The Comedies of William Congreve Part 33

CYNT. Nay, I have known two wits meet, and by the opposition of their wit render themselves as ridiculous as fools. 'Tis an odd game we're going to play at. What think you of drawing stakes, and giving over in time?

MEL. No, hang't, that's not endeavouring to win, because it's possible we may lose; since we have shuffled and cut, let's even turn up trump now.

CYNT. Then I find it's like cards, if either of us have a good hand it is an accident of fortune.

MEL. No, marriage is rather like a game at bowls: fortune indeed makes the match, and the two nearest, and sometimes the two farthest, are together, but the game depends entirely upon judgment.

CYNT. Still it is a game, and consequently one of us must be a loser.

MEL. Not at all; only a friendly trial of skill, and the winnings to be laid out in an entertainment. What's here, the music? Oh, my lord has promised the company a new song; we'll get 'em to give it us by the way.

[_Musicians crossing the stage_.] Pray let us have the favour of you, to practise the song before the company hear it.

SONG.

I.

Cynthia frowns whene'er I woo her, Yet she's vext if I give over; Much she fears I should undo her, But much more to lose her lover: Thus, in doubting, she refuses; And not winning, thus she loses.

II.

Prithee, Cynthia, look behind you, Age and wrinkles will o'ertake you; Then too late desire will find you, When the power must forsake you: Think, O think o' th' sad condition, To be past, yet wish fruition.

MEL. You shall have my thanks below. [_To the musicians_, _they go out_.]

SCENE IV.

[_To them_] SIR PAUL PLYANT _and_ LADY PLYANT.

SIR PAUL. Gadsbud! I am provoked into a fermentation, as my Lady Froth says; was ever the like read of in story?

LADY PLYANT. Sir Paul, have patience, let me alone to rattle him up.

SIR PAUL. Pray, your ladyship, give me leave to be angry. I'll rattle him up, I warrant you, I'll firk him with a _certiorari_.

LADY PLYANT. You firk him, I'll firk him myself; pray, Sir Paul, hold you contented.

CYNT. Bless me, what makes my father in such a pa.s.sion? I never saw him thus before.

SIR PAUL. Hold yourself contented, my Lady Plyant. I find pa.s.sion coming upon me by inflation, and I cannot submit as formerly, therefore give way.

LADY PLYANT. How now! will you be pleased to retire and--

SIR PAUL. No, marry will I not be pleased: I am pleased to be angry, that's my pleasure at this time.

MEL. What can this mean?

LADY PLYANT. Gads my life, the man's distracted; why, how now, who are you? What am I? Slidikins, can't I govern you? What did I marry you for? Am I not to be absolute and uncontrollable? Is it fit a woman of my spirit and conduct should be contradicted in a matter of this concern?

SIR PAUL. It concerns me and only me. Besides, I'm not to be governed at all times. When I am in tranquillity, my Lady Plyant shall command Sir Paul; but when I am provoked to fury, I cannot incorporate with patience and reason: as soon may tigers match with tigers, lambs with lambs, and every creature couple with its foe, as the poet says.

LADY PLYANT. He's hot-headed still! 'Tis in vain to talk to you; but remember I have a curtain-lecture for you, you disobedient, headstrong brute.

SIR PAUL. No, 'tis because I won't be headstrong, because I won't be a brute, and have my head fortified, that I am thus exasperated. But I will protect my honour, and yonder is the violator of my fame.

LADY PLYANT. 'Tis my honour that is concerned, and the violation was intended to me. Your honour! You have none but what is in my keeping, and I can dispose of it when I please: therefore don't provoke me.

SIR PAUL. Hum, gadsbud, she says true. Well, my lady, march on; I will fight under you, then: I am convinced, as far as pa.s.sion will permit.

[LADY PLYANT _and_ SIR PAUL _come up to_ MELLEFONT.]

LADY PLYANT. Inhuman and treacherous--

SIR PAUL. Thou serpent and first tempter of womankind.

CYNT. Bless me! Sir, madam, what mean you?

SIR PAUL. Thy, Thy, come away, Thy; touch him not. Come hither, girl; go not near him, there's nothing but deceit about him. Snakes are in his peruke, and the crocodile of Nilus is in his belly; he will eat thee up alive.

LADY PLYANT. Dishonourable, impudent creature!

MEL. For heav'n's sake, madam, to whom do you direct this language?

LADY PLYANT. Have I behaved myself with all the decorum and nicety befitting the person of Sir Paul's wife? Have I preserved my honour as it were in a snow-house for these three years past? Have I been white and unsullied even by Sir Paul himself?

SIR PAUL. Nay, she has been an invincible wife, even to me; that's the truth on't.

LADY PLYANT. Have I, I say, preserved myself like a fair sheet of paper for you to make a blot upon?

SIR PAUL. And she shall make a simile with any woman in England.

MEL. I am so amazed, I know not what to say.

SIR PAUL. Do you think my daughter, this pretty creature--gadsbud, she's a wife for a cherubim!--do you think her fit for nothing but to be a stalking horse, to stand before you, while you take aim at my wife?

Gadsbud, I was never angry before in my life, and I'll never be appeased again.

MEL. h.e.l.l and d.a.m.nation! This is my aunt; such malice can be engendered nowhere else. [_Aside_.]

LADY PLYANT. Sir Paul, take Cynthia from his sight; leave me to strike him with the remorse of his intended crime.

CYNT. Pray, sir, stay, hear him; I dare affirm he's innocent.

SIR PAUL. Innocent! Why, hark'ee--come hither, Thy--hark'ee, I had it from his aunt, my sister Touchwood. Gadsbud, he does not care a farthing for anything of thee but thy portion. Why, he's in love with my wife. He would have tantalised thee, and made a cuckold of thy poor father, and that would certainly have broke my heart. I'm sure, if ever I should have horns, they would kill me; they would never come kindly--I should die of 'em like a child that was cutting his teeth--I should indeed, Thy--therefore come away; but providence has prevented all, therefore come away when I bid you.

CYNT. I must obey.

SCENE V.