MRS FORE. What's the matter, husband?

FORE. 'Tis not convenient to tell you now. Mr Scandal, heav'n keep us all in our senses--I fear there is a contagious frenzy abroad.

How does Valentine?

SCAN. Oh, I hope he will do well again. I have a message from him to your niece Angelica.

FORE. I think she has not returned since she went abroad with Sir Sampson. Nurse, why are you not gone?

SCENE VIII.

FORESIGHT, SCANDAL, MRS FORESIGHT, BEN.

MRS FORE. Here's Mr Benjamin, he can tell us if his father be come home.

BEN. Who? Father? Ay, he's come home with a vengeance.

MRS FORE. Why, what's the matter?

BEN. Matter! Why, he's mad.

FORE. Mercy on us, I was afraid of this. And there's the handsome young woman, she, as they say, brother Val went mad for, she's mad too, I think.

FORE. Oh, my poor niece, my poor niece, is she gone too? Well, I shall run mad next.

MRS FORE. Well, but how mad? How d'ye mean?

BEN. Nay, I'll give you leave to guess. I'll undertake to make a voyage to Antegoa--no, hold; I mayn't say so, neither. But I'll sail as far as Leghorn and back again before you shall guess at the matter, and do nothing else. Mess, you may take in all the points of the compa.s.s, and not hit right.

MRS FORE. Your experiment will take up a little too much time.

BEN. Why, then, I'll tell you; there's a new wedding upon the stocks, and they two are a-going to be married to rights.

SCAN. Who?

BEN. Why, father and--the young woman. I can't hit of her name.

SCAN. Angelica?

BEN. Ay, the same.

MRS FORE. Sir Sampson and Angelica? Impossible!

BEN. That may be--but I'm sure it is as I tell you.

SCAN. 'Sdeath, it's a jest. I can't believe it.

BEN. Look you, friend, it's nothing to me whether you believe it or no. What I say is true, d'ye see, they are married, or just going to be married, I know not which.

FORE. Well, but they are not mad, that is, not lunatic?

BEN. I don't know what you may call madness. But she's mad for a husband, and he's horn mad, I think, or they'd ne'er make a match together. Here they come.

SCENE IX.

[To them] SIR SAMPSON, ANGELICA, BUCKRAM.

SIR SAMP. Where is this old soothsayer, this uncle of mine elect?

Aha, old Foresight, Uncle Foresight, wish me joy, Uncle Foresight, double joy, both as uncle and astrologer; here's a conjunction that was not foretold in all your Ephemeris. The brightest star in the blue firmament--IS SHOT FROM ABOVE, IN A JELLY OF LOVE, and so forth; and I'm lord of the ascendant. Odd, you're an old fellow, Foresight; uncle, I mean, a very old fellow, Uncle Foresight: and yet you shall live to dance at my wedding; faith and troth, you shall. Odd, we'll have the music of the sphere's for thee, old Lilly, that we will, and thou shalt lead up a dance in Via Lactea.

FORE. I'm thunderstruck! You are not married to my niece?

SIR SAMP. Not absolutely married, uncle; but very near it, within a kiss of the matter, as you see. [Kisses ANGELICA.]

ANG. 'Tis very true, indeed, uncle. I hope you'll be my father, and give me.

SIR SAMP. That he shall, or I'll burn his globes. Body o' me, he shall be thy father, I'll make him thy father, and thou shalt make me a father, and I'll make thee a mother, and we'll beget sons and daughters enough to put the weekly bills out of countenance.

SCAN. Death and h.e.l.l! Where's Valentine?

SCENE X.

SIR SAMPSON, ANGELICA, FORESIGHT, MRS FORESIGHT, BEN, BUCKRAM.

MRS FORE. This is so surprising.

SIR SAMP. How! What does my aunt say? Surprising, aunt? Not at all for a young couple to make a match in winter: not at all. It's a plot to undermine cold weather, and destroy that usurper of a bed called a warming-pan.

MRS FORE. I'm glad to hear you have so much fire in you, Sir Sampson.

BEN. Mess, I fear his fire's little better than tinder; mayhap it will only serve to light up a match for somebody else. The young woman's a handsome young woman, I can't deny it: but, father, if I might be your pilot in this case, you should not marry her. It's just the same thing as if so be you should sail so far as the Straits without provision.

SIR SAMP. Who gave you authority to speak, sirrah? To your element, fish, be mute, fish, and to sea, rule your helm, sirrah, don't direct me.

BEN. Well, well, take you care of your own helm, or you mayn't keep your new vessel steady.

SIR SAMP. Why, you impudent tarpaulin! Sirrah, do you bring your forecastle jests upon your father? But I shall be even with you, I won't give you a groat. Mr Buckram, is the conveyance so worded that nothing can possibly descend to this scoundrel? I would not so much as have him have the prospect of an estate, though there were no way to come to it, but by the North-East Pa.s.sage.

BUCK. Sir, it is drawn according to your directions; there is not the least cranny of the law unstopt.

BEN. Lawyer, I believe there's many a cranny and leak unstopt in your conscience. If so be that one had a pump to your bosom, I believe we should discover a foul hold. They say a witch will sail in a sieve: but I believe the devil would not venture aboard o'

your conscience. And that's for you.

SIR SAMP. Hold your tongue, sirrah. How now, who's here?