Three Hours after Marriage Part 10

[_Gives a letter to Fossile and exit._]

_Fossile._ [_reads_]

'Madam, you have jilted me. What I gave you cost me dear; what you might have given me, would have cost you nothing. You shall use my next present with more respect. I presented you a fine snuff-box; you gave it to that c.o.xcomb Underplot, and Underplot gave it to my wife. Judge of my surprise.

'Freeman.'

A fine circulation of a snuff-box! in time I shall have the rarest of my sh.e.l.ls set off with gold hinges, to make presents to all the fops about town. My _Conchae Veneris_; and perhaps, even my _Nautilus_.

_A knocking at the door. Enter an old woman._

_Old Wom._ Can I speak with your good mistress, honest friend?

_Fos._ No, she's busy.

_Old Wom._ Madam Wyburn presents her service and has sent this letter.

[_Exit._

_Fossile._ [_reads_]

'Being taken up with waiting upon merchants ladies this morning, I have sent to acquaint you, my dear sweet Mrs. Townley, that the alderman agrees to every thing but putting away his wife, which he says is not decent at that end of the town. He desires a meeting this evening.'

Postscript.

'He does not like the grocer's wife at all.'

Bless me! what a libidinous age we live in! neither his own wife! nor the grocer's wife! Will people like n.o.body's wife but mine!

[_Knocking at the door. Enter footman, gives a letter, and exit._]

_Enter another footman gives a letter, and exit._

_Foss._ [_reads_]

'Sincerely, madam, I cannot spare that sum; especially in monthly payments. My good friend and neighbour Pinch, a quiet sober man, is content to go a third part, only for leave to visit upon sabbath days.

'Habakkuk Plumb.'

Well, frugallity is laudable even in iniquity! Now for this other.

_Opens the second letter._

_Foss._ [_reads_]

'Madam, I can't make you rich, but I can make you immortal.

Verses on Mrs. Susanna Townley, in the front box dress'd in green.

In you the beauties of the spring are seen, Your cheeks are roses, and your dress is green.

A poor dog of a poet! I fear him not.

_Enter a ragged fellow with a letter._

_Foot._ My master is at present under a cloud----He begs you will deliver this letter to your lady.

[_Exit._

_Foss._ [_reads_]

'I am reduced by your favours to ask the thing I formerly deny'd; that you would entertain me as a husband, who can no longer keep you as a mistress.

'Charles Bat.'

Why did I part with this fellow? This was a proposal indeed, to make both me and himself happy at once! He shall have her, and a twelve-month's fees into the bargain. Where shall I find him?--Why was the mistress of all mankind unknown to thee alone? Why is nature so dark in our greatest concerns? Why are there no external symptoms of defloration, nor any pathognomick of the loss of virginity but a big belly? Why has not lewdness its tokens like the plague? Why must a man know rain by the aking of his corns, and have no prognostick of what is of infinitely greater moment, cuckoldom? Or if there are any marks of chast.i.ty, why is the enquiry allowed only to Turks and Jews, and denyed to Christians? O Townley, Townley! once to me the fragrant rose; now aloes, wormwood and snake-root! but I must not be seen.

_As Townley and Sarsnet enter, Fossile sneaks off._

_Town._ Sarsnet, we are betray'd. I have discovered my husband posted at the door in Hugh's livery, he has intercepted all my letters. I immediately writ this, which is the only thing that can bring us off.

Run this moment to Plotwell, get him to copy it, and send it directed to me by his own servant with the utmost expedition. He is now at the chocolate-house in the next street.

_Sars._ I fly, madam; but how will you disengage yourself from the affair with Underplot?

_Town._ Leave it to me. Though he wants sense, he's handsome, and I like the fellow; and if he is lucky enough to come in my husband's absence.----But prithee Sa.r.s.enet make haste.

[_Exit Townley and Sa.r.s.enet, upon which Fossile re-enters, to him Underplot._]

_Underp._ Harke'e, friend. I never talk with one of your coat, but I first tip him.

_Foss._ Behold the lucre of a pimp! Between the pox abroad, and my plague at home, I find a man may never want fees. [_aside._] Your honour's commands, I pray. I long to serve you.

_Underp._ Ah, boy! thou hast a rare mistress for vails. Come I know thou art a sly dog; can'st thou introduce me to her for a moment's conversation?

_Foss._ Impossible.

_Underp._ What, still impossible?

[_Gives more money._

_Foss._ Still impossible.