(Aside.)

Ped. Fie Don Felix! No sooner rid of one Broil, but you are commencing another.—To assault a Lady with a naked Sword, derogates much from the Character of a Gentleman, I assure you.

Fel. (Counterfeits Drunkeness) Who, I assault a Lady —upon Honour the Lady assaulted me, Sir; and would have seiz'd this Body Politick upon the King's Highway—let her come out, and deny it if she can—pray, Sir, command the Door to be open'd, and let her prove me a Lyar if she knows how—I have been drinking right French Claret, Sir, but I love my own Country for all that.

Ped. Ay, ay, who doubts it, Sir?—Open the Door, Violante, and let the Lady come out.—Come, I warrant thee, he shan't hurt her.

Fel. Ay, now which Way will she come off?

Vio. (Unlocks the Door) Come forth, Madam, none shall dare to touch your Veil—I'll convey you out with Safety, or lose my Life—I hope she understands me. (Aside.)

Enter Isabella veil'd, and crosses the Stage.

Isab. Excellent Girl!

[Exit.

Fel. The Devil! A Woman! I'll see if she be really so.

[Offers to follow her.

Ped. (Draws) Not a Step, Sir, till the Lady be past your Recovery—I never suffer the Laws of Hospitality to be violated in my House, Sir.—I'll keep Don Felix here till you see her safe out, Violante.

Vol. Get clear of my Father, and follow me to the Terriero de passa, where all Mistakes shall be rectified. (Aside to Felix.)

[Exit Violante.

Ped. Come, Sir, you and I will take a Pipe and a Bottle together.

Fel. Damn your Pipe, Sir, I won't smoke—I hate Tobacco—Nor I, I, I, I won't drink, Sir—No, nor I won't stay, neither, and how will you help yourself?

Ped. As to smoking, or drinking, you have your Liberty, but you shall stay, Sir.

[Gets between him and the Door, Felix strikes up his Heels and Exit.

Fel. Shall I so, Sir—But I tell you, old Gentleman, I am in haste to be married—And so God be with you.

Ped. Go to the Devil—In haste to get married, quotha, thou art in a fine Condition to get married, truly!

Enter a Servant.

Ser. Here's Don Lopez de Pementel to wait on you Senior.

Ped. What the Devil does he want? Bring him up, he's in pursuit of his Son, I suppose.

Enter Don Lopez.

Lop. I am glad to find you at Home, Don Pedro, I was told you was seen upon the Road to—this Afternoon.

Ped. That might be, my Lord; but I had the Misfortune to break the Wheel of my Chariot, which oblig'd me to return—What is your Pleasure with me, my Lord?

Lop. I am inform'd that my Daughter is in your House, Don Pedro.

Ped. That's more than I know, my Lord; but here was your Son just now as drunk as an Emperor.

Lop. My Son drunk! I never saw him drunk in my Life; where is he, pray, Sir?

Ped. Gone to be married.

Lop. Married! To whom? I don't know that he courted any Body.

Ped. Nay, I know nothing of that—Within there! (Enter Servant.) bid my Daughter come hither, she'll tell you another Story, my Lord.

Ser. She's gone out in a Chair, Sir.

Ped. Out in a Chair! What do you mean, Sir?

Ser. As I say, Sir; and Donna Isabella went in another just before her.

Ser. And Don Felix follow'd in another; I over-heard them all bid the Chairs go to Terriero de passa.

Ped. Ha! What Business has my Daughter there? I am confounded, and know not what to think.—Within there.

[Exit.

Lop. My Heart misgives me plaguily—Call me an Alguazil, I'll pursue them strait.

SCENE changes to the Street before Don Pedro's House.

Enter Lissardo.

Liss. I wish I cou'd see Flora—Methinks I have an hankering Kindness after the Slut—We must be reconcil'd.

Enter Gibby.

Gibb. Aw my Sol, Sir, but Ise blithe to find yee here now.

Liss. Ha! Brother! Give me thy Hand, Boy.

Gib. Not se sast, se ye me—Brether me ne Brethers, I scorn a Lyar as muckle as a Theife, se ye now, and yee must gang intul this House with me, and justifie to Donna Violante's Face, that she was the Lady that gang'd in here this Morn, se yee me, or the Deel ha my Sol, Sir, but ye and I shall be twa Folks.

Liss. Justify it to Donna Violante's Face, quotha, for what? Sure you don't know what you say.

Gib. Troth de I, Sir, as weel as ye dee; therefore come along, and mak no meer Words about it.

[Knocks hastily at the Door.

Liss. Why, what the Devil do you mean? Don't you consider you are in Portugal? Is the Fellow mad?

Gib. Fallow! Ise none of your Fallow, Sir, and gin this Place were Hell, id gar ye dee me Justice, (Liss. going) nay, the Deel a Feet ye gang.

[Lays hold of him, and knocks again.

Enter Don Pedro.

Ped. How now! what makes you knock so loud?

Gib. Gin this be Don Pedro's House, Sir, I wou'd speak with Donna Violante, his Daughter.

Liss. Ha! Don Pedro himself! I wish I were fairly off. (Aside.)

Ped. Ha! what is it you want with my Daughter, pray?

Gib. An she be your Doughter, and lik yer Honour, command her to come out, and answer for herself now, and either justify or disprove what this Child told me this Morn.

Liss. So, here will be a fine Piece of Work. (Aside.)

Ped. Why, what did he tell you ha?

Gib. Be me Sol, Sir, Ise tell you aw the Truth; my Master got a pratty Lady upon the how de yee call't—Passa here at Five this Morn, and he gar me watch her heam—And in Troth I lodg'd her here, and meeting this ill-favoured Theife, se ye me, I spierd wha she was—And he told me her Name was Donna Violante, Don Pedro de Mendosa's Daughter.

Ped. Ha! My Daughter with a Man abroad at Five in the Morning: Death, Hell, and Furies; by St. Anthony I'm undone. (Stamps.)

Gib. Wunds, Sir, ye put yer Saint intul bony Company.

Ped. Who is your Master, you Dog you? Adsheart, I shall be trick'd of my Daughter, and my Money too, that's worst of all.

Gib. Ye Dog you! 'Sblead, Sir don't call Names—I won't tell you wa my Master is, se ye me now.

Ped. And who are you, Rascal, that knows my Daughter so well? Ha!

[Holds up his Cane.

Liss. What shall I say to make him give this Scots Dog a good beating? (Aside.) I, know your Daughter, Senior? Not I, I never saw your Daughter in all my Life.

Gib. (Knocks him down with his Fist.) Deel ha my Sol, Sar, gin ye get no your Carich for that Lye now.

Pedro. What hoa! Where are all my Servants? (Enter Servants on one Side, Colonel, Felix, Isabella, and Violante on the other Side.) Raise the House in pursuit of my Daughter.

Serv. Here she comes, Senior.

Col. Hey Day! What is here to do?

Gib. This is the Loon lik Tik, and lik yer Honor, that sent me Heam with a Lye this Morn.

Col. Come, 'tis all well, Gibby, let him rise.

Pedro. I am Thunder-struck—and have not Power to speak one Word.

Fel. This is a day of Jubilee, Lissardo; no quarrelling with him this Day.

Liss. A Pox take his Fists.—Egad, these Britons are but a Word and a Blow.

Enter Don Lopez.

Lop. So, have I found you, Daughter; then you have not hang'd yourself yet, I see.

Col. But she is married, my Lord.

Lop. Married! Zounds, to whom?

Col. Even to your humble Servant, my Lord. If you please to give us your Blessing. (Kneels.)

Lop. Why, hark ye, Mistress, are you really married?

Isab. Really so, my Lord.

Lop. And who are you, Sir?

Col. An honest North Briton by Birth, and a Colonel by Commission, my Lord.

Lop. A Heretick! The Devil! (Holds up his Hands.)

Pedro. She has plaid you a slippery Trick indeed, my Lord—Well, my Girl, thou hast been to see thy Friend married.—Next Week thou shalt have a better Husband, my Dear. (To Violante.)

Fel. Next Week is a little too soon, Sir, I hope to live longer than that.

Pedro. What do you mean, Sir? You have not made a Rib of my Daughter too, have you?

Vio. Indeed but he has, Sir; I know not how, but he took me in an unguarded Minute,—when my Thoughts were not over strong for a Nunnery, Father.

Lop. Your Daughter has play'd you a slippery Trick too, Senior.

Pedro. But your Son shall be never the better for't, my Lord; her twenty Thousand Pounds was left on certain Conditions, and I'll not part with a Shilling.

Lop. But we have a certain Thing call'd Law, shall make you do Justice, Sir.

Pedro. Well, we'll try that,—my Lord, much good may it do you with your Daughter-in Law.

[Exit.

Lop. I wish you much Joy of your Rib.

[Exit.

Enter Frederick.

Fel. Frederick, welcome!—I sent for thee to be Witness of my good Fortune, and make one in a Country Dance.

Fred. Your Messenger has told me all, and I sincerely share in all your Happiness.

Col. To the Right about, Frederick, wish thy Friend Joy.

Fred. I do with all my Soul;—and, Madam, I congratulate your Deliverance.—Your Suspicions are clear'd now, I hope, Felix.

Fel. They are, and I heartily ask the Colonel Pardon, and wish him happy with my Sister; for Love has taught me to know, that every Man's Happiness consists in chusing for himself.

Liss. After that Rule I fix here. (To Flora.)

Flo. That's your Mistake; I prefer my Lady's Service, and turn you over to her that pleaded Right and Title to you to Day.

Liss. Chuse, proud Fool; I shan't ask you twice.

Gib. What say you now, Lass; will ye ge yer Maidenhead to poor Gibby.—What say you, will ye dance the Reel of Bogye with me?

Inis. That I may not leave my Lady,—I take you at your Word,—and tho' our Wooing has been short, I'll by her Example love you dearly.

Music plays.

Fel. Hark! I hear the Musick; somebody has done us the Favour to send them; call them in.

A Country Dance.

Gib. Waunds, this is bonny Musick.—How caw ye that Thing that ye pinch by the Craig, and tickle the Weam, ont make it cry Grum, Grum.

Fred. Oh! that's a Guittar, Gibby.

Fel. Now, my Violante, I shall proclaim thy Vertues to the World.

No more let us thy Sex's Conduct blame,
Since thou'rt a Proof to their eternal Fame,
That Man has no Advantage but the Name.

EPILOGUE.

Spoken by Miss SANTLOW.

Written by MR. PHILIPS.

Custom with all our Modern Laws combin'd,
Has given such Power despotic to Mankind,
That We have only so much Vertue now,
As they are pleas'd in favour to allow.
Thus like Mechanic Work we're us'd with Scorn,
And wound up only, for a present Turn;
Some are for having our whole Sex enslav'd,
Affirming we've no Souls, 2 and can't be sav'd;
But were the Women all of my Opinion,
We'd soon shake off this false usurp'd Dominion;
We'd make the Tyrants own, that we cou'd prove,
As fit for other Business as for Love.
Lord! What Prerogative might we obtain,
Could we from Yielding, a few Months refrain!
How fondly wou'd our dang'ling Lovers doat!
What homage wou'd be paid to Petticoat!
'Twou'd be a Jest to see the Change of Fate,
How we might all of Politicks debate;
Promise and Swear, what we ne'er meant to do,
And what's still harder, Keep our Secrets too.
Ay Marry! Keep a Secret, says a Beau,
And sneers at some ill-natur'd Wit below;
But faith, if we shou'd tell but half we know,
There's many a spruce young Fellow in this Place,
Would never more presume to show his Face;
Women are not so weak, whate'er Men prate;
How many tip top Beaus have had the Fate,
T'enjoy from Mamma's Secrets their Estate.
Who, if her early Folly had made known,
Had rid behind the Coach, that's now their own.
But here, the wond'rous Secret you discover;
A Lady ventures for a Friend,—a Lover.
Prodigious. For my Part I frankly own,
I'ad spoiled the Wonder, and the Woman shown.

1. Fornication.

2. Alluding to an ironical Pamphlet tending to prove that Women had no Souls.

Source:


THE WORKS OF THE CELEBRATED
Mrs. CENTLIVRE.
VOLUME THE THIRD
LONDON:

Printed for J. Knapton, C. Hitch and L. Hawes, J. and R. Tonson, S. Crowder and Co., W. Bathoe, T. Lownds, T. Caslon and G. Kearsly.

M.DCC.LXI.

[The end of The Wonder: A Woman keeps a Secret by Susanna Centlivre]

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