 
 
 Dorantes. There is not a wcrd to fay after this ; 
 the caufe is ended. But yet inform us, and tell us 
 what faults it Las. 
 
 The Marquis. What do I know ? I did not fo 
 much as give myfelf the trouble to hear it. But in 
 fliort, I know 1 never beheld any thing fo villain- 
 ous; and Dorillas, who fat oppoiite to me, wr.s of 
 my opinion. 
 
 Doiantes. The authority is gcod, thou art ex- 
 cellently fr.pported. 
 
 The Marquis. One needs onlyobftrve the conti- 
 nual lend kughs fct up in the pit: nothing more 
 is neceiTary to prove it is g;:od for nothing. 
 
 .Dorantes. Then, marquis, you are one of thofe 
 fine gentlemen who reckon the pit even dcilitute 
 of common fenfe, and would be grieved to laugh 
 along with that, though it were at the befl thing 
 n the world ; I law the other dayore of our friends 
 upon the flnge, who made himfelf ridiculous by this. 
 He heard the whole piece with themofl fcllen gra- 
 vity imaginable; and every thing that made ethers 
 merry made him frown. He fhrugged up his fhoul- 
 derSj when other people laughed, and looked with
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 345 
 
 pity upon the pit; ami ibnic -times again looking 
 down wiih vexation, he cried out aloud, laugh 
 then, pit, laugh. It was really a fecond comedy 
 to fee our friend fo vexed; he (hewed away like 
 a generous fellow to the whole ?.flembly, and eve- 
 ry body allowed no man could play his part better 
 than he did 1 . Learn, marquis, you ^and others 
 with you, that good fen-fe has no determined place 
 at a play; that the difference betwixt half a guinea 
 snd half a crown makes nothing at all to a good 
 tafte; and whether (landing or fitting one may pafs 
 a bad judgment ; and that, in fhort, to take it iu 
 general, I mould depend a goad deal upon the ap- 
 p:obation of the pit, becaufe amongft thofe wh'> 
 compofe it, there are many who are capable of judg- 
 ing of a piece according to rules, and becaufe o- 
 thers judge by a proper method of. judging, which 
 is to be guided by things, and not to have any 
 bJin-d prejudice or affected complaifance, nor fool- 
 iih delicacy. 
 
 The Marquis. So thou art a defender of the pit, 
 knight? I'gad, lam glad of it, and I {hall not fail' 
 to acquaint it thou art one of its friends. Ha, ha, 
 ha, ha, he! 
 
 Dorantes. Laugh as much as you pleafe, I am 
 for good fenfe, and hate fuch foolifli people as thou 
 art. It vexes me to fee people make fools of them- 
 felves notwithstanding their quality; your folks 
 who are always decifive, and fpeak boldly of eve- 
 ry thing without knowing a word of the matter; 
 who frnil clap ye all the bad parts of a play, and 
 not fo much as ftir at thofe that are good; who 
 upon viewing a picture, or hearing a concert of 
 mufic, both blame and praife every thing by rule 
 of contraries; who pick up terms of art wherever 
 L 3
 
 246 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES- CRITICISE n. 
 
 they can, -which they get by heart, and never fail 
 to disjoint them, and difplace them. 'Sdeath, gen- 
 tlemen, be filent. Since heaven has not blefled 
 you with the knowledge of one fublunary. thing, 
 do not make yourfelves a laughing-ftock to thofe 
 who hear you; and confider that by being filent, 
 you may perhaps be thought clever fellows. 
 
 The Marquis. 1'gad, knight, thou carried ibis 
 matter 
 
 Dorantes. Why, marquis, I do not fpeak to 
 you ; it is to a dozen of thofe gentry who difgrace 
 the courtiers by their extravagant manners, and 
 make the people believe we are all alike. For my 
 part, I will do all I can to juftify myfelf from it, 
 and I will fo rally them wherever I meet them, 
 that at laft they mail grow wife. 
 
 The Marquis. Has Lyfander any wit, think 
 you? 
 
 Dorantes. Yes, doubtlefs, and a good deal too. 
 
 Urania. That is what no body can deny him. 
 
 The Marquis. Alk him. what he thinks of The 
 School for Wives; you will fee he will tell you it 
 is not to his tafte. 
 
 Dcrantes. Alas ! numbers of people are fpoiled 
 by too much wit, who fee things imperfectly by 
 ftrength of light, and who would even be forry to 
 be of ether folks opinion, that they may have the 
 honour of deciding. 
 
 Urania. Why really this friend of ours is of that 
 fort: he muft be the firft of his opinion, and have 
 others wait through refpeft to his judgment: eve- 
 ly one's approbation that gets the ftart of his is an 
 infult upon his underftanding, which he highly re- 
 venges by taking the oppofite party : he would have 
 folks confult him in every witty affair; and I am,
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 247 
 
 certain hail the author (hewn him his play before 
 he reprefented it, he would have thought it the bed 
 piece that poffioly could be written. 
 
 The Marquis. And what fay you of the marchi- 
 oncfs Animin'.a, who publifiies it about town for a 
 dreadful one, and fays (he could never endure the 
 ordure it is full of? 
 
 Dorantes. I {hall fay fhe deferves the character 
 ihe has aUumed, and that there are perfous who 
 make themfelves ridiculous for affecting too much- 
 honour. Though ihe is witty, (he has followed 
 the ill example of thofe, who, growing old, want 
 to make amends for what they fee they have loft, 
 and imagine the grimace of a fcrupulous prudery 
 will fupply the defect of youth and beauty. This 
 .fame lady carries the affrir further than any body, 
 the ingenioufnefs of her fcruples difcovers obfceni 
 fry where it is impomble for any body elfe to fee it. 
 They tell ye that thefe fcruples proceed fo far as 
 even to disfigure our language, and that there are 
 very few words in it which the feverity of this lady 
 will not retrench either the head or the tail, on ac- 
 count of the immodefl fyllables fhe finds in them. 
 
 Urania^ You are a perfect wag, knight. 
 
 The Marquis. In fhort, knight, you think to 
 defend your play by fatirizing thofe who condemn 
 it. 
 
 Dorantes. Not at all; but this lady, in my o- 
 pinion is unjuftly fcan 
 
 Eliza. Softly, Sir knight j there may be other 
 ladies befules her who may be of the fame fenti- 
 ments. 
 
 Dorantes. I very well know that you are not 
 fo, and that when you faw this performance 
 
 Eliza. It is true, but I am now quite of a dif- 
 L 4
 
 248 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 
 
 ferent way of thinking, and this lady [pointing 
 to Climene.] fupports her opinion by fuch con- 
 vincing reafons, that fhe carried me quite on her 
 fide. 
 
 Dorantes to Climene.] Oh ! madam, I ait par- 
 don: and, if you pleafe, 1 will unfay, for love of 
 you, all that 1 have faid. 
 
 Climene. I will not have it to be for love of 
 me, but for the love of reafon ; for in a word, that 
 piece, to take it right, is abfolutely indefenfible ;. 
 and I do not conceive 
 
 Urania. Hob! here is the author, Mr. Lyfidas; 
 .lie comes a propos, for this affair. Take your chair,, 
 Mr. Lyfidas, and fit down there. 
 
 SCENE VII. 
 
 LYSIDAS, CLIMENE, URANIA, ELIZA, DO- 
 RAMTES, THE MAROJJLS. 
 
 L Y SI D A S. 
 
 AM rather late in coming to you, madam; but 
 the lady marchionefs I was fpeaking to you a- 
 bcut made me read my piece to her, and the praif- 
 es given it have detained me longer than I thought 
 of. 
 
 Eliza. Praife is a wonderful charm to -ietajn an 
 author. 
 
 Urania. Sit down then, Mr. Lyfidas, we fhall 
 read your piece after fupper. 
 
 Lyfidas. All they who were there are to come 
 the firft night, and have promifcd me to do their 
 duty as they mould do. 
 
 Urania. I believe it; but pray once more pl'cafc
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 249 
 
 to- fit down. We are upon an affair here which I 
 fhould be very glad to go on with. 
 
 Lyfidas. You will take a box, I hope, madam, 
 for that night.. 
 
 Urania. We fhall fee. Pray let us continue 
 our difcourfe. 
 
 Lyfidas. Mo ft part cf them are already taken. 
 
 Urania. It is mighty well. In fhort, I wanted 
 you when you came, for every body is againft me 
 here. 
 
 Eliza to Urania, and pointing to Dorantes. 3 He 
 was on your fide at firil; but now he knows the 
 lady is at the head of the oppofite party, I fuppofe 
 you have nothing to do but feek out for other af- 
 Iftancc. 
 
 Climene. No, no. I would not have him ne- 
 glect his court to mifs your coufin, 1 allow his wit 
 te be on the fi.de of his heart. 
 
 Dorantes. With this penr.ifiion, madam, I fhall: 
 prt-fume to defend myfelf. 
 
 Urania. But firit, pray let us know the fentU 
 ments of Mr. Lyfidas. 
 
 Lyfidas. Upon what, madam ? 
 
 Urania-. Upon tlic fubjeCt of The School for 
 Wives. 
 
 Lyfidas. Ha, ha! 
 
 Dorantes. What is your opinion of it? 
 
 Lyfidas. I have nothing to fay upon that head;, 
 and you know tha't amongft us authors we ought 
 to be vaflly careful how we fpeak of each others 
 performances. 
 
 Dorantes. But pray, between us, what do you. 
 think of this Comedy? 
 
 Lyfidas. I, Sir? 
 
 Urania. Tell us your opinion honcfil'--
 
 250 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED-, 
 
 Lyfidas. I think it an excellent performance. 
 
 Dorantes. Really? 
 
 Lyfidas. Really; why not? Is it not indeed a 
 very fine one ? 
 
 Dorantes. Um, urn, you are a cruel youth, Mr. 
 Lyfidas ; you do not fpeak as you think. 
 
 Lyfidas. Pardon me. 
 
 Dorantes. Lack-a day, I know you; do not dif- 
 femble. 
 
 Lyfidas. I, Sir? 
 
 Dorantes. I fee plainly that you fpeak well of 
 this piece only out of modefty; and that at the- 
 bottom of your heart you are of the opinion of a 
 great many people, who think it bad. 
 
 Lyfidas. Ha, ha, ha! 
 
 Dorantes. Nay, confefs that this comedy is a 
 foclifh piece. 
 
 ~ Lyfidas. Your connoifleurs do not approve of 
 it. 
 
 The Marquis. Faith, knight, thou haft it, thou 
 art paid for thy raillery. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha! 
 
 Dorantes. Laugh on, my dear marquis, laugh 
 on. 
 
 The Marquis. You fee we have the learned on 
 our fide. 
 
 Dorantes. It is true, Mr. Lyfidas's judgment i s 
 fomething confiderable, but he will excufe me if I 
 tlo not yield for all this; and fince I have prefum- 
 ed to defend myfelf againft the lady's fentiments, 
 he will not take it amifs if I oppofe his. 
 
 Eliza. What, when you fee the lady, my lord 
 marquis, and Mr. Lyfidas againfl you, dare you re- 
 iift ftill ? Fie, that's acting with a bad grace. 
 
 Climene. For my part, what confounds me is,
 
 E SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 251 
 that fenfible people , can take it in their heads to 
 protect the ftnpidity of this piece. 
 
 The Marquis. Demme, madam, it is a wretch- 
 ed performance. 
 
 Dorantes. That is foon faid, marquis, there is 
 nothing more eafy than to -.cut the matter fhort 
 thus, and I do not fee any thing can with (land thy 
 powerful decifions. 
 
 The Marquis. 'Slife, all the other comedians 
 who have feen it fpeak ill of it. 
 
 Dorantes. Oh! I fay not a word more, you arc 
 very right, marquis, fince all the other comedians 
 fpeak ill of it, we mull certainly believe them. They 
 are all difcerning people, and fpeak without inte- 
 refl; there is no more to be faid, I yield. 
 
 Climene. Yield, or not yield, I know very well 
 you fhali never perfuade me to endure the immo- 
 defty of this piece; no more than you (hall the dif- 
 obliging fatire in it ag3inft the ladies. 
 
 Urania. For my part, I fhail take care not to be 
 offended at it, and to take nothing to my own ac- 
 count that is faid in it. This fort of fatire falls. 
 dirc&Iy upon the manners, and hits the perfons 
 only by rebound. Let us not apply to ourfelvcs 
 the ftrokes of a general cenfure; let us profit by 
 the lefTon, if we can, without making as if they 
 fpoke to us. We fhould view all the ridiculous 
 paintings that are drawn upon the ftagc, without 
 being uneafyatthem. They are public mirrors, where 
 we arc never to declare that we behold ourfelves -, 
 and it is downright to tax ourfelves with a crime, 
 to be fcandalized at the reproof. 
 
 Giimene. As to rnyfelf, I do not fpeak of thefe ( 
 tilings in regard to any part I can have in them j 
 and I think I behave myfelf in fuch a irauner 33 
 L 6
 
 252 THE SCHOOL FOR V.'IVES CRITICISED. 
 
 not to fear being looked for among the paintings 
 drawn for diforderly women. 
 
 Eliza. You, madam, will never be looked for 
 there; your condul is fufficiently known by eve- 
 ry body. 
 
 Urania to Ciimene.] Therefore, madam, I faid 
 nothing that can reach you; and my words, like 
 the fatire in comedy, reft in general portions. 
 
 Climene. I do not doubt it, madam. But how- 
 ever let us pafs this point over. I do not know 
 what reception- you will give the reflections thrown 
 on our fex in a certain part of the piece; I con- 
 fefs it vexes me to fee this impudent author hav-2 
 the afuirance to call us animals. 
 
 Urania. Do not you obfetve it is a ridiculous 
 character he makes fpealc it? 
 
 Dorantes. And then, madam, do not you know 
 that the reproaches of lovers never give fcanda! ? 
 that it is much the fame with furious as with fon- 
 dling lovers, and that on fuch occafions the ftrang- 
 eft words, and even fomething frill worfe, are taken 
 very often as marks of kindnefs by the very per- 
 fons who receive them. 
 
 Eliza. Say what you will I can cligeft this 
 no more than the porridge and cream-tart the lady 
 juftnowfpoke of. 
 
 The Marquis. O! yes, faith, cream-tart; that 
 is what I was obferving a while ago; cream-tart! 
 How am I obliged to you, madam, for having re- 
 minded me of cream-tart! Are there apples e- 
 rough in Normandy for cream-tart? Cream-tart, 
 i'gad, cream-tart! 
 
 JDorantcs. Well, what mean you with your cream- 
 tart ? 
 
 The Marquis. 'Slife, cream tart, knight !
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISE!}. 253 
 
 Dorantes. But what ? 
 
 The Marquis. Cream tart! 
 
 Dorantes. Pray let me know your reafons. 
 
 The'Marquis. Cream-tart! 
 
 Urania. But you mould explain your meaning,, 
 mi-thinks. 
 
 The Marquis. Cream-tart, madam! 
 
 Urania. What objection can you make to it? 
 
 The Marquis. I? Nothing: cream-tart! 
 
 Urania. Oh! I give it up. 
 
 Eli?.a. My lord marquis goes the right way to- 
 woik, and plays ye off .finely. But I wifh Mr. 
 Lyfidas would finish, aud give them a little touch 
 or two in his manner. 
 
 Lyfidru. I am very favourable to other people's 
 performances, and do not chufe to find fault with 
 them. But in fhort, no offence to the friend {hip 
 the knight declares for the author, ycu muft own 
 to me thefe fort of plays are not properly plays, 
 and that there is a great deal of difference between 
 all thefe trifles, compared with the bea-uty of feri- 
 ous pieces. Yet all the world gives into it now- 
 a-days; there's no thronging after any thing but 
 this; and you fee nothing but a frightful folitude 
 at the grand works, when thefe filly things {hall 
 have all Paris flocking to fee them. I own to you 
 my heart fometimes bleeds at it, and it is a fcanclal 
 to all Fraijce. 
 
 Climene. It is true, people's tafte is ftrangely 
 corrupted in this point, and the age vulgarizes fu- 
 rioufly. 
 
 Eliza. That vulgarizes is very pretty; pray did 
 you invent it, madam ? 
 
 Climene. AM 
 
 Eiiza. I am much in doubt about it.
 
 254 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 
 
 Dorantes. You think then, Mr. Lyfidas, that all 
 the wit and all the beauty lie in ferious poems? 
 and that comic pieces are trifles which cleferve not 
 to be praifed ? 
 
 Urania. For my part, that is not my fentiment. 
 Tragedy is undoubtedly very fine when it is well, 
 touched; but comedy has its charms, and I think, 
 one is as difficult as the other- 
 
 Dorantes. Certainly, madam; and for the diffi- 
 culty, mould you place it more on the fide of co- 
 medy, perhaps you would not be in the wrong: 
 for I really think it much eafier to foar upon grand 
 fentiments, to defy fortune in verfe, to accufe the 
 deftinies, and reproach the gods, than to enter 
 properly into the ridicule of men, and to make 
 their faults appear agreeable on the ftage. "When- 
 you paint heroes, you do what you have amind, 
 thefe are portraits drawn at pleafure, where we 
 feek not for refemblance; you have only to follow 
 the traces of an exalted imagination, which fre- 
 quently forfakes the true to hit the marvellous. 
 But when you paint men, nature muft be your 
 guide. People expet refemblance in thefe por- 
 traits; you have done nothing if you do not difplay 
 the people of the age fb as to make them known. 
 In a wcwrd, in ferious pieces it is fufficient to efcape 
 cenfure to fay things that are well written and good 
 fenfe. But this is not fufficient in the others; 
 you muft be merry, and it is a ftrange enterprize 
 to make your better fort of people laugh. 
 
 Climene. I reckon myfclf among the better fort 
 of people, and yet I found not a fingle word in. 
 it to make any body laugh. 
 
 The Marquis. Faith, nor I neither. 
 
 Dorantes. As for you, marquis, I am not fur-
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 255:. 
 
 prized at it, it is becaufe you found no puns in it. 
 Lyfidas. Faith, Sir, what we meet with there ir, 
 not much better, and in my opinion all the rail- 
 lery that is in it is very infipid. 
 
 Dorantes. The court thought not fo 
 
 Lyfulas. Oh! the court, Sir? 
 Dorantes. Speak out, Mr. Lyfidas. I fee plainly 
 you mean that the court knows very little about 
 thefe matters; and this is the ufual refuge of you 
 gentlemen authors, in the bad fuccefs of your 
 works, to accufe only the injuflice of the age, and 
 the want of difcernment in courtiers. Pleafe to 
 know, Mr. Lyfidas, that courtiers can fee and hear 
 as well as other people; that folks may be inge- 
 nious with a- Venice point and a feather, as well as 
 with a bob-peruke; that the grand teft of all your 
 play is the court; that you muft ftudy its tafte to 
 find the art of fucceeding; there is no place where 
 the decifions are fo juft; and without bringing in- 
 to the account all the men of learning there, one 
 forms a manner of genius there only by plain na- 
 tural good fenfe, and converfation with people of 
 famion, who, without comparifon, judge more de- 
 licately of things, than all the common-place learn- 
 ing of pedants. 
 
 Urania. It is true that if you flay but ever fo 
 fhort a while there, things enough pafs daily be- 
 fore your eyes to acquire a habit of knowing them; 
 and above all whatever belongs to good or bad 
 raillery. 
 
 Dorantes. I own, the court has fome ridiculous 
 people about it, and I am the firft, as you may fee, 
 to banter them. But, faith, there are a great num-' 
 ber too amongftthe w'ts by profeffion; and if we 
 ridicule fjme marquifles, I think there are a good
 
 2$6 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 
 
 many more authors to ridicule; and what a drcM 
 thing it would be to bring them upon the ftage, 
 with their learned grimaces, and their fantaftical 
 refinements ; their vicious cuftom of allaflinating 
 people in their works; their greedinefs of praife ; 
 their fparingnefs of thought; their traffic of repu- 
 tation; zn cl their lines offenfive and defenfive ! as 
 alfo their learned wars and combats in profe and 
 veife. 
 
 LyuYias. Moliere, Sir, is very happy in having 
 fo warm a patron as you are. But however, te 
 come to the point, the queftion in debate is, whe- 
 ther his piece be good; and here I engage myfelf 
 to mew there are iu the whole upwards of a hun,- 
 dred vifible faults. 
 
 Urania. It is an odd thing that you authors 
 fhould always condemn the pif ces which every one 
 runs after, and praife thofe which no body go to. 
 
 Dorantes. That is becanfe it is generous to be 
 on the fide of the afflic'ted.. 
 
 Urania. But pray, Mr. Lyfulas, let us fee fome 
 cf thefe faults that I percei.ved nothing of. 
 
 Lyfidas. They who are matters of Ariflotle and 
 Horace fee immediately, madam, that this comedy 
 oilends againft all the rules of art. 
 
 Urania. I confefs I have no intimacy with thefe 
 gentlemen, and that I am ignorant of the rules of 
 art. 
 
 Dorantes. One would think, to hear you talk,, 
 that thefe rules of art were the greateft myfteries 
 in the world ; and yet they are nothing but fome 
 eafy obfervations, which good fenfe has made up- 
 on what may take away the pleafure one finds in 
 thefe fort of poems; and the fame good fenfe which 
 made thefe obfervations formerly, eafily makes
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 257 
 
 them at all times, without the afliftance of Horace 
 and Ariflotlo. I would be glad to know whether 
 the univerfal rule is not topleafe; and whether a 
 piece upon the ftage that has gained its end, did 
 not take a right way ? Would you have it, that the 
 whole public is miftaken in thefe matters, and that 
 every one (liould not be a j-udge of the pleafure he 
 takes in them ? 
 
 Urania. I have obferved one thing in thefe gen- 
 tlemen ; it is that thofe who talk meft of rules, and 
 know them better th;:n others, make plays which 
 no body thinks good. 
 
 Dorantes. And this, madam, is what fhewswhat 
 little regard ought to be had to their puzzling rules r 
 for in fhort, if pieces which are according to rule 
 do not pleaie, and thofe that pleafe are not accord- 
 ing to rule, the rules mull confequemly have been- 
 madewrong. Let us therefore defpifethis chicanery 
 to which they would fubjet the public tafte, and 
 never confult any thing in a play but the effeft it 
 has on us. Let us heartily follow the things that 
 take our fancy, and never hunt for reafonsto pre- 
 vent our having pleafure. 
 
 Urania. For my part, when I fee a play, I only 
 mind whether things touch me; and when I am 
 veil diverted by it, I do not enquire whether I was 
 in the wrong, and whether the rules of Ariftotle 
 forbad me to laugh. 
 
 Dorantes. It is direHy like a man who flioultt 
 have found tin excellent fauce, and mould enquire 
 whether it were made by the rules of a French 
 cook. 
 
 IJKuiiu. Very true; and I admire at the refine- 
 ments of certain people in matters wherein we 
 ought to follow our own fenfe.
 
 258 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 
 
 Dorantes. You are right, madam, to think alt 
 thefe myfterious refinements impertinent. For,, 
 in fhort, if they take place, we muft ever after clif- 
 believe ourfclvcs; our own fenfcs mud be fiaves in 
 every thing; and even in eating and drinking we 
 muft not prefume any longer to think any thing 
 good, without leave from thefe gentlemen adepts. 
 
 Lycidas. In fhort, Sir, your whole reafon is, 
 that The School for Wives lias pleafed; and you> 
 fliould not at all care whether it were done by the 
 
 rule, provided 
 
 Dorantes. Not fo faft, Mr. Lyfidas,Ido not grant 
 you that. I fay plainly the great art is to pleafe, 
 and that this comedy having pleafed thofe it was 
 made for, I think it fufficient for it, and that there 
 is no reafon to mind the reft. But withal, I main- 
 tain it does not offend againft any of the rules you 
 fpeak of. I have read them, thank heaven, as well- 
 as other people, andlcould eafilymake it appear that. 
 we have not, perhaps, a more regular piece extant. 
 Eliza. Courage, Mr. Lyiidas, we are undone, if 
 you give way. 
 
 Lyfidas. How, Sir, the prcta/is, the epitafis, and 
 
 the peripetie 
 
 Dorantes. Nay, Mr. Lyfidas, you knock us 
 down with your hard words; pray do not fee m fo 
 learned. Civilize your difcourfe a little, and fpeak 
 fo that people may underftand you. Do you think 
 that a Greek name gives greater force to your rea- 
 fons ? Is it not as pretty to fay the expofition of 
 the fubjeft, as the protafis; the plot, as the epi- 
 tafis, and the unravelling as the peripetie? 
 
 Lyfidas. Thefe are terms of art, that we are al- 
 lowed to make ufe of: but fince thefe words offend 
 your ears, I fhall explain myfelf in another mar*-
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 25^ 
 
 ner; and I defire you would anfvver me pofitivcly 
 to three or four things I am going to fay: Can one 
 endure a piece which offends again ft the proper 
 name of theatrical pieces ? For after all, the name 
 of dramatic poem is derived from a Greek word, 
 which Cgnifies to act, to fliew that the nature of 
 the poem confifts in action; and in this comedy 
 there is no action, but all confifts in recitals made 
 by Agnes or by Horace. 
 
 The Marquis. Hah! hah! Knight! 
 
 Climene. Ingenioufly remarked! this is coming 
 to the niceft point of things. 
 
 Lyfidas. Can any thing be more filly or low, 
 than fome words in it, which made every body 
 laugh, and efpecially that of children by the ear? 
 
 'Climene. Very well. 
 
 Eliza. Oh! 
 
 Lyfidas. Is not the fcene of the footman and the 
 maid within doors very impertinent and tedious ? 
 
 The Marquis. Indeed it is. 
 
 Climene. Certainly. 
 
 Eliza. He is in the right. 
 
 Lyfidas. Does net Arnolph give Horace his mo- 
 ney too freely? And fince it is the ridiculous charac- 
 ter of the piece, mould he have made him do the 
 action of a worthy man ? 
 
 The Marquis. Good. The remark is very juft, 
 
 Climene. Admirable! 
 
 Eliza. Surprizing. 
 
 Lyfidas. Are not the fermon and the maxims ve- 
 ry foolifli, and what ftrike at the refpect due to our 
 religion ? 
 
 The Marquis. Indeed they are. 
 
 Climene. Spoke as it ought be.
 
 26o THE SCHOOL FOR W I VES CRITICISE I). 
 
 Eliza. Nothing can be better. 
 
 Lyfidas.And that in fhort, Mr. La Souche,who 
 is made a mail of wit, and who appears fo ferious 
 in feveral paflages, does he notdefcendtofomething 
 too comical, and too extravagant in the fifth act, 
 when he tells Agnes the violence of his love,with 
 that wild rolling of his eyes, with thofe ridiculous 
 fighs, nnd thofe foollfh tear&, which fct every one 
 :i huighing? 
 
 The Marquis. Surprizing, faith! 
 
 CHmene. Marvellous! 
 
 Eliza. "Well done, Mr. Lyildas. 
 
 Lyfidas. I pafs over numberlefs other things, for 
 fear of being tedious. 
 
 The Marquis. Faith, knight, thou art welpa id 
 up now. 
 
 Dorantes. Stay a little. 
 
 The Marquis. Thou hail met with thy man. 
 
 Dorantes. Perhaps fo. 
 
 The Marquis. Anfwer, anfwer, juifwefi an- 
 Aver. 
 
 Dorantes. Very willingly. It is - 
 
 The Marqufs. Anfwer then, prithee. 
 
 Dorantes. Permit me then. If 
 
 The Marquis. Egad, I defy thee to anfwer. 
 
 Dorantes. Yss, if you talk for ever. 
 
 Climene. Pray let us hear what he has to fay. 
 
 Dorantes. Firil of all, it is not true, to fay that 
 the whole piece ccnfifts only of narration : oue fees 
 abundance of action in it, which pr.ffes upon the 
 ftage; and the narrations thcrnielves are of aHons- 
 according to the conftitution of the fubjeft; inaf- 
 much as thefe narrations are alt innocently related 
 to an interefted pertbn, who by this means is at e- 
 very turn thrown into a confufion, which diverta
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 261 
 
 the fpettators, and takes all themeafures he can up- 
 on each information, to ward off the mifchief he 
 dreads. 
 
 Urania. For my part, I think the beauty of the 
 fubjeft of The School for Wives confifts in this 
 continued confidence; and what appears diverting 
 enough to me, is, that a man who has fenfe, and 
 who is warned of every thing by an innocent crea- 
 ture who is his miftrefs, and a mar-plot who is his 
 rival, cannot with all this efcape what happens to 
 him. 
 
 The Marquis. Trifles, trifles. 
 Climene. A mighty anfwer, indeed! 
 Eliza. Weak reafons. 
 
 Dorantes. As to what regards the children by 
 the ear, it has no jeft in it but in regard to Ar- 
 nolph; and the author did not infcrt it as a jeft of 
 itfelf, but only for a thing which characterizes the 
 man, and paints the extravagance ib much the 
 better, fince he repeats a trivial, filly thing that 
 Agnes had faid, as the fineft .thing in the world, 
 and what gives him an inexpreflible delight. 
 The Marquis. Wretchedly anfwered. 
 Climene. It is not fatisfaclory. 
 Eliza. It is faying nothing. 
 Dorantes. As to his freedom in giving the mo- 
 ney, befides that the letter of his very good friend 
 is a fufFicient fecurity to him, it is not inconGftcnt 
 that a worthy man may be ridiculous in fome 
 things. And the fcene of Allen ;\nd Georgetta 
 within doors, which has been thought fo infipid 
 by fome people, is not without proper reafons; and 
 in the fame manner that Arnoiph, by the inno- 
 cence of his miilrefs, is caught, during hisjourney> 
 upon his return he (lands a Icng time at the doer,
 
 262 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVE* CRITICISED. 
 
 by the innocence of his fcrvants, that he might be 
 thoroughly punimed by the very things that he 
 expected would make his precautions fure. 
 
 The Marquis. Thefe reafons are trifling. 
 
 Climene. This is all to no purpofe. 
 
 Eliza. It is mean. 
 
 Dorantes. The very religious people who heard 
 the moral difcourfe, which you call a fermon, faw 
 nothing that (truck at what you were fpeaking of; 
 and certainly the extravagance of Arnolph, and the 
 innocence of her he fpeaks to, juftifies thefe words 
 of hell and boiling cauldrons. And in the fifth 
 .aV., the amorous tranfports, which you think a 
 burlefque, and extravagant, is certainly a fatire up- 
 on lovers, and I dare fay the mod fericus people, 
 upon the like cccafions, will fay and do things 
 
 The Marquis. Indeed, knight, you had better 
 be filent. 
 
 Dorantes. True; but really if we were to be 
 attentive to ourfelves in our amorous moments 
 
 The Marquis. I will not hear you. 
 
 Dorantes. Do hear me. Are not we in the vi- 
 olence of the paflion 
 
 The Marquis. Tol, lol, dero!. [Sings. 
 
 Dorontes. How 
 
 The Marquis. Fa, lol, fa, lol, fa, lol, derpl. 
 
 Dorantes. I do not know whether 
 
 The Marquis. Tal, lal, tal, lal, deral. 
 
 Urania. I arn of opinion 
 
 The Marquis. Fa, lol, fa lol, fa, lol, clcrol. 
 
 Urania. To amend our School for Wives, I 
 think one might make a little comedy out of the 
 merry things that have pafled in our difputes. 
 - Dorantes. Very true. 
 
 The Marquis. I think the part ycH*, would p'ay, 
 knight, would net be to your advantage at all.
 
 THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES CRITICISED. 2<>3 
 
 Dorantes. That is true, marquis. 
 
 Climene. If they would treat the atTairjuft in 
 the manner that it has patted, I for my part would 
 wifh it were done. 
 
 Eliza. I would freely give them my character. 
 
 Lyfidas. And I mine. 
 
 Urania. As every body would be pleafed, do 
 you, knight, take notes of it, and give it to Mo- 
 liere, to make it up into a play, as you know he 
 can do it eafily . 
 
 Climene. It would not be any thing in his praife, 
 fo he would fet no value upon it. 
 
 Urania. No, no, I know him very well; if peo- 
 ple crowd to his pieces, he does not value who 
 laughs at them. 
 
 Dorantes. But I do not fee how we can end 
 this difpute; as there is neither difcovcry nor mar- 
 riage, we cannot find an unravelling of the plot. 
 
 Urania. We muft contrive fomething for that. 
 
 SCENE THE LAST. 
 
 CLIMENE, URANIA, ELIZA, DORANTES, THE 
 MAROJJIS, LYSIDAS, GALOP1N. 
 
 G A L O P IN. 
 
 MADAM, fupper is ready. 
 Dorantes. This is the very thing we want- 
 ed to clear up our plot; we could think of nothing 
 more natural. There fliall be a ftrong difpute on 
 both fides, no body (hall yield; a fervant (hall ac- 
 quaint them th.it fupper is upon the table, and they 
 lhall all go to it. 
 
 Urania. We fhall finifli here, and the play can- 
 not end better. 
 
 THE END.
 
 THE 
 
 IMPROMPTU 
 
 O F 
 
 VERSAILLES, 
 
 COMEDY. 
 
 VOL. II. M
 
 C 267 
 
 7/tf IMPROMPTU o/" VERSAILLES, a Comedy of 
 One Acly nfledat V erf allies iqthofOttobcr 1663, 
 and at Paris > at the Theatre- Roy al> the qth of 
 November the fame Year. 
 
 MO LI ERE, being greatly favoured by the 
 king, and having juft received feme freflt 
 marks of his kindnefs, thought that he ought in his 
 prefence, and before the whcle court, to deftroy 
 the fufpicion of his having drawn the characters of 
 particular perfons in the SCHOOL for WIVES, 
 which might have proved difadvantageous to him; 
 and for this purpofe brought on the IMPROMPTU 
 of VERSAILLES. He dots not fpare Bourfalt in 
 this piece, and always mentions him with the ut- 
 moft contempt: but his talents and genius were on- 
 ly affected by this contempt ; he had attacked Mo- 
 liere in a more fenfible part. "We mould have 
 thought it a curiofity, had the author's works been 
 very ancient, to find in this comedy the time of his 
 w. an iage \viih Bejart the comedian's daughter. (See 
 the IMPROMPTU of VERSAILLES, fcene ift. 
 page 272.) 
 
 
 M 2
 
 A C T O R S. 
 
 MoLlERE, a ridiculous marquis. 
 
 BRECOURT, a man of quality. 
 
 L.A GRANGE, a ridiculous marquis. 
 
 Du CROJSY, a poet. 
 
 Mrs. Du PARC, a ceremonious marchioncfs, 
 
 Mrs. BEJART, a prude. 
 
 Mrs. DE BRIE, a fage coquette. 
 
 Mrs. Mo HE RE, a fatirical wit. 
 
 Mrs. Du CROISY, a whining gypfey. 
 
 Mrs. HERVEY, a conceited cTiamber-maid. 
 
 TORRILLIERE, an impertinent marquis. 
 
 BEJART, abufy-body. 
 
 POUR ATTENDANTS. 
 
 .SCENE Vcrfailles, in the king's anti-chamber.
 
 : 
 
 
 
 
 T 
 
 H 
 
 E 
 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 M 
 
 P 
 
 R 
 
 O 
 
 M 
 
 P 
 
 T 
 
 U 
 
 
 
 
 
 O 
 
 F 
 
 
 
 
 
 V E R S 
 
 A 
 
 I 
 
 L 
 
 L 
 
 E 
 
 S. 
 
 SCENE I. 
 
 MOLIERE, B R E C U R T, L A GRANGE,, 
 D U C R O I S Y, M R S. D U PARC, MRS. 
 BEJA-RT, MRS. DE BRIE, MRS. MO- 
 LIERE, MRS. DU CROISY, MRS* 
 M E R V E Y. 
 
 MOLIERE alone,, talking to the players, who are 
 
 behind the fcenes. 
 
 OU are not in earned fure, gentle- 
 men and ladies, will you not come 
 - hither? Devil take the people! Mr. 
 Brecourt. 
 
 Brecourt behind the fcenes. ] What 
 do you want? 
 
 M
 
 2 7 3 THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 MoKere. Mr. La Grange. 
 
 La Grange. What is the matter? 
 
 Moliere. Mr. Du Croify. 
 
 Du Croify. What want you? 
 
 Moliere. Mrs. Du Pare ? 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. Well ? 
 
 Moliere. Mrs. Bejart. 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. Who is there? 
 
 Moliere. Mrs. De Brie. 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. What now? 
 
 Moliere. Mrs. Du Croify. 
 
 Mrs. Du Croify. What is the matter? 
 
 Moliere. Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey. I am here. 
 
 Moliere. I believe thefe people will make me 
 mad! [Enter La Grange, Du Croify, Brecourt] 
 'Sdeath, gentlemen, I will go diflra&ed. 
 
 Brecourt. What can we do? You diftraft us to 
 oblige us to play in this manner, when we have not 
 cur parts. 
 
 Moliere. A&ors are fad animals to manage! 
 
 [Enter Mefdemoifelles Bejart, Du Pare, De Brie,. 
 
 Moliere, Du Croify, and Hervey.] 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. Well, what do you intend to do now 
 iv hen we are all here? 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. What do you mean? 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. What (hall we de? 
 
 Moliere. As the king is not come yet, nor will 
 thefe two hours, let us ilay here and rehearfe oar 
 P>ay, as we are all drefled, and we will fee how 
 we can play our parts. 
 
 La Grange. How can we play what we are'ig- 
 norant of? 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. lafiureyou, I have not orfe ward 
 of my part.
 
 O F V ' E R S A I L L E S. 27! 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. I am certain that Twill have oc- 
 cafion to be prom pted from beginning to end. 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. And I am ready to take the book 
 in my hand. 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. lam in the fame \ray. 
 
 Mrs. Hervey. My part is but trifling. 
 
 Mrs. Du Croify. Mine is but fmall too, and yet 
 k is very likely I will be out. 
 
 Du Croify. I would willingly give ten piftoles 
 to be quit of it. 
 
 Brecourt. And I would take twenty good ftrokos 
 of a cudgel. 
 
 Moliere. What would any of you do if you were 
 in my place, you are all fo diftrefied with having 
 a. diflkuit part to play? 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. As you wrote the piece, you can- 
 not be afraid of being out,' fo need not complain. 
 
 Moliere. Have not I reafon to fay, I would give 
 any thing in the world to have it over ? may not 
 I fear, my memory? but this is trifling; may net 
 an author tremble when a comic performance i3 
 expofed to fuch an audience as this ? to undertake 
 to divert people who ftrike us with rcfpccl, and on- 
 ly laugh when they pleafe? Youcannotthink the 
 anxioufnefc of fuccefs which effecls me alone, no- 
 thing. 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. Then you fhould not have under- 
 taken to do in a week what you are now afraid of, 
 you fhculd be more cautious. 
 
 Moliere. When the king commanded me, I was 
 obliged to do it. 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. You might have excufed yourftlf 
 
 rcfpectfully, by pleading the impoflibility of doing' 
 
 it in fo fhort a time : any body elfe would take 
 
 care not to expofe his reputation. What an act- 
 
 M 4
 
 2J2 THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 vantage will all your enemies make of it! and what 
 will become of you, if the thing do not fucceed ? 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. Really you fhould have defired 
 more time; you might have excufed yourfelf from 
 doing it in fo little a time. 
 
 Moliere. Madam, nothing is fo agreeable to kings 
 as a ready obedience; obftacles are very difagreea- 
 ble to them: things do not pleafe but jufl at the 
 time defired, and it takes away all the pleafure of 
 their diverfion if they mud wait for it, as chance 
 pleafures are the moft agreeable. We fhould ne- 
 ver confider ourfelves, when they defire any thing 
 of us, but ftudy to pleafe them ; and when they 
 defire us to do any thing, it is our part immedi- 
 ately to obey their defires. We had better perform 
 badly, than refufe to obey them quickly ; and if we 
 are not applauded for good performance, we have 
 the credit of being obedient : but let us begin our 
 rehearfal. 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. If we do not know our parts, what 
 wiH you do? 
 
 Moliere. Yes you fhall know them, and if you 
 fhould be a little imperfect, as it is profe, and you 
 are acquainted with the fubjecT:, you may fupply 
 any deficiency by your own wit. 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. I beg your pardon, but profe is more 
 difficult to fupply than verfe. 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. I think you fhould have compof- 
 ed a comedy which you could have played yourfelf, 
 uJthout any afilftance. 
 
 Moliere Hold your tongue, Avife, you are a fool. 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. I am obliged to you, good huf- 
 band. See what an alteration matrimony makes 
 in people ! a year and a half ago fuch words as thefe 
 would never have eome from your mouth.
 
 O F V E R S A I L" L I; S. 273 
 
 Moliere. Pray hold your peace. 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. It is very extraordinary that we 
 fhould be deprived of all our good qualities by a 
 littleceremony, and that the fame perfon fhould ap- 
 pear fo very different in the eyes of a hufband and. 
 a gallant. 
 
 Moliere.. What a prating is here! 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. Upon my word, were I to com- 
 pnfe a comedy, it would certainly be on that fubjecr.. 
 I would make the hufbands tremble for the dif- 
 ference there is between their rough manners and' 
 the complaifancc of a gallant; I would juftify the 
 women in feveral things they are accufed with. 
 
 Moliere. Well, b-: lilent at prefent, we have 
 fometbing elfe to ilo thau prattle now. 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. Why did you not make that co- 
 medy of comedians that you have fo long talked 
 of to us, as you were defired to work on the fub- 
 jetl of the criticifm that is made upon you? itwas 
 ready invented, and would have come very proper, 
 and fo miu % h the better, as having undertook to 
 paintyou, they opened away for you to do the fame, , 
 and it may with more propriety be called theirpic- 
 ture, than what they have done can be called yours; 
 to imitate a comedian in a comic part, is not def- 
 cribing him, but only defcribing the characters he 
 reprefents, and ufing the fame ftrokes au.d colours 
 which he is obliged to ufe in the feveral pictures 
 of the ridiculous characters, which he copies after 
 nature. But to imitatea comedian inferious parts, 
 is defcribing him by faults which are his o:vn, as 
 thofe characters will not bear the ridiculous tone 
 of voice, or the geftures by which hs is known a- 
 gain. 
 
 Moliere. What you fay is right, but I huvc rea-- 
 M 5
 
 1 7 4 THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 fens for not doing it: between us, I did not think 
 it worth the trouble, and the time it would take 
 to execute that idea. I have not been able to fee 
 them above three or four times firice we came to 
 Paris, as their days of playing arc the fame with 
 ours; I mould like to ftudy them, to make por- 
 traits in imitation of them; I got nothing of their 
 manner of adding but what was obvious to the eye. 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. From your defciipticn of them, 
 I have difcovered fome refemblances of them. 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. I never heard this fpoken of. 
 
 Mcliere. I once thought of it, but have given it 
 up, as an impertinent thing, anda trifie, that would 
 not divert people. 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. Tell me a little of it, as you have 
 told it to other people. 
 
 Mcliere. We have not time now. 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. Only in a few words-. 
 
 Moliere. I cnce thought of a comedy, in which 
 there mould be a poet, whom I would have repre- 
 fented myfelf, who fliculd come to offer a piece to- 
 a company of comedians juft come from the coun- 
 try: he mould have faid, have you -a&crs and ac- 
 trefles capable offetting offfuch a piece, foi it is an 
 extraordinary one? and the comedian fliould ha\e 
 anfwered, Ah ! Sir, we have men and women, who 
 have been looked upon as pretty good performeis 
 in all the places we have been in. .And who plays 
 the king among you ? There is one who fometimcs- 
 performs it. Is it that fine fhaped your.g rran? 
 You are certainly in banter! You fhould have 
 a man that is very fat, and four-fquare fora king. 
 'Sdeath a king that's fluffed y.s he mould be. A 
 king of a great f;ze,that can fill a throne genteelly. 
 A fine-fhaped king indeed ! This is pne grand fault
 
 OF VERSAILLES. 2J 
 
 already; but Jet me hear him repeat a do/:c-: v>\- 
 ies. Upon which the comedian fhould have ic- 
 peated, for example, fomc vtrrfos of the king or' 
 Nicomedia, 
 
 Snail I te'lthee, Arafpcs? He has been too faith- 
 ful to me; 
 
 My force encr'eafing 
 
 the moil naturally that he poflibly could. 
 the poet: What, do you call that repeating ? fure 
 you are not in carnefi; you fliould fpcak things 
 emphatically. Heaikcn to me. 
 
 [Imitating . Monfleury, a celebrated aftor of the 
 Hotel d<; liourgogne. 
 
 Shall I tell thee, &c - 
 
 Obferve wJi this poflure ; There, hy a flrefs as 
 you ought on the lait verfe; that is what gains ap- 
 probation, and raifes a clap. But, Sir, the come- 
 dian fhould have replied r Methinks a king who 
 is tlifcourfing \vith the captain of his guards, 
 fpeaks a little more humanely, and fcarce makes- 
 ufe of this devilifli tone. You do not underftand 
 it. Go and fpeak as you do, you will fee if you 
 \\ill get the lead applaufe. Ah, let us try a fcene 
 of a lover and his mifbefs. Upon which an aftor 
 and a&refs ihould have played a fcene together, 
 which is that of Camilla and Curiatius, 
 
 Doft go, dear foul, and does this fatal honour 
 
 Pleafe thee at the expence of all our welfare? 
 
 Too well I fee, a!as! &c. 
 
 like the other, and as naturally as he was able. 
 Then the poet immediately: You jeft fure; you 
 do net repeat it properly, it ought to be thus, 
 
 [Imitating Mrs. Beauchateau, a player of the 
 Hotel de Bourgogne. 
 
 Doft go, dear foul, &x. 
 M 6
 
 2j6 THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 No, I know thee better, &e. 
 Obferve how paffionate and natural this is. Ad- 
 mire this fmiling countenance which {he preferves 
 in the deepeft affliction. In Ihort, this is the de- 
 fign ; and he mould have run over all the players 
 in this manner. 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. I think the deGgn very humo- 
 rous, and 1 knew fome of them by the very fir ft 
 verfes. Pray continue. 
 
 Molicre, imitating Beauchateau, a comedian of 
 the Hotel Je Bourgogne, in fome lines of the Cid.3 
 
 Pierced to the bottom of my heart, &c. 
 And do you know this man in the Pompey of Ser< 
 
 [Imitating Hauterochej a comedian of the Ho- 
 tel de Bourgogne. 
 
 The enmity which reigns between both parties 
 
 Yields there no honour, &c. 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. I believe I am a little acquaint- 
 ed \vith hirn. 
 
 Moliere. And this? 
 
 [Imitating De Villiers, a comedian of the Ho- 
 tel de Bourgcgne. 
 
 Lord Polibore is dead, &c. 
 
 Mrs.De Brie. Yes, I know who he is; but there- 
 are fome amongfl them, I believe, that you would 
 iind it difficult to mimic. 
 
 Moliere. O! there is not one of them but what 
 may be caught in fome place or other, if I had ftu- 
 diedthem well: bul you make us lofetirne, which 
 is precious to us. But pray Itt us mind our play, 
 and not amufeourfelves any more with talking. [To 
 La Grunge. 3' Do you take care to play your part of 
 Marquis well with me. 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. Conflantly marquiiles.
 
 OF VERSAILLES. 277 
 
 Moliere. Yes,always-marquifles: What the ducc 
 would you have one take for an agreeable charac- 
 ter for the ftage? The Marquis now-a-days is the 
 jeft of the comedy; and as in all antient comedies 
 there was always a bufibon fervant that made tTie 
 audience laugh, fo in all our pieces now there mud. 
 be always a ridiculous Marquis to divert the com- 
 pany. 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. It it true, that cannot b'e omitted. 
 
 Moliere. For you, madam 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. You may by afTured that I will 
 acquit myfelf very ill of my character, it is too 
 ceremonious for me. 
 
 Moliere. Alas! madam, this is what you faid 
 when you had that given you in the School for 
 WivesCriticifed,yetyou performed itextremely well, 
 as every one did who faw you do it. Believe me, 
 this will be the fame, and you will play it better 
 than you imagine. 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. How can that be? for there is 
 net a lefs ceremonious perfcn in the world than I 
 am. 
 
 Moliere. You really are fo; but by reprefent- 
 ing a character well fo contrary to youi humour 
 ihews your reat abilities as an a&refs. Endeavour 
 then, all of you, to take the character of your parts 
 right, and to imagine that you are what you re- 
 prefent. To Du Crcify.] Your part is that of a 
 poet, and you ought to fill yourfelf with that cha- 
 racter, to mark the pedant air which he preferves 
 even in the converfation of the beau mcnde; that 
 fententious tone of voice, and that exactnefs of pro- 
 nunciation which lays a flrefs on all the fyllables, 
 and does net let one letter efcape cf the firrcteft or- 
 thography. r'To Breccurt.} J\s for you, you play
 
 278 THE I M P R O M P T IT 
 
 a courtier, as you have already done in the School' 
 for Wives Criticifed; that is, ycu mufl afiTume a 
 fedate air, a natural tone of voice, and make very 
 few gefturcs. [To La Grange.] As for you, I 
 have nothing to fay to you. [To Mrs. Ikjart.J 
 You icprefent one ot thofe women who, provided 
 they do not make love, think that every thing elfc 
 is permitted them; thofc women who are always 
 fiercely intrenched in their prudery, look defpica- 
 bly upon every body, and think all the good qua- 
 lities that others pofllfs are nothing in companion 
 of a wretched honour which every one difregards. 
 Have this character always before your eyes, that you 
 make the grimaces of it right. [To Mrs. De Brie.^j 
 As for you, you play one of thofe women who i- 
 magine they are the moft virtuous perfons in the 
 world, provided they fave appearances; thcfe wo- 
 men who think the crime lies only in the fcandr.l; 
 vho would carry on the affairs they have quietly 
 on the foot of an honourable attachment, and call 
 thofe friends whom other people call gallants. En- 
 HT fpiritcdly into this character. [To Ms. Mo- 
 liere,J You play the fame character as in the Cri- 
 ticifm, I have nothing to fay to you any more than 
 to Mrs, Du Pare. [To Mrs. Croify.|] As for ycu, 
 you reprefent one of thofe perfons who are fweet- 
 ly charitable to all the world, thofe women who 
 fpeak contemptibly of all, and vvculd be very for- 
 ry if they fufTered their neighbour to be praifed. 
 I believe you will perform this partvery well. [To 
 Mrs. Hervcy.] And for you,- you are a conceited 
 Abigail, who is alwavs thrufting herfe?f into con- 
 verfation, and catching as many cf her miftrciVs- 
 terms as poflible. I tell you ail your characters, 
 that you may imprint them ftrongly in your minds.
 
 OF VERSAILLES. 2J 9 
 
 Let us begin to repeat, and fee how it will do. 
 Oh, herein what we wanted, a curious impertinent. 
 
 SCENE II. 
 
 TORRILLIERE, MOLIERE, BRECOURT, 
 LA GRANGE, DU CROJSY, MESDEMOI- 
 SELLES DU PARC, BEJART, DE BRIE, 
 MOLIERE, DUCROISY, HERVEY. 
 
 T ORRILLIERE. 
 
 GOOD-MORROW, Mr. Moliere. 
 Moliere. Sir, yourfervant. Afi;{e.]] The 
 duce take the fellow ! 
 
 Torrilliere. How goes it ? 
 
 Moliere. Very well, at your fervice, [To the 
 
 adtreffes.J Ladies, do not 
 
 Torrilliere. I cocie from a place where I have 
 been faying a vaft number of fine things of you. 
 
 Moliere. I am obliged to you. [Afide.3 Plague 
 take thee ! [To the a&ors.J Have a little care 
 Torrilliere. You play a new piece to-day, do 
 you? 
 
 Moliere. Yes, Sir. [To the a&reffes.] Do not 
 
 forget 
 
 Torrilliere. The king obliges you to do it, hey? 
 Moliere. Yes, Sir. [To the adlors.^ Pray re- 
 member to 
 
 Torrilliere. What do you call it? 
 
 Moliere. Yes, Sir. 
 
 Toniiliere, I afk what you call it. 
 
 Moliere. Y\ hv really I do not know. {"To the 
 
 r.ctreHes/] If you pleafe you muft 
 
 Torrilliere. In what inanner (hall you be drcf- 
 fcd ?
 
 Z8o THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 Moliere. Juft as we are now. [To the aitcrs.J 
 Pray now 
 
 Torrilliere. When do you begin ? 
 
 Moliere. When the king comes. Afide,] Duce 
 take the queftion-monger! 
 
 Torrilliere. When do you think he will come ?" 
 
 Moliere. Indeed, Sir, I do not know. 
 
 Torrilliere. Do not you know 
 
 Moliere. Look you, Sir, I am the mod igno- 
 rant man in the world, I know nothing of whatever 
 you may afk me I' proteft' to you. ([Afide.] I am. 
 mad, this troublefome fop comes with an air of 
 tranquillity aflcing one queftions, and never confi- 
 ders that one has other things in one's head. 
 
 Torrillieie. Ladies, ycur fervant. 
 
 Moliere. Good. Now he is got on the other 
 Cde. 
 
 Torrilliere to Mrs Croify.j] You are as lovely 
 as a little angel. Do you play, both of you, to- 
 day ? 
 
 f_Lcoking on Mrs. Hervey. 
 
 Mrs. Croify. Yes, Sir. 
 
 Torrilliere. The comedy would be very little 
 worth if you had not a part in it. 
 
 Moliere whifpering the attreffes.^] Will not you- 
 fend that man there a-going? 
 
 Mrs. De BrietoTorrilliere.^ Sir, we have fome- 
 thing to repeat together. 
 
 Torrilliere. Pray do not be hindered by .me. You 
 having to do but go on. 
 
 Mrs. De Bfie, But 
 
 Tcrrilliere. No, no, I fhould be very forry to 
 difturb any body; do freely what you have to do, 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. Yes, but
 
 ^ F VERSAILLES. 28 1' 
 
 Torrilliere. I am a man of no ceremony, I tdl 
 you, and you may repeat any thing you chufe. 
 
 Moliere. Sir, thefe ladies are unwilling to tell 
 you, that they could wHh no body were here, dur- 
 ing this rehearfal. 
 
 Torrilliere. Why? there is no danger as to me. 
 
 Moliere. Sir, it is a cuftom which they obferve, 
 and you will be more delighted when things fur- 
 prize you. 
 
 Torrilliere. I will go let them know then that 
 you are ready. 
 
 Moliere. Pray do not be in fuch a hurry, Sir. 
 
 SCENE III. 
 
 MOLIERE, BRECOURT, LA GRANGE, DU 
 CROISY, MESDEMOISELLES DU PARC, 
 BEJART, D E BRIE, MOLIERE, DU 
 CROISY, HERVEY. 
 
 MOLIERE. 
 
 WHAT a vaft number of impertinent* 
 there are in the world! Well, come, let 
 us begin. Firfl then imagine that the fcene is in 
 the king's anti-chamber, for that is a place where 
 witty things enough daily pafs. It iseafy to bring 
 there all the perfons we have a- mind to, and we 
 may even find reafons to warrant the coming in of 
 the women which I introduce. The comedy be- 
 gins with two marquHTes meeting each other. [To 
 La Grange.] Remember you to come as I told; 
 you, there, with that air which is called the Bel 
 Air, combing your peruke, and humming a tune 
 between your teeth. Fa! lal de rol lol lol. Do 
 you range yourfelves then, for the two marquiffes
 
 2#2 THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 muft have room, they are not people to be con- 
 tained in a little bounds. [To La Grange.]] Come, 
 fpeak. 
 
 La Grange. C( Good-morrow, marquis." 
 
 Moliere. Alas! marquifies do not fpeak in that: 
 tonej you mud take it a little higher^ the moft 
 part of thefc gentlemen affecl a particular manner 
 cf fpeaking, to diltinguifh themielves from the vul- 
 gar. Good-morrow, Marquis. Begin again. 
 
 La Grange. " Good-morrow, Marquis. 
 
 Moliere. " Uah: ^.larquis, your fervant." 
 
 La Grange. " What doll thou do here?" 
 
 Moliere. "'Sdeath! you fee I wait till all thefe 
 ** gentlemen have unftoppe'd the door to mew my 
 ' face there." 
 
 La Grange. " What a prodigious croud there 
 " is! I do not care to thruft my nofe in amongfr. 
 " them, and had much rather belaft in going ia." 
 
 Moliere. " There are twenty pecpJe who are 
 " certain they will not get in, and yet will net 
 " forbear crouding and taking up all the avenues 
 e \ of the gate." 
 
 La Grange. " Let us bawl out both our names 
 " to the porter, that he may call us in." 
 
 Moliere. " That is well enough forthee, butfor 
 * ( my part I will not be played by Moliere." 
 
 La Grange. ' However, marquis, I think it 
 <( was you he played in his Criticifm." 
 
 Moliere. " I! you are very much miitaken, it 
 tf was yourfelf." 
 
 La Grange. " Hah! faith you are good enough 
 " to apply your own character to me." 
 
 Moliere. " I'gad, you are a pleafant mortal, to 
 " give to me what belongs to yourfelf."
 
 OF VERSAILLES. 28; } 
 
 La Grange laughing.] ' Ha, ha, ha f that is 
 " drole." 
 
 Moliere laughing.] " Ha, ha, ha! that is comi- 
 < cal." 
 
 La Grange." What! you will maintain that it 
 " is not you that is played in the character of the 
 4< marquis in the School for Wives Criticifed." 
 
 Mohere. "It is true; it is I. Deteflabls y 'fdeafhf 
 " deteftabk, cream-tart. It is I, it is I, it is cer- 
 " tainly no one elfe.' r 
 
 La Grange. " Yes, i'gad, it is you, you have no 
 *' need to rallyj and if you v/ill, we will lay awa- 
 ' ger, and fee which of us is in the wrong." 
 
 Moliere. " And what will you lay?" 
 
 La Grange. <{ I will lay an hundred piftoles that 
 " it is you." 
 
 Moliere. " And I, an hundred piftoles that it 
 " is you." 
 
 La Grange. " A hundred piftoles down." 
 
 Moliere. " Down. Ninety piftoles upon A- 
 " myntas, and ten piftoles down." 
 
 La Grange. " I will." 
 
 Moliere. *' It 5? done." 
 
 La Grange. " Your money runs a great rifque." 
 
 Moliere. u Your's is well ventured." 
 
 La Grange. " Who (hall determine it ?" 
 
 Moliere to Brecourt. ~] "' Here is a man that 
 " (hall judge us. Chevalier." 
 
 Brecourt- " What?" 
 
 Moiiere. So, there is another takes the tone or 
 a marquis. Did not I tell you that you played a 
 part wherein you (liould fpeak naturally? 
 
 Brecourt True. 
 
 Moliere. Come then. " Chevalier?" 
 
 Brecourt. " What?"
 
 284 THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 Moliere. " Judge between us on a wager we 
 " have laid.'* 
 . Brecourt. " And what is it?" 
 
 Moliere. " We difpute who is the marquis of" 
 Moliere's Crkicifm ; " he lays it is me, and I lay 
 44 it is him." 
 
 Brecourt. " And I judge that it is neither 
 " of yoa; you art both fools to apply fuch things 
 ** to yourfdvesj and this is what I heard Mo- 
 " Here complain of the other day, fpeaking to 
 " perfcns who charged him with the fame thing 
 "' that you do. He f;ud that nothing difpleafed 
 '* him fo much as being accufed ofliavingan eye 
 " to feme particular perfons inthepidlureshedraws: 
 ** that his defign is to paint the manners, without 
 " touching the perfon; and that all the characters 
 " he reprefents are airy characters, and properly 
 ". phantoms, which he drefTes according to his fan- 
 tc cy to pleafe the fpeftators: that he fhould be 
 " very forry if he had marked any body in them ; 
 " and that if any thing was capable of difgufting 
 M him againft writing comedies, it xvas the refem- 
 *' Waapes which people will always find in them, 
 " and the notion which his enemies malicioufly 
 *' endeavbur to keep up, to do him ill offices with 
 " fome people whom he never thought of. And 
 *' indeed I find he is in the right; for why pray 
 " fhould people apply all his geftures and all his 
 " words, and endeavour to bring him into quar- 
 " rels by faying openly, be plays fuch a one, when 
 '* they are things which may fit a hundred perfons? 
 " As the main defign of comedy is t reprefent in 
 ** general all the imperfections of men, and prin- 
 " cipally of the men of our age, it is impoffible 
 " for Moliere to wrke any character which will 
 " not hit fome one or other-, and if.he muft be a.c-
 
 OF VERSAILLES. 285 
 
 * ; cufed of having aimedat all theperfonsin whom 
 4t the faults he defcribes are to be found, he mult 
 ** certainly give over writing comedies." 
 
 Moliere. ' Faith, Chevalier, you have a mind 
 *' to juflify" Moliere, *' andfpare our friend there." 
 La Grange, " Not at all ; it is you he fpares, 
 *' and we will get other judges." 
 
 Moliere. "Be it fo. But, Chevalier, do not you 
 il think, that your Moliere is exhaufted now, and 
 
 " that he will find no more matter for 
 
 Brecourt. " More matter? Ah dear marquis, we 
 <l (hall always furnifh him with enough, and we 
 " do not take the way to grow wifer for all that 
 *' he does, and all that he fays." 
 
 Moliere, Stay. You muft mark all this paflage 
 
 more. Here me fpeak it " And that he will 
 
 " find no more matter for more matter? Ah! 
 
 ** dear Marquis, we (hall always furnifh him with 
 " enough; and every thing that he does and fays 
 *' never makes us wifer. Do you think he has 
 *' exhaufted in his comedies all the ridicule of man- 
 " kind? And, without going from court, has he 
 <4 not ftill twenty characters of people he has not 
 " yet touched upon? Has he not for example 
 " thofe who profefs the greateft friendfhip in the 
 " world, and who, as fcon as their backs areturn- 
 <c edjcfteem it a piece of gallantry to tear one ano- 
 " ther in pieces? Has he not thofe egregious fyco- 
 * f phants, thofe infipid flatterers, who do not fea- 
 {< fon with the leaft fait the praifes they beftow, 
 " and all whofe flatteries have a fulfomertefs which 
 l ' makes thofe that hear them fick at heart? Has he 
 " not thofe bafe occaiional courtiers, thofe perfi- 
 '* dious adorers of fortune, who praife you in pro- 
 t( fpsrity and run you down in adverfity? Has he
 
 286 THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 " not thofe who are always difcontent with the 
 <f court, thofe ufelefs attendants, thofe trouble' 
 u fome affiduous creatures, thofe people I fay who 
 " can only reckon their importunities for fervices, 
 " and who expect a reward for having befieged the 
 " king ten years running? Has he not thofe who 
 " equally carefs every body, who hand round their 
 " civilities from right to left, and run to all they 
 < c fee with the fame embraces, and the fame pro- 
 " teftations of friendship? Sir, your mod obedient 
 " humble fervant ; Sir, I am entirely devoted to 
 IC you. Reckon me amongft yours, my dear." 
 *' flcem me, Sir, as the warmeil of your friends. 
 " Sir, I am delighted to fee you. Do me the fa- 
 " vour to employ me, be perfuaded that I am en- 
 " tirely yours. You are the man of all the world 
 " I efteem the moft; there is nobody I honour e- 
 " qual to you ; I befeech you to believe it ; Icon- 
 ** jure you not to doubt itj your fervant, mofc 
 '* humble flave. Ge, go, marquis, Moliere will 
 " always have more fubjecls than he defires, and 
 " every thing that he has touched upon hitherto 
 " is but a trirle in comparifon of what remains." 
 This mould be played in this manner. 
 
 Brecourt. Enough. 
 
 Moliere. Continue. 
 
 Brecourt. " Here is Climene and Eliza," 
 
 Moliere to- Mrs. Du Pare and Mrs. Moliere,]} 
 Upon which you two are to come, j^To Mrs. Du 
 Pare.]] Do you take care to make grimaces as you 
 ought, and to bs very ceremonious. This will be 
 a little conflraint upon you, but we muit fometimes 
 do fo. 
 
 Mrs. Moliere, "Certainly, madam, I knew yon
 
 OF VERSAILLES. 2#7 
 
 <; a great way off, and faw plainly by your air that 
 " it could be nobody but you. 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. " I am come to wait here, do 
 ** you fee, till a man comes out with whom I have 
 -" fome bufmefs." 
 
 Mrs.Moliere. " Am! foam I." 
 
 Moliere. " Ladies, thefe trunks will ferve you 
 " for elbow chairs." 
 
 Mis. Du Pare. Come, madam, pray take 
 -" your place." 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. " After you, madam." 
 
 Moliere. Very well. After thefe little dumb 
 ceremonies, let every one take their place and fpeak 
 fitting, except the marquifles, who muft fometimes 
 fit and fometimes iland, according to their mutu- 
 al reftlefihefs. " 'Sdeath, Chevalier, you ought 
 ** to give your rowlers phyfic," 
 
 Brecourt. " How?" 
 
 Moliere. " They are very bad." 
 
 Brecourt, " Your punfter's fervant." 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. " Lard ! madam, I think your 
 {C complexion is of a dazling whitenefs, and your 
 * { lips of an amazing flame-colour. 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. " Ah! What do you fay, ma- 
 <c dam? Do not look at me, I am very ugly to-day. 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. " Lift up your hood a little, ma- 
 " dam, if you pleafe., 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. " Fie! I am quite mocking, I 
 " tell you, and quite frighten myfelf." 
 
 Mrs, Moliere. <c You are fo beautiful !" 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. u No, no." 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. " 8'iew yourfelf." 
 
 Mrs, DuParc. " Oh! pray do not." 
 
 Mrs.Moliere. " Pray now." 
 
 Mrs. DtuParc. .' Lard! no."
 
 2 8S THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. " Yes, do." 
 
 Mrs.Du Pare. You vex me." 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. " One moment." 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. " Ah!" 
 
 Mrs Moliere. '* Pofitively you {hall fhew your- 
 *' felf, we cannot bear not to fee you." 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. ** Lard! What a ftrange perfon 
 *' you are! you are furioufly fet upon what you have 
 " a mind to." 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. " Ah! madam, I will fwear you 
 " hare no difadvantage in appearing in full light. 
 " How cruel people are, who fay that you lay on 
 ' fomething! Truly, I (hall now be able to difprove 
 " them." 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. " Alas! I do not fo much as know 
 " what they call laying on fomething. But where 
 ** are thefe ladies going?" 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. " Allow us, ladies, to tell you, 
 " by the bye, the mod agreeable news in the 
 '*' world. There is Mr. Lyfidas come to let us 
 " know, that there is a play made again'ft Mo- 
 *' Here, which is to be performed by the grand 
 " comedians." 
 
 Moliere. " It is true, they would have read it 
 " to me, and it is one called Br Brou Brouf- 
 " -Taut that made it." 
 
 Du Croify. " Sir, it is ported up under the 
 " name of Bourfalt; but to tell you the fecret, 
 ' feveral people have fet their hand to this work, 
 *' and a pretty high expectation ought to be con- 
 <{ ceived of it. As all the authors and all the co- 
 '* medians look on Moliere as their greateft ene- 
 " my, we are all united to do him a diflervicei 
 *' every one of us has given a flroke of the pencil 
 " to his picture, but we take care not to put our
 
 CF VERSAILLES. 289 
 
 ' <( names to it: It would have been too glorious 
 < for him to fink in the eyes of the world, under 
 * 4 the efforts of all Parnafius; and to renderhisde- 
 ** feat more ignominious, we have chofen an author 
 " without reputation on purpofe." 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. " For my part, I own to you, 
 * that it gives me^reat delight." 
 
 Moliere, " I am glad at it too, I'gad the jeft- 
 14 er fliall be jefted on, he fhall be under the claw 
 " i'faith." 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. " That will teach him to fad - 
 *' rize every body. "What? would the impertinent 
 '* fellow have us women to be deftitute of wit? 
 " does he condemn nil our elevated expreffions, 
 ** and pretend that we Ihould never talk in any 
 but alowftyle?" 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. " Language is Nothing; but he 
 *' cenfures all cur attachments, however innocent 
 *' they may be, and according to hi* way -of talk- 
 " ing, it is being criminal to have merit." 
 
 Mrs. Du doily. "That is infupportable ; there 
 <4 is no woman can do any thing for the future. 
 *' What bufi-nefs has he to difturb our huibands, 
 *' and, by opening their eyes, make them perceive 
 *' things they noer thought of?" 
 
 Mrs. Bcjait. '* All that is not worth minding, 
 ** but he even fatirizes \irtuous women, and this 
 <{ wicked buffoon calls them virtuous flie-devils." 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. " It is an impertinent mortal, he 
 ** ought to have his pennyworth of it." 
 
 Du Croify. " The representation of this come- 
 *' dy, madam, will have need of being fupported, 
 l< and the comedians of the hotel'' 
 
 Mrs. DuParc. " Tlu-/ r.c.d not be in theleaft 
 
 VOL. II N
 
 2p THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 *' fear about their piece, I will venture my life on 
 " the fuccefs of it. 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. You are in the right, madair, 
 " too many people are concerned to think itgood. 
 " I will leave you to imagine if all thofewho think 
 " themfclves fatirized by Moliere will not take 
 " the opportunity to be revenged on him by ap- 
 " plauding this comedy." 
 
 Brecourt ironically.] " Certainly, and for my 
 " part I can anfwer for twelve marquifTes, fix ro- 
 " mantic ladies, twenty coquettes, and thirty cuck- 
 " olds, \vho will not fail to clap it." 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. Pieally. What is the reafon that 
 ** he offends all thefe perfons, and particularly 
 " cuckolds, who are the beft people in the world ?" 
 
 Moliere. " By the flars, lam told that they will 
 " pay ofi both him and all hiscomediesina hand- 
 l ' fome manner, and that all his comedians and 
 " authors, from the cedar to the hylTop,are de.vil- 
 " h'bly animated againit him." 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. " It will fit him but right. Why 
 " does he write odious pieces which all Paris go 
 " to fee, and wherein he describes people fo well 
 " that every body knows themfelves in them? Whv 
 *' does not he compcfe comedies likethofe of Mr. 
 " Lyfidas? he would have nobody r.gainlt him, 
 " and all the authors would fneak well of it. It 
 " is true that fuch plays have not that great ccn- 
 " courfe of people; but in return they are always 
 *' well written, nobody writes againft them, and 
 " all thofe that fee them are extremely dcfircus to 
 '* think them good." 
 
 Du Croify. " It is.true, 1 have the advantage of 
 lf not making myfelf enemies, and of having all 
 t( ray works approved of by the learned."
 
 OF VERSAILLES. 2QI 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. " You do well to be fatisfied 
 " with yourich". That is worth more than all the 
 " applaufes of the public, and than all the money 
 " which mry be got by Moliere's pieces. What 
 u matter is it to you v.'hether people come to 
 " your plays, provided they are approved of by 
 '* the gentlemen your brethren ?" 
 
 La Grange. '*' But when do they perform the 
 " Painter's Picture?" 
 
 Du Croify. " I Jo not k now, but I fhall be in 
 " the utmoil readinefi to appear in the fir ft ro\\r 
 " to clap it/' 
 
 Moliere. " And fo-fliiill I." 
 
 La Grange. " And I likewife, as 1 hope to be 
 " faved." 
 
 Mrs. Du Pare. tc For my pait, I will (hew my- 
 " felf a woman there as I ought, and anfwer for 
 " a bravery of approbation, which mall rout all 
 ** die adverfe judges; it is really the leail thing 
 " we ought to do, to fupport with our praifes the 
 " revenger of our interefls." 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. It is well faid." 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. " And what we all mulYdo." 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. " Certainly." 
 
 Mrs. Du Croify, " Undoubtedly." 
 
 Mrs. Hervey. u No quarter to thisminiicker cf 
 people." 
 
 Moliere. " I'faith, friend Chevalier, your Mo- 
 f{ liere muft conceal himfelf." 
 
 Brecourt. < Who, he? I promife yoUj marquis, 
 '* he intends to go upon the flage to laugh with 
 '* all the others at the picture they have drawn of 
 " him." 
 
 Moliere. " I'gad, it will be on the wrong fide 
 <f of his face that he will laugh then." 
 N 2
 
 2p2 THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 Brecourt. Come, come, perhaps he will find 
 " more caufe to laugh than you imagine : I was 
 " fheTved the piece, and as every thing that is a- 
 ** greeable in it are actually the thoughts that were 
 * taken from Moliere, the joy which that may. 
 " ive will undoubtedly have no reafon to dif- 
 " pleafe him: for as to the pare where they en - 
 * deavour to blacken him, 1 am the moil decei- 
 " ved in the world if any one approve of it. And 
 " as to all the people whom they have ftrove to 
 " animate againft him, becaufe he makes too 
 " great refemblancesthey fay in iiis pieces, befides 
 " that it has an ill look, I never faw any thing 
 " more foolifh, or worfe taken, and I never yet 
 ** thought that a comedian ought to be blamed for 
 " defcribing men too juftly." 
 
 La Grange. " The comedians told me theyex- 
 " pecked an anfwer from him, and that " 
 
 Brecourt. u An anfwer ! faith I mould think 
 " him a great fool if he took the pains to anfwer 
 " their invectives. Every body very well knows 
 " from what motive they proceed, and the beftan- 
 " Aver he can mak^ them is a comedy that may 
 u fucceed like all "his others. That is the true 
 " way of being revenged on them as he ought j 
 '* and of the humour I know them to be, I am 
 " well afFured that a new piece, which may take 
 " away people from theirs, would vex them more 
 " than all the fatires that can be made on their 
 " perfons." 
 
 Moliere. " But, Chevalier " 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. Let me interrupt the rehearfal a 
 little. [To MoliereJ Allow me to tell you, if 1 
 had been in your place I would have carried things 
 otherwifc. Every one expects a vigorous anfwer
 
 OF VERSAILLES. 2c?3 
 
 from you, and after the manner they tell me thnt 
 you are treated in this comedy, you ought injufticc 
 to fay every thing againft the comedians, and noc 
 to fpare one of them. 
 
 Moliere. Your talking thus provokes me, and 
 this is the madnefs peculiar to you women; you 
 would have me take fire at once againft them, and 
 after their example go and break out immediately 
 into invectives and abufes. A vail deal of honour 
 I Ihould get by it, and a great deal of vexation I 
 fhould give them! Are not they readily prepared 
 for fuch fort of things, and when they are delibe- 
 rating if they iliould play the Painter's Picture far 
 fear cf an anfwer, did not fome amongft them an- 
 fwer, let him abufc us as much as he will, provided 
 we can get money? Is not that the mark of a foul 
 very fenfible of fha-r.e, and mall not I be well re- 
 venged cf them by giving them what they, arewil- 
 ling to receive. 
 
 .Mi s. De Brie. Yet they complained much of 
 three, or four words which you faid of them irv 
 your Griticifriij and Romantic Ladies. 
 
 Molieie. It is true, thofe three or four words 
 are very offenfive, and thty have great reafon to 
 quote them. Go, go, it is not that ; I have done 
 them no prejudice, only I was fo fortunate as to 
 pleafe more than they wilhed I fhould. They ri- 
 dicule my pieces, which I am glad they do; I 
 would not wiih to write one to pleafe them, ifi 
 would not be for my benefit ; the whole of their 
 proceedings fmce we came to Paris, fliews plainly 
 what aficcts them; but they may do their woril r 
 it fhall give me no uneafintfs. 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. However, there certainly can be 
 no pleafure in feeing our writings taken to pieces- 
 N 3
 
 2p4 THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 Moliere. As I have got all I wiflied by my co- 
 medy, it is of no confequence to me; asl havehad 
 the happinefs of pleafing their majefties, whom I 
 make it my ftudy to pleafe, I may be content with 
 its fortune; all other reflections are of no confe- 
 quence to me. Now, it is attacking the judgment 
 of perfons who approved my piece, rather than the 
 writer of it. 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. Upon my word, I would pi ay off 
 the little Monfieur Author, who attacks people 
 that do not trouble themfelves about him. 
 
 Moliere. What a fool you are ! Mr. Bcurfault 
 would havebeen a fine fubject to divert thecourtin- 
 deed! I would like to know how they would fit him 
 out to make him amufe them; and were he to be 
 criticifed upon the ftage,he would be fo happy as to 
 make people laugh. To be played before an au- 
 guft aflembly would be doing him too much ho- 
 nour, and that is all he could wifh for: he attacks 
 me chearfully, on purpofe that people may know 
 him. As he can lofe nothing, he is fet up againft 
 me by the comedians with an intention to engage 
 me in a filly quarrel, and to divert my time from 
 my other writings, by that foolifh artifice, and you- 
 are filly enough to be caught by their fnare; but 
 I am determined to declare publickly upon this 
 point, to all their criticifms, that I will make no re- 
 ply; let them take my writings to pieces as much 
 as they pleafe, I (hall not differ v, r ith them for 
 that; they may new-make them after us, if they 
 chufe it, ami bring them upon their ftage, and if 
 they will be fatisfied with what I can convenient- 
 ly fpare them, I will gladly contribute to their 
 fupport, by their ufing my pieces. But there 
 fhculd be bounds fet to civility; fome things will
 
 OF VERSAILLES. 295- 
 
 nrot create a laugh either to the perfon of whom 
 they are fpoken, or the fpehitors. I freely give to 
 them my works, figure, geflure, tone of voice, and 
 .manner of reciting, to fay and do what they pleafe 
 with -, if they, are of any benefit to them, I will 
 chearfully allow all this, and will be pleafed if it 
 be ferviceable to them. But when I am fo civil as 
 to give up fo much, they fhould favour me with 
 the reft, and not attack me in fuch things as I am 
 told they do This is all I requeft of the good 
 gentleman who writes for them, and they will get 
 no other anfwer from me. 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. But really 
 
 Molicre. Really you would make a fool of me. 
 "We divert ourfdves with talking, inftead of re- 
 hearfing: our play; let us therefore talk no more* 
 but go on. I have forgot whereabouts w were. 
 
 Mrs. De Brie. You were at the paflage juft 
 now 
 
 Moliere. Blefs me! the king is certainly come, 
 for T hear a noife, and now we have not time to 
 go through it. You fee how foolifh iris to trifle 
 away time! You muft even do as well as you can 
 or the reft. 
 
 Mrs. Bejart. But upon my word, I am afraid, 
 and cannot play till I have rehearfedit all. 
 
 Moliere. How! Cannot you play your part? 
 
 Mrs Bejart. No. 
 
 Mrs. Dxi Pare. Nor I mine. 
 
 Mrs. de Brie. Nor I neither. 
 
 Mrs. Moliere. Nor I. 
 
 Mrs Hervey. Nor can I. 
 
 Mrs. Du Croify. Nor I. 
 
 Maiiere. Do you all make a jeft of me? What 
 do you intend to do ?
 
 296 THE IMPROMPTU 
 
 SCENE IV. 
 
 BE J ART, MOLIEKE, LA GRANGE, D IT 
 CRO 1ST, MESDEMOISELLESDUPARC, 
 BEJART, DE BRIE, MOLIERE, D tf 
 C R OIS Y, HE RVE Y. 
 
 BEJART. 
 
 GENTLEMEN, I am come to acquaint you, 
 that the king is come, and waits for you to 
 begin the play. 
 
 Moliere. Oh! Sir, I am diftra&ed jufl now, the 
 women are afraid they cannot play, and tell me 
 they muft rehearfe it before they begin. The 
 king is good, he mull favour us with a moment 
 longer, he is fenfible it was doneina hurry* 
 
 SCENE V, 
 
 MOLIERE, and the fame alors, except Bejart, 
 
 M O L I E R E. 
 
 (RAY do endeavour to recover yourfelves , I 
 
 beg you will take courage. 
 Mrs. DuParc. You mould go and excufe your- 
 felf. 
 
 Moliere. How can I excufe rnyfelf?
 
 OF VERSAILLES'. 
 
 SCENE VI. 
 UOL i ERE, andthe famea&ors, A BUS Y-B o D y; 
 
 A B U S Y-B O D Y. 
 
 GENTLEMEN, begin. 
 Moliere. In a little, Sir. I believe I fhall- 
 go mad in this bufinefs, and 
 
 SCENE VIL 
 MOLIERE, andthe fame a&ois, A s E CON D 
 
 BUS Y-B O D Y: 
 A S EC ON D B U S Y-B OD Y. 
 
 GENTLEMEN, begin. 
 Moliere. This minute, Sir. [Tohis com- 
 panions.] Can I have the aflurance 
 
 SCENE VIII. 
 M o L J E R E, and the fame aftors, A THIRD; 
 
 BUS Y-B O D Y. 
 A THIRD BUSY-fiODY. 
 
 GENTLEMEN, begin.. 
 Moliere. Sir we are juft going to begin* 
 How bufy thefe people are to come and defire u* 
 ;o begin, when the king did notfend them to doit!
 
 2p THE IMPROMPTU, ETC. 
 
 SCENE IX. 
 M o L IE R E, and the fame aclors, A F o u R T KT 
 
 BUS Y-B O D Y. 
 A F O U R T H B U S Y- B O D Y. 
 
 GENTLEMEN, begin. 
 Moliere. Yes, Sir. What then! fliall I 
 have the confafion 
 
 S C E N E T H E L A S T. 
 
 BEJART, MOLIERE, and the fame a&ors. 
 
 MOLIERE. 
 
 SIR, you are come to defire us to begin, but 
 Bejart. No, gentlemen, I come to inform 
 you that the king has been told cf the confufion 
 you are in, and will, in his goodnefs, take any co- 
 medy now, and have the new one afterwards, when 
 they are all more perfect. 
 
 Moliere. Sir, you tranfport me with joy; the 
 king has done us an exceeding great favour, by gi- 
 ving us time, and we will go and return him: 
 thanks for his goodnefc. 
 
 END OF VOLUME SE

 
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