The Fine Lady's Airs (1709) - Part 13
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Part 13

Mrs. _Lov._ In earnest, Madam! pray what have we been doing all this while.

_Nick._ Doing, _Precious_, does the chatt'ring over a few Words by her Ladyship's spruce Footman, in his fine Head o' Hair signify any thing; don't let your Faith intoxicate you neither.

Mrs. _Lov._ No, _Precious_, but the chattering over a few Words by a spruce Parson, in his fine Head o' Hair, which I took care to provide, and put into her Ladyship's Livery, does signifie somewhat.

_Nick._ Ha!

La. _Rod._ What Cousin, have you depriv'd me of my Lover?

Mrs. _Lov._ I knew your Ladyship had a much superiour Aim, but my Ambition soars no higher than being an honest Citizen's Wife.

_Nick._ Don't it so, Mrs. _Ambush_? Methinks you ha' soar'd prodigiously in that; do you imagine the Ladies of _Billiter-Lane_, St. _Mary-Ax_, and _French-Ordinary-Court_ will think you their equal.

La. _Rod._ I must tell you, Mr. _Nicknack_, you have marry'd a Gentlewoman, whose Education equals the best; her Wit and Breeding will refine your City.

_Nick._ Will her Wit and Breeding new furnish my House, or buy a Thousand Pound Stock in the _Hollow-Blade-Company_. [_To Mrs._ Lov.] Well, Madam, since you have plaid me a t'other end o'the Town Trick, I shall prove a t'other end o'the Town Husband, and have nothing to say to you when I can get any body else.

Mrs. _Lov._ I then, Sir, shall prove a t'other end o'the Town Wife, and find a great many Persons that shall have a great deal to say to me.

Sir _Har._ [_Aside to Mrs._ Lov.] Have you kept the Secret, Madam?

Mrs. _Lov._ No, Sir _Harry_, But you'll be oblig'd to me to keep another Secret, that you endeavour'd to debauch me.

Sir _Har._ You gave me such Hopes, Madam, that you'll keep that for your own Reputation. [_To_ Nick.] Your pardon, Sir, for whispering your Lady.

_Nick._ Sir, I have more Manners than to be jealous, especially of what I don't care two pinches of Snuff for.

_Enter Servant._

_Ser._ Madam, _Major Bramble_, and his Lady.

La. _Rod._ _Major Bramble_, and his Lady!

Sir _Har._ Oh! my Lady _Toss-up_, Madam, has marry'd the _Major_; I met 'em coming from _Covent-Garden-Church_, with Five hundred Boys after 'em.

_Enter_ Bramble, _and Lady_ Toss-up.

_Bram._ Hearing, Madam, your Ladyship had almost engag'd your self, I was resolv'd to lay aside all Animosities, and let you know, I have taken to Wife the most incomparable Lady _Toss-up_.

La. _Toss._ And that your Ladyship might not engross the whole s.e.x, I receiv'd the _Major_, to let you know I have room for one Lover.

La. _Rod._ I never knew a more surprizing Couple, such a Conjunction's Policy indeed; State-Matches never have regard to Faces.

[_Noise without._] Bring 'em along, bring 'em along.

_Enter_ Constable, _and others, with_ Totty, Shrimp, _and_ Knapsack.

_Col._ What means this Intrusion?

_Con._ Is Sir _Harry Sprightly_ here?

Sir _Har._ I am he.

_Con._ An't please your Baronetship, searching some Houses of ill repute, in one of 'em we found these three Gentlemen, [_pointing to_ Totty _and_ Knapsack.] with three Women; and searching a little further, under a fat Wh.o.r.es Petticoats, we found this little Gentleman, [_Pointing to_ Shrimp.]

but saying they belong'd to your Honour, we brought 'em hither before we went to the Justice.

Sir _Har_. They do belong to me; here's a Crown for you to drink; pray leave us.

_Tot_. If you be Sir _Harry Sprightly_, my Grand-Mother will be very angry when she hears how these Fellows ha' daub'd my Cloaths.

Sir _Har_. [_To_ Shrimp.] Was that the Place I order'd you to carry the Boy to.

_Tot_. Boy, the Gentlewoman I ha' been with, did'n't think mee a Boy.

Sir _Har_. What Gentlewoman?

_Tot_. Why, we ha been at the Tavern, where we drunk pure Sack, and saw Madam _Betty_, the Orange-Lady; and afterwards we went to fine Madam _Over-done_'s stately Lodgings in _Vinegar-Yard_, where we ha' been as merry as my Grand-Mother, when she gets drunk with _Plague-Water_. [_Feels his Pockets._] Ah Lard! Mr. _Shrimp_, where's my Hundred Pound Bill?

Sir _Har_. The Lady you ha' been with, I guess, has pickt your Pocket, and these Fellows are to share it with her.

_Tot_. She pick my Pocket! why she had a Furbelow-Scarf on.

Sir _Har_. Come, come, I'll reimburse you, and send you back into the Country; you are not sharp enough for the Profession design'd you; where you may boast among your ignorant Acquaintance, that you have a perfect Knowledge o' the Town, for you have met with two very great Rogues, got drunk at a Tavern, been at a common Brothel, and have had your Pocket pickt of a Hundred Pounds. [_To_ Knapsack.] For you, Friend, the _Collonel_ will take care of you; [_To_ Shrimp.] and for you, Rascal----

_Bram_. I profess, Sir _Harry_, a Couple of promising Youths; a Boy shou'd n't be trusted with so much Money; these Persons have seen the World, and know how to employ it----Gentlemen, if your Masters discard you, I'll entertain you. [_Aside_.] I find by their Phis'nomies they'll be rising Men; and tho' they came sneaking into the World, like other People, and paid a Tax for their Births, they'll go out of it a more sublime way, and cheat the Church of their Burials.

_Col_. Punish'd they shall be, but 'tis now unseasonable; this Day I'd wish an universal _Jubilee_----What say you to a Dance, good People, my Lady's Servants are all musical.

_A DANCE._

Col. _The Wav'ring Nymph, with Pride and Envy sir'd, Ranges the World, to be by all admir'd; Thro' distant Courts, and Climes, she bears her way, And like the Sun, wou'd course 'em in a Day; At length Fatigu'd, she finds those Trifles vain, Meer empty Joys, repeated o'er again: But when by Nature urg'd, weak Fancy fails, And Reason dictating, sound Sense prevails; Wisely she takes the Lover to her Arms, And owns her self subdu'd by Love's more potent Charms._

The EPILOGUE,

Spoken by Mrs. _Bradshaw_.

_Poets of late so scurrilous are grown, Instead of Courting, they abuse the Town: And when an_ Epilogue _entirely pleases, In thundering Jests, it takes the House to pieces; The_ Pit _smiles when the_ Gallery_'s misus'd, The_ Gallery _sn.i.g.g.e.rs when the_ Pit_'s abus'd_; Side-Boxes _wou'd with Ladies Foibles play, } But they themselves stand Buff to all we say, } For nothing strikes them Dead, but_--Please to pay: } _The_ Upper Regions _angry if pa.s.s'd by; But when some wond'rous_ Joke _shall thither fly._ Faith, _Jack_, here's Sense and Learning in this Play, We'll make our Ladies come the _Poet's_ Day.

_This Author wou'd by gentler Means persuade you, And rather sooth your Follies than degrade you.

Parties may rail, and bully Courtiers Graces, But fawning, well-tim'd Ballads, shou'd get_ Poets _Places.

Your Absence lately, how we all have mourn'd; Some pray'd, some fasted too, till you return'd: But now those melancholly Days retire, And eager Wit restrain'd, darts fiercer Fire: Favours unlimited we hope you'll grant us, And not let dear-bought_ Foreigners _supplant us.

This_ PLAY, _our Author hopes, may please the Town, } Not that He claims a Merit of his own,_ } But half our_ Comick Bards _are dead and gone. } Things scarce attainable more nice appear_; Coffee _was scarce a Treat, till very dear.

To raise his Genius, with some pains he strove, As we in Acting shou'd each Day improve.

But as Whims only seem to please this Age, } If Wit and Humour won't your Hearts engage,_ } We'll have a Moving-Picture on the Stage. }

_F I N I S._