The Way of the World

convinced that I hate Mirabell now? You’ll be no more jealous?

Fainall
Jealous! no⁠—by this kiss⁠—let husbands be jealous, but let the lover still believe; or if he doubt, let it be only to endear his pleasure, and prepare the joy that follows, when he proves his mistress true. But let husbands’ doubts convert to endless jealousy; or if they have belief, let it corrupt to superstition and blind credulity. I am single and will herd no more with ’em. True, I wear the badge, but I’ll disown the order. And since I take my leave of ’em, I care not if I leave ’em a common motto to their common crest.





All husbands must or pain or shame endure;

The wise too jealous are, fools too secure.





Exeunt.


Act IV

Scene I
A room in Lady Wishfort’s house.




Lady Wishfort and Foible.


Lady Wishfort
Is Sir Rowland coming, say’st thou, Foible? And are things in order?


Foible
Yes, madam. I have put wax lights in the sconces, and placed the footmen in a row in the hall, in their best liveries, with the coachman and postillion to fill up the equipage.


Lady Wishfort
Have you pulvilled the coachman and postillion, that they may not stink of the stable when Sir Rowland comes by?


Foible
Yes, madam.


Lady Wishfort
And are the dancers and the music ready, that he may be entertained in all points with correspondence to his passion?


Foible
All is ready, madam.


Lady Wishfort
And⁠—well⁠—and how do I look, Foible?


Foible
Most killing well, madam.


Lady Wishfort
Well, and how shall I receive him? In what figure shall I give his heart the first impression? There is a great deal in the first impression. Shall I sit?⁠—no, I won’t sit⁠—I’ll walk⁠—aye, I’ll walk from the door upon his entrance, and then turn full upon him⁠—no, that will be too sudden. I’ll lie⁠—aye, I’ll lie down⁠—I’ll receive him in my little dressing-room; there’s a couch⁠—yes, yes, I’ll give the first impression on a couch⁠—I won’t lie neither, but loll and lean upon one elbow, with one foot a little dangling off, jogging in a thoughtful way⁠—yes⁠—and then as soon as he appears, start, aye, start and be surprised, and rise to meet him in a pretty disorder⁠—yes⁠—oh, nothing is more alluring than a levee from a couch in some confusion. It shows the foot to advantage, and furnishes with blushes and re-composing airs beyond comparison. Hark! There’s a coach.


Foible
’Tis he, madam.


Lady Wishfort
Oh dear⁠—has my nephew made his addresses to Millamant? I ordered him.


Foible
Sir Wilfull is set in to drinking, madam, in the parlour.


Lady Wishfort
Ods my life, I’ll send him to her. Call her down, Foible; bring her hither. I’ll send him as I go⁠—when they are together, then come to me, Foible, that I may not be too long alone with Sir Rowland.



Exit.



Enter  Mrs. Millamant and  Mrs. Fainall.


Foible
Madam, I stayed here to tell your ladyship that  Mr. Mirabell has waited this half hour for an opportunity to talk with you; though my lady’s orders were to leave you and Sir Wilfull together. Shall I tell  Mr. Mirabell that you are at leisure?


 Mrs. Millamant
No⁠—what would the dear man have? I am thoughtful and would amuse myself⁠—bid him come another time.





There never yet was woman made,

Nor shall, but to be cursed.

Repeating and walking about.




That’s hard!.


 Mrs. Fainall
You are very fond of Sir John Suckling 72 today, Millamant, and the poets.


 Mrs. Millamant
He? Aye, and filthy verses⁠—so I am.


Foible
Sir Wilfull is coming, madam. Shall I send  Mr. Mirabell away?


 Mrs. Millamant
Aye, if you please, Foible, send him away⁠—or send him hither⁠—just as you will, dear Foible.⁠—I think I’ll see him⁠—shall I? Aye, let the wretch come.



Exit Foible.





Thyrsis, a youth of the inspired train. 73

Repeating.




Dear Fainall, entertain Sir Wilfull⁠—thou hast philosophy to undergo a fool; thou art married and hast patience⁠—I would confer with my own thoughts.


 Mrs. Fainall
I am obliged to you that you would make me your proxy in this affair; but I have business of my own.



Enter Sir Wilfull.


 Mrs. Fainall
O Sir Wilfull, you are come at the critical instant. There’s your mistress up to the ears in love and contemplation; pursue your point, now or never.


Sir Wilful
Yes, my aunt will have it so⁠—I would gladly have been encouraged with a bottle or two, because I’m somewhat wary at first, before I am acquainted. This while  Mrs. Millamant walks about repeating to herself. But I hope, after a time, I shall break my mind⁠—that is, upon further acquaintance⁠—so for the present, cousin, I’ll take my leave. If so be you’ll be so kind to make my excuse, I’ll return to my company⁠—


 Mrs. Fainall
Oh, fie, Sir Wilfull! What, you must not be daunted.


Sir Wilful
Daunted? No, that’s not it; it is not so much for that⁠—for if so be that I set on’t I’ll do’t. But only for the present, ’tis sufficient till further acquaintance, that’s all⁠—your servant.


 Mrs. Fainall
Nay, I’ll swear you shall never lose so favourable an opportunity, if I can help it. I’ll leave you together and lock the door.



Exit.


Sir Wilful
Nay, nay, cousin⁠—I have forgot my gloves. What d’ye do?⁠—S’heart, a’has locked the door indeed, I think⁠—nay, cousin Fainall, open the door⁠—pshaw, what a vixen trick is this? Nay, now a has seen me too.⁠—Cousin, I made bold to pass through as it were⁠—I think this door’s enchanted.


 Mrs. Millamant
Repeating.

I prithee spare me, gentle boy,

Press me no more for that slight toy. 74




Sir Wilful
Anan? Cousin, your servant.


 Mrs. Millamant
Repeating.

That foolish trifle of a heart.

Sir Wilfull!



Sir Wilful
Yes⁠—your servant. No offence, I hope, cousin?


 Mrs. Millamant
Repeating.

I swear it will not do its part,

Though thou dost thine, employ’st thy power and art.

Natural, easy Suckling!



Sir Wilful
Anan? Suckling? No such suckling neither, cousin, nor stripling: I thank Heaven I’m no minor.


 Mrs. Millamant
Ah, rustic, ruder than Gothic!


Sir Wilful
Well, well, I shall understand your lingo