THE LADY OF PLEASURE, A COMEDY: BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
SIR THOMAS BORNEWELL expostulates with his Lady on her extravagance and love of pleasure.
BORNEWELL. ARETINA, his lady.
Are. I am angry with myself,
To be so miserably restrain'd in things,
Wherein it doth concern your love and honour
To see me satisfied.
Dost thou accuse me? have I not obey'd All thy desires? against mine own opinion Quitted the country, and removed the hope Of our return, by sale of that fair lordship We lived in? changed a calm and retired life For this wild town, compos'd of noise and charge? Are. What charge, more than is necessary For a lady of my birth and education?
Bor. I am not ignorant how much nobility
Flows in your blood; your kinsmen great and powerful
I' the state; but with this, lose not you [the]
Of being my wife. I shall be studious,
Madam, to give the dignity of your birth
All the best ornaments which become my
But would not flatter it, to ruin both,
And be the fable of the town, to teach
Other men wit by loss of mine, employ'd
To serve your vast expenses.
Brought in the balance? So, sir! Bor. Though you weigh
Me in a partial scale, my heart is honest,
And must take liberty to think you have
Obey'd no modest counsel, to affect,
Nay, study ways of pride and costly ceremony;
Your change of gaudy furniture, and pictures
Of this Italian master, and that Dutchman
Your mighty looking-glasses, like artillery,
Brought home on engines; the superfluous plate,
Antique and novel; vanities of tires;
Fourscore-pound suppers for my lord, your kinsman,
Banquets for t' other lady aunt, and cousins,
And perfumes that exceed all; train of servants,
To stifle us at home, and show abroad
More motley than the French, or the Venetian,
About your coach, whose rude postilion
Must pester every narrow lane, till passengers
And tradesmen curse your choking up their stalls,
And common cries pursue your ladyship
For hindering of their market.
Are. Have you done, sir?
Bor. I could accuse the gaiety of your wardrobe,
And prodigal embroideries, under which,
Rich satins, plushes, cloth of silver, dare
Not show their own complexions; your jewels,
Able to burn out the spectators' eyes,
And show like bonfires on you by the tapers:
Something might here be spar'd, with safety of
Your birth and honour, since the truest wealth
Shines from the soul, and draws up just admirers.
I could urge something more.
Are. Pray do, I like
Your homily of thrift.
Bor. I could wish, madam,
You would not game so much.
Are. A gamester too!
Bor. But are not come to that acquaintance yet, Should teach you skill enough to raise your profit. You look not through the subtilty of cards,
And mysteries of dice; nor can you save
Charge with the box, buy petticoats and pearls,
And keep your family by the precious income;
Nor do I wish you should: my poorest servant
Shall not upbraid my tables, nor his hire,
Purchas'd beneath my honour. You make play
Not a pastime, but a tyranny, and vex
Yourself and my estate by it.
Bor. Another game you have, which consumes more
Your fame than purse; your revels in the night,
Your meetings, call'd the Ball, to which repair,
As to the court of pleasure, all your gallants
And ladies, thither bound by a subpoena
Of Venus, and small Cupid's high displeasure;
"Tis but the Family of Love, translated
Into more costly sin! there was a play on it,
And had the poet not been bribed to a modest
Expression of your antic gambols in 't,
Some darks had been discover'd, and the deeds too:
In time he may repent, and make some blush,
To see the second part danced on the stage.
My thoughts acquit you for dishonouring me
By any foul act; but the virtuous know,
'Tis not enough to clear ourselves, but the
Suspicions of our shame.
Are. Have you concluded
Your lecture?
Bor. I have done; and howsoever
My language may appear to you, it carries
No other than my fair and just intent
To your delights, without curb to their modest,
And noble freedom.
Are. I'll not be so tedious
In my reply; but, without art or elegance,
Assure you I keep still my first opinion;
And though you veil your avaricious meaning
With handsome names of modesty and thrift,
I find you would intrench and wound the liberty
I was born with. Were my desires unprivileged
By example, while my judgment thought them fit,
You ought not to oppose; but when the practice
And tract of every honourable lady
Authorize me, I take it great injustice
To have my pleasures circumscribed, and taught me.
[This dialogue is in the very spirit of the recriminating scenes between Lord and Lady Townley in the Provoked Husband is difficult to believe, but it must have been Vanbrugh's prototype.]
THE GENTLEMAN OF VENICE,
A TRAGI-COMEDY:
BY THE SAME AUTHOR.
GIOVANNI, of noble extraction, but brought up a gardener, and ignorant of any greater birth, loves BELLAURA, a princess; and is beloved again.
BELLAURA. GIOVANNI.
Bell. How now, Giovanni?
What, with a sword! You were not us'd to appear Thus arm'd; your weapon is a spade, I take it. Gio. It did become my late profession, madam; But I am chang'd
Gio. It is a title, madam, will much grace me;
And with the best collection of my thoughts,
I have ambition to the wars.
Gio. Oh, 'tis a brave profession, and rewards
All loss we meet, with double weight in glory,
A calling princes still are proud to own;
And some do willingly forget their crowns
To be commanded: 'tis the spring of all
We here entitle fame to; emperors,
And all degrees of honours, owing all
Their names to this employment: in her vast
And circular embraces holding kings,
And making them; and yet so kind, as not
To exclude such private things as I, who may
Learn and commence in her great arts.-My life
Hath been too useless to myself and country;
'Tis time I should employ it to deserve
A name within their registry, that bring
The wealth, the harvest home of well-bought honour.
Through all this revolution, Giovanni;
'Tis something else hath wrought this violent change.
Pray let me be of counsel with your thoughts,
And know the serious motive: come, be clear.
I am no enemy, and can assist,
Where I allow the cause.
Gio. You may be angry,
Madam, and chide it as a saucy pride
In me to name or look at honour; nor
Can I but know what small addition
Is my unskilful arm to aid a country.
Bell. I may therefore justly suspect there is
Something of other force, that moves you to
The wars; enlarge my knowledge with the secret.
Gio. At this command I open my heart, madam.
I must confess there is another cause,
Which I dare not, in [my] obedience,
Obscure, since you will call it forth ;—and yet
I know you will laugh at me—
Become my breeding, Giovanni— Gio. Then
Know, madam, I'm in love.
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