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A Trip to Scarborough; and, The Critic Part 6

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_Miss Hoyd_. My lord: why, is my husband come?

_Nurse_. Yes, marry, is he; and a goodly person too.

_Miss Hoyd_. [_Hugs_ NURSE.] Oh, my dear nurse, forgive me this once, and I'll never misuse you again; no, if I do, you shall give me three thumps on the back, and a great pinch by the cheek.

_Nurse_. Ah, the poor thing! see now it melts; it's as full of good-nature as an egg's full of meat.

_Miss Hoyd._ But, my dear nurse, don't lie now--is he come, by your troth?

 

_Nurse._ Yes, by my truly, is he.

_Miss Hoyd_. O Lord! I'll go and put on my laced tucker, though I'm locked up for a month for't.

[_Exeunt_. MISS HOYDEN _goes off capering, and twirling her doll by its leg._]

ACT IV.

SCENE I.--_A Room in_ SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY'S _House._ _Enter_ MISS HOYDEN _and_ NURSE.

_Nurse_. Well, miss, how do you like your husband that is to be?

_Miss Hoyd_. O Lord, nurse, I'm so overjoyed I can scarce contain myself!

_Nurse_. Oh, but you must have a care of being too fond; for men, nowadays, hate a woman that loves 'em.

_Miss Hoyd_. Love him! why, do you think I love him, nurse?

Ecod I would not care if he was hanged, so I were but once married to him. No, that which pleases me is to think what work I'll make when I get to London; for when I am a wife and a lady both, ecod, I'll flaunt it with the best of 'em. Ay, and I shall have money enough to do so too, nurse.

_Nurse_. Ah, there's no knowing that, miss; for though these lords have a power of wealth indeed, yet, as I have heard say, they give it all to their s.l.u.ts and their trulls, who joggle it about in their coaches, with a murrain to 'em, whilst poor madam sits sighing and wishing, and has not a spare half-crown to buy her a Practice of Piety.

_Miss Hoyd_. Oh, but for that, don't deceive yourself, nurse; for this I must say of my lord, he's as free as an open house at Christmas; for this very morning he told me I should have six hundred a year to buy pins. Now if he gives me six hundred a year to buy pins, what do you think he'll give me to buy petticoats?

_Nurse_. Ay, my dearest, he deceives thee foully, and he's no better than a rogue for his pains! These Londoners have got a gibberish with 'em would confound a gipsy. That which they call pin-money, is to buy everything in the versal world, down to their very shoe-knots. Nay, I have heard some folks say that some ladies, if they'll have gallants as they call 'em, are forced to find them out of their pin-money too.--But look, look, if his honour be not coming to you!--Now, if I were sure you would behave yourself handsomely, and not disgrace me that have brought you up, I'd leave you alone together.

_Miss Hoyd_. That's my best nurse; do as you'd be done by.

Trust us together this once, and if I don't show my breeding, I wish I may never be married, but die an old maid.

_Nurse_. Well, this once I'll venture you. But if you disparage me-- _Miss Hoyd_. Never fear. [_Exit_ NURSE.]

_Enter_ TOM FASHION.

_Fash_. Your servant, madam; I'm glad to find you alone, for I have something of importance to speak to you about.

_Miss Hoyd_. Sir (my lord, I meant), you may speak to me about what you please, I shall give you a civil answer.

_Fash_. You give so obliging an one, it encourages me to tell you in a few words what I think, both for your interest and mine. Your father, I suppose you know, has resolved to make me happy in being your husband; and I hope I may obtain your consent to perform what he desires.

_Miss Hoyd_. Sir, I never disobey my father in anything but eating green gooseberries.

_Fash_. So good a daughter must needs be an admirable wife.

I am therefore impatient till you are mine, and hope you will so far consider the violence of my love, that you won't have the cruelty to defer my happiness so long as your father designs it.

_Miss Hoyd_. Pray, my lord, how long is that?

_Fash_. Madam, a thousand years--a whole week.

_Miss Hoyd_. Why, I thought it was to be to-morrow morning, as soon as I was up. I'm sure nurse told me so.

_Fash_. And it shall be to-morrow morning, if you'll consent.

_Miss Hoyd_. If I'll consent! Why I thought I was to obey you as my husband.

_Fash_. That's when we are married. Till then, I'm to obey you.

_Miss Hoyd_. Why then, if we are to take it by turns, it's the same thing. I'll obey you now, and when we are married you shall obey me.

_Fash_. With all my heart. But I doubt we must get nurse on our side, or we shall hardly prevail with the chaplain.

_Miss Hoyd_. No more we shan't, indeed; for he loves her better than he loves his pulpit, and would always be a-preaching to her by his good will.

_Fash_. Why then, my dear, if you'll call her hither we'll persuade her presently.

_Miss Hoyd_. O Lud! I'll tell you a way how to persuade her to anything.

_Fash_. How's that?

_Miss Hoyd_. Why tell her she's a handsome comely woman, and give her half a crown.

_Fash_. Nay, if that will do, she shall have half a score of 'em.

_Miss Hoyd_. O gemini! for half that she'd marry you herself.--I'll run and call her. [_Exit.]

Fash_. So! matters go on swimmingly. This is a rare girl, i'faith. I shall have a fine time on't with her at London.

_Enter_ LORY.

So, Lory, what's the matter?

_Lory_. Here, sir--an intercepted packet from the enemy; your brother's postilion brought it. I knew the livery, pretended to be a servant of Sir Tunbelly's, and so got possession of the letter.

_Fash. [Looks at the letter_.] Ouns! he tells Sir Tunbelly here that he will be with him this evening, with a large party to supper.--Egad, I must marry the girl directly.

_Lory_. Oh, zounds, sir, directly to be sure. Here she comes. [_Exit_.]

_Fash_. And the old Jezebel with her.

_Re-enter_ MISS HOYDEN _and_ NURSE.

How do you do, good Mrs. Nurse? I desired your young lady would give me leave to see you, that I might thank you for your extraordinary care and kind conduct in her education: pray accept this small acknowledgment for it at present, and depend upon my further kindness when I shall be that happy thing, her husband.

[_Gives her money._]

_Nurse_. [_Aside_.] Gold, by the maakins!-- [_Aloud_.] Your honour's goodness is too great. Alas! all I can boast of is, I gave her pure and good milk, and so your honour would have said, an you had seen how the poor thing thrived, and how it would look up in my face, and crow and laugh, it would.

_Miss Hoyd_. [_To_ NURSE, _taking her angrily aside_.] Pray, one word with you. Pr'ythee, nurse, don't stand ripping up old stories, to make one ashamed before one's love. Do you think such a fine proper gentleman as he is cares for a fiddlecome tale of a child? If you have a mind to make him have a good opinion of a woman, don't tell him what one did then, tell him what one can do now.--[_To_ Tom FASHION.] I hope your honour will excuse my mis-manners to whisper before you. It was only to give some orders about the family.

_Fash_. Oh, everything, madam, is to give way to business; besides, good housewifery is a very commendable quality in a young lady.

_Miss Hoyd_. Pray, sir, are young ladies good housewives at London-town? Do they darn their own linen?

_Fash_. Oh no, they study how to spend money, not to save.

_Miss Hoyd_. Ecod, I don't know but that may be better sport, eh, nurse?

_Fash_. Well, you have your choice, when you come there.

_Miss Hoyd_. Shall I? then, by my troth, I'll get there as fast as I can.--[_To_ NURSE.] His honour desires you'll be so kind as to let us be married to-morrow.

_Nurse_. To-morrow, my dear madam?

_Fash_. Ay, faith, nurse, you may well be surprised at miss's wanting to put it off so long. To-morrow! no, no; 'tis now, this very hour, I would have the ceremony performed.

_Miss Hoyd_. Ecod, with all my heart.

_Nurse_. O mercy! worse and worse!

_Fash._ Yes, sweet nurse, now and privately; for all things being signed and sealed, why should Sir Tunbelly make us stay a week for a wedding-dinner?

_Nurse._ But if you should be married now, what will you do when Sir Tunbelly calls for you to be married?

_Miss Hoyd._ Why then we will be married again.

_Nurse._ What twice, my child?

_Miss Hoyd._ Ecod, I don't care how often I'm married, not I.

_Nurse._ Well, I'm such a tender-hearted fool, I find I can refuse you nothing. So you shall e'en follow your own inventions.

_Miss Hoyd._ Shall I? O Lord, I could leap over the moon!

_Fash._ Dear nurse, this goodness of yours shall be still more rewarded. But now you must employ your power with the chaplain, that he may do this friendly office too, and then we shall be all happy. Do you think you can prevail with him?

_Nurse._ Prevail with him! or he shall never prevail with me, I can tell him that.

_Fash._ I'm glad to hear it; however, to strengthen your interest with him, you may let him know I have several fat livings in my gift, and that the first that falls shall be in your disposal.

_Nurse._ Nay, then, I'll make him marry more folks than one, I'll promise him!

_Miss Hoyd._ Faith, do, nurse, make him marry you too; I'm sure he'll do't for a fat living.

_Fash._ Well, nurse, while you go and settle matters with him, your lady and I will go and take a walk in the garden.-- [_Exit_ NURSE.] Come, madam, dare you venture yourself alone with me? [_Takes_ MISS HOYDEN _by the hand.]

Miss Hoyd._ Oh dear, yes, sir; I don't think you'll do anythink to me, I need be afraid on. [_Exeunt._]

SCENE II.--AMANDA's _Dressing-room._ _Enter_ AMANDA _followed by her_ MAID.

_Maid._ If you please, madam, only to say whether you'll have me buy them or not?

_Aman._ Yes--no--Go, teaser; I care not what you do.

Pr'ythee, leave me. [_Exit_ MAID.]

_Enter_ BERINTHIA.

_Ber._ What, in the name of Jove, is the matter with you?

_Aman._ The matter, Berinthia! I'm almost mad; I'm plagued to death.

_Ber._ Who is it that plagues you?

_Aman._ Who do you think should plague a wife but her husband?

_Ber._ O, ho! is it come to that?--We shall have you wish yourself a widow, by-and-by.

_Aman._ Would I were anything but what I am! A base, ungrateful man, to use me thus!

_Ber._ What, has he given you fresh reason to suspect his wandering?

_Aman._ Every hour gives me reason.

_Ber._ And yet, Amanda, you perhaps at this moment cause in another's breast the same tormenting doubts and jealousies which you feel so sensibly yourself.

_Aman._ Heaven knows I would not.

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A Trip to Scarborough; and, The Critic Part 6 summary

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