# The She-Gallants/Act 3

ACT the Third.
SCENE I.
Frenchman.One, two, tree Story more, begar, and dat be ver vell.
Lad. Dor. Not quite so high, Monsieur, I shan't be able to get into my Chair, nor my Coach; nor come in, or go out at doors, without leaving some of my Head behind me.
Frenchman. Dat be no my fault begar: me no make de shaire, nor de coche, nor de dore: me dress de Head, and me mos show all mine arts. Parbleu, let de dam Bricklaer Englise make de house fit for de Ladies head: me no make de Head for de house.
Lad. Dor. My Head's in your hands, do with it as you please.
Frenchman. Me doe defy de valet de Chambre of de vole Christen Vorld, to ajuste de Commode, ty de Fontange, handle de Petticoate, or put on de Smock begar———
Lad. Dor. You think your self in your own Country, the English Ladies don't give so great Privileges.
Enter Plackett.
Plack. Sir Toby, Madam is coming up: All your Visitants will be here before your Frenchman will have done.
Frenchman. Patience, Patience. Me bot ajoute de Jardiniere, and de Sortis, and put on de Assassinat, and me make done.
Lad. Dor. Pray dispatch.
Frenchman. 'Tis make don: And now, begar, der be no Lady in France nor England more Propre—Parbleu, your Ladyship be de ver beautiful Lady; de Engliss Lady be ver handsom, begar.
Lad. Dor. Your Ten Guinea's are upon the Table.
Frenchman. Ah! Madam—Votre tres humble Valeet—De honour of serving de Engliss Lady, be more dan de profit—[Aside.] Now, begar, me vill go into Hollande, and make de Farce of de Engliss Lady vid deir greate Top-Knot; me have got deir mony, and now me vill laugh at dem vid all mine 'earts. Ha! Ha! Ha![Exit Frenchman.
First Ind. Woman. Pray be pleas'd, Madam, to order us to be paid before Sir Toby comes up.
Second Ind. Woman. We had rather lose our money, than be expos'd to his foul-mouth'd Raillery.
Enter Sir Toby.
| Sir Toby repeating. | Th' adorning thee with so much Art, Is but a barbarous Skill: 'Tis like the poys'ning of a Dart, Too ap't before to kill. |
What! adzooks, always these Pedlars at your Toilette.
Ind. Women. Pedlars! adzooks, no more than your Worship's a Pimp, if you go to that.
​Sir Toby. The Orange Women swear they'll pull you to pieces, since a Note in a Tea-Pot is found more secure, than at the bottom of a Basket of Fruit.
Ind. Women. That's your Worship's quarrel to us: you'd have no body seduc'd but by your self—Pray, Madam, bid Mrs. Plackett pay us.
Lad. Dor. Give them their money—But hark' ye, Mrs. Jannoway, for the future, be sure you bring me right Indian, I abominate your Dutch Trumpery.
Ind. Women. God bless your Honour, we will Madam.
[Exeunt Indian Women with their Bundles.
Lady Dor. Bring Sir Toby a Chair—and wait within call.[Sir Toby sits, then speaks.
Sir Toby. Your Piquette Friend will be here instantly, Madam, according to your direction: He is already so charm'd with your Ladyship, that if you are not merciful in time, his heart will break, quite break; poor thing, he is just at the point of death.
Lad. Dor. 'Tis much for a Lady's Honour to have a Lover die.
Sir Toby. True, Madam; but then let those die you don't care for: Tho' it may be for your Glory to triumph over some, yet for your Pleasure you shou'd be kind to others—And this is the prettiest loving little Rogue—Adzooks 'twere a thousand Pities to let him come to any harm.
Lad. Dor. But suppose he shou'd be one of those modest Fools, (for he is very young, Sir Toby) who tho they are never so much in Love, yet have not the courage to speak out their minds.
Sir Toby. Why suppose he shou'd, why then you must take some opportunity to squeeze him by the hand; or by some sly Insinuation with your eyes, inform him that he need fear nothing. Or what if you shou'd speak first, is any thing more common? Besides, when Women through Decency, as they call it, are silent; and Men through fear, how the Devil shall they ever come together? If you observe your Spark to be bold and undertaking, then indeed you may seem shy; but if he is timorous, and under any awe, you must do something to give ​him Courage, or you spoil all. Come, come, adzooks, the Women of this Age are not to be taught these Lessons.
Lad. Dor. Fy! I blush for the Follies of my Sex.
Sir Toby. Blushing do's infinitely become your Ladyship—Then there is the Secret of Secrets, the Never-failing Elixir of Love———
Lad. Dor. Hold, hold, Sir Toby—may it become my Modesty to hear it?
Sir Toby. Adzooks, I don't know what your Modesty may be; but if 'tis so troublesom, I can hold my Tongue.
Lad. Dor. No, no, speak; you're too well bred, to say any thing you shou'd not.
Sir Toby. Then this mighty Secret is Keeping. The Men naturally love receiving better than paying; and since some great Ladies of late have us'd them to it, it is with great difficulty that they part with their very Halfcrown, or give the poor Chambermaid her Fee.
Lad. Dor. A Woman, and Keep! O hideous!
Sir Toby. Ay, igad, or resolve to lie alone. Why yonder's my Lady Homely, 'tis hard to remember when she was young, and yet her doors are always blockt up with Coaches and Chairs; whil'st in the mean time my Lady Lovely scarce receives a Visit from morning to night, and yet is the most beautiful Woman in Town.
Lad. Dor. And what say you is the Reason of this?
Sir Toby. The Reason is plain: The first gives to her Gallants, what the other reserves for a Portion for a Daughter, or bestows in charitable Uses to the Poor. Besides, it has been always the fashion for great Ladies when they are a little turn'd of their Prime; and your Ladyship is too considerable to be out at any thing that's a fashion.
Lad. Dor. 'Tis true, a Woman of Quality shou'd be in all the Fashions: But pray inform me, how is this Keeping? Do Men of Quality take Money? Or is it by Presents of jewels, and such things?
Sir Toby. Nothing like ready Money, adzooks. A thousand Guinea's in ready Cash, tickles a young Fellow beyond a Jewel ​of twice the value: Not but that a Jewel now and then by the by, is a pretty Provocative; but however a setled Quarteridge is necessary.
Lad. Dor. I protest you are a very Learned Person.
Sir Toby. Besides the standing Pension, there must be an allowance too for Extraordinaries: for Example; for Bills at Court, and publick appearances of that kind. At such times, I say, the Courtiers will give themselves to the Devil for a little money, especially in hard times, when Salaries are ill paid.
Lad. Dor. Sir Toby you have convinc'd me; but yet there remains a main Point to be consider'd, which is, how to impose upon the Town. This Town is a prying malicious place; as long as the Town do's not talk, our Honour is safe; and as long as our Honour is safe, there's no harm done: for 'tis a receiv'd Maxim among us Ladies, That 'tis the Talk, and not the Intrigue, that's the Crime.
Sir Toby. The way to keep the Town Civil, is to be openly Scandalous and Lewd. We never talk out of Aversion to the Guilty, but Spight to the Innocent; and care not to expose those who do Ill, but defame those who do Well. Believe me, the only way to gain an ill Reputation, is to live Chaste; the Town abhors Modesty and Vertue, but Impudence and Vice are its inseparable Companions: Be as wicked as you please, the Town will never expose a Friend.
Enter Page.
Page. There's below a young Gentleman desires to speak with Sir Toby.
Sir Toby. I come instantly———
[Exit Page.
'Tis our Spark, Madam—I'll go down to him, and keep him in discourse 'till you are quite ready.
​Lad. Dor. Sir Toby your Servant, I'll endeavour to profit by your wise Lecture. [Exit Sir Toby.
[Rises from her Toilette.]
Plackett, give me one of my last new Fans—No—another; one that has the right Flirt, and rides with an Air. Ay, this without Nudities.
Plack. The Gentleman will be Impatient.
Lad. Dor. I go: Is everything as it shou'd be?
Plack. Most exact, Madam.
Lad. Dor. And d'e hear? [Whispers.
Plack. Who? Sir John Aery, and Mr. Vaunter, I think you call'd 'em; I will not fail, Madam.
Lad. Dor. This young Thing will want Helps.
Plack. And Fools have an old Saying of their side, which makes 'em so welcom.
[Exeunt.
Enter Diana, Melissa, Dorinda, Miranda, and Constantia seeming in Courtship with all Four.
Constantia repeating:
​And how is it possible to chuse one when all are engaging alike? if at any time I seem enclin'd to the Prudence and nice Honour of Diana, the Gaiety and lively Humour of Melissa comes in view, and with-holds me. And when Melissa gets ground, strait Dorinda interposes with her admirable Shape and Mien: And so on to the charming Miranda, who, with a Song, can turn my fleeting heart which way the pleases.
Mir. Sure Cupid shot you with a Blunderbuss, four such dreadful Wounds cou'd never be made with a Dart.
Mel. Phoo, 'tis the usual Ceremony of all Men, to carry themselves equal to the whole Company; if he had us single, we shou'd soon know his mind.
Dia. Really my Sister has observ'd with great Prudence: It is likely the Gentleman wou'd be particular, if we were Angle; Pray Sisters retire, and leave us alone.
Dor. Fy, Sister, sure your nice Honour wou'd not permit you to be left alone with a Man.
Mel. I was the first who propos'd the Expedient, and will be the first to have the benefit of it.
Dia. Really you are very confident; sure there is some Respect due to your eldest Sister.
Mel. You might have spar'd the remembrance of your age for your own sake.
Const. Pray, Ladies, let not this Debate go any further, I have found out an Expedient to close all. Come in with me, and I will seal up four Notes, giving one to each of you, three being Blanks, and the fourth my Determination; which you shall deliver, as soon as I am gone from you, to your Brother, who shall tell you my mind, sparing me the confusion.
Dia. No, No; since I have once said it, Mr. Courtall, really I will be left alone with you.
Const. Pray, Madam, consent to what I have propos'd.
[Aside to her.]
You are certain to be my Choice.
Mel. I say again———
Const. Dear Melissa be contented.
[Aside to her.]
They shall all have Blanks but you.
Dor. For my part I consent to leave you together: Elder-ship may be a Plea for Respect, but 'tis a very bad one for Love.
Const. Peace, good Dorinda, and agree to my Method.
[Aside to her.]
The Benefit Ticket shall be yours.
Mir. I am clearly for his Opinion in writing, 'tis much the surest way, and not to be retraced.
Const. Most charming Miranda a thousand Acknowledgments.
[Aside to her.]
You only are the Venus among these Goddesses, the Prize of Beauty shall be yours.
[Aloud.]
Now Ladies let's in, and proceed to Election; sure no Lover since Paris was ever so put to it in his Choice.
[Exeunt.
Lady Dorimen, Angelica, Lucinda, and Philabel all seated.
SONG in Dialogue.
| Thirsis. | Delia, how long must I despair, And tax you with Disdain? Still to my tender Love severe, Relentless to my Pain. |
| Delia. | When Men of equal Merit love us, And do with equal Ardor sue; Thirsis you know but one must move us, Can I be your's and Strephon's too? My ravish’d Eyes view both with Pleasure, Impartial to your high desert; To both alike Esteem I measure, To one alone can give my Heart. |
| Thirsis. | Mysterious Guide of Inclination, Tell me Tyrant, why am I With equal Merit, equal Passion, Thus the Victim chosen to dye? Why am I The Victim chosen to dye? |
| Delia. | On Fate alone depends Success, And Fancy Reason over-rules; Or why should Virtue ever miss Rewards, so often given to Fools. 'Tis not the Handsome, nor the Witty; But who alone is born to please: Love do's predestinate our pity; We chuse but whom he first decrees. |
​Ang. The Words, Ladies, are my own; pray, your Opinion.
Lady Dor. You are a Wit then.
Ang. O! we are all Wits. Pray, Madam, by what celebrated Wits are you visited? for there is no way to establish a Reputation like being a Patron to Men of Parts.
Lady Dor. I love Men of Parts mightily: A Man without Parts is a strange Monster. I have some that are pretty constant Visitants; for Example, the Translator's of Plutarch's Lives, Juvenal's Satyr.———
Ang. Foh, a Lady, and converse with Greek and Latin Wits. No, give me your Wits of the Town, who are above Learning; your Wits of Quality that can scarce Write or Read; your Lampoon-wits.
Phil. Bold Rogues, that spare nothing that's sacred, not even the Majesty of Kings; that can make Black, White; and White, Black. Take away the Reputation of the chastest Woman, and give it to the lewdest Prostitute. Call the Man of Sense, a Fool. And the Man of Honour, a Coward. Make Religion, Apostacy. And sanctify Rebellion and Parricide. Whose only Topicks are Scandal, Sedition, and Blasphemy. And all they contend for, but who shall be the greatest Rascal, and tell the most plausible Lye behind a Man's back.
Lady Dor. However, I know some certain Ladies, who think themselves neglected, to be left out of a Lampoon; and are proud to have their Names publish'd, and to be known, and enquir'd after by the whole Town.
Ang. to Lucind. Pray, Madam, did you never write?
Lucin. Who, I, Sir! 'tis not a Talent for a Woman.
Phil. And why not for a Woman, Madam? An Evenings Exercise at Crambo, to get the knack of Rhyming, is all that's necessary; 'tis no matter for Sense, who cares for Sense?
Ang. Besides there are no pains requir'd, as is plain, for when we take all the pains in the World, 'tis just the same thing, we write never the better.
​Lady Dor. Mr. Philabel you us'd to have good Intelligence; what new Diversions are preparing for the Town?
Phil. The newest thing that I know of, is a Dictionary that's preparing for the Press, at the desire of a certain great Lady, to suit our Language to the Modesty of the fair Sex, and to castrate the immodest Syllables in such Words as begin and end obscenely.
Lucinda. Fy? Philabel, was ever such an extravagance.
Lady Dor. I vow, a very decent design; I have been strangely put out of countenance my self at the beginning and conclusions of some certain words.
Phil. There is likewise a Cabal of Ladies, who meet daily for the Reformation of good Manners. Another great Grievance is the Nudities upon Fans worse than the Postures of a Venetian Snuff-box.
Lady Dor. I know a Lady, that shall be nameless, whose Fans are always painted with filthy naked Boys, and yet for the World, she would not be perswaded to be seen in Chelsea-Reach upon a Summers Evening.
Phil. Likewise, Madam, a Poet is to lose his Maidenhead to day upon the Stage.———
Lady Dorimen. Lord! Mr. Philabel, what do you mean?
Phil. Nothing, Madam, but that there is a new Play to be acted. A young Fellow has been drawn in to play the Fool without any necessity for it.
Ang. How comes your Ladyship not to be there? You would see rare sport; there is a Party already engaged to cry it down.
Lucin. How! engag'd to cry down a Play before they knew whether it's good or bad.
Phil. O, no matter for that. I'll tell you their Method; they spread themselves in Parties all over the House; some in the Pit, some in the Boxes, others in the Galleries, but principally on the Stage; they Cough, Sneeze, talk Loud, and break silly Jests; sometimes Laughing, ​sometimes Singing, sometimes Whittling, till the House is in an Uproar; some Laugh and Clap; some Hiss and are Angry; Swords are drawn, the Actors interrupted, the Scene broken off, and so the Play's sent to the Devil.
Lucin. A very compendious Method.
Phil. A new Play never wants Enemies. First, All your discontented Poets who have been ill-us'd themselves, are glad of a new Companion; then your Criticks that had not the Reading of the piece before Was given to the House, are sure to Censure severely, to be reveng'd for their neglected Judgments. And lastly, All your drest Beaux, who revenge upon the Innocent Play the injuries they receive from the Crowd, as the ruffling their Crevats, disordering their Perukes, and the Sweat that gets the ascendant of their Essence and Polville.
Lady Dor. A very rational Account. I confess, I have often wonder'd at the ill Success of some Plays.
Ang. Now I think on't, Madam, I have waiting below some Dancers, that I brought hither for your Ladyship's Entertainment; they shall show you a Dance that a Friend of mine has compos'd for his Mistress.
Lucin. How, Sir, compos'd for a Mistress! I have heard of Songs compos'd for a Mistress; but a Dance is extreamly new.
Phil. 'Tis fit, Madam, that some new ways should be invented to engage the Ladies; 'tis dull to tread always in the same path. And nothing is found so prevailing as these mute Accomplishments. Writing, and saying fine things, have given place to the Caper, the Flute, and the Voice.
Lucin. Some Fool, who had no other way of prevailing, was certainly the first that introduc'd those effeminate Accomplishments.
Phil. Right, Madam, and 'twas as necessary, as for those who have ill Smells, to keep, up the fashion of perfumes.———
​Ang. Or, as for Ladies with Pimples to encourage Patching.
L. Dor. Pray let us see the Dance. (they all rise.
Ang. Hey! Enter Dance.
Phil. Where are these Balladins?
Dance.
Ang. And will not this carry the Lady, d'ye think?
L. Dor. Very Passionate indeed. There are some certain motions in Dancing, extreamly Pathetick and Expressive.
Enter Sir Toby and Bellamour.
Sir Toby. You see Madam, I am come again; I am a Man of my word.
L. Dor. You are always so—Mr. Bellamour, your Servant. Wou'd you had both come sooner, to have seen the Dance.
Ang. Let not that trouble you, Madam; they are my Friends and at my Devotion, and shall renew the Entertainment, since it proves agreeable to you. Ladies and Gentlemen, the t'other cast of your Office if you please.
(To the Singers and Dancers.
SONG.
Dance.
Sir Toby. Very fine, extreamly fine—Mr. Bellamour and I, Madam, met at the Door, having both the same Design of waiting on your Ladyship. Sir Toby says he, be pleased to go before, I wait on you: Mr. Bellamour, says I, after you is Manners. Pray, Sir, says he, give me leave; by no means, Sir, said I again: And then said he, and then said I, till at last, begad, we both came in together, and Adzookers, I have almost Squeez'd off the bottom of my Belly—Pox of Complements and strait Doors.
Ang. aside. Now aid me all the Arts of Woman-kind, Revenge and Jealousie, till I have vext the Traytor's Heart, as he has abus'd mine.
I wonder, Sir Toby, you shou'd be so Ceremonious, with one to whom you ought to be a sworn Enemy. I cannot with Patience suffer my Friend to be wrong'd, and therefore think my self oblig'd to acquaint you, that this Gentleman has injur'd you.
Bel. softly to him. Hark ye, Sir———
Ang. No, no, all shall out, unless you ingage before all this Company, to make Reparation for the future,
Sir-Toby. Hey Day! Why he never did me any injury. Adzooks, my little Ganimea's in the Clouds.
Ang. I'll tell you then in short———
Bell. softly. Hold, or by Heaven———
Ang. Nay, no threats nor no Whispering. This Gentleman, Sir Toby, some time since, made pretensions to your Daughter, as now Madam, he does to your Neice; but not Pretensions that were dishonourable, but confirm'd by Vows and Oaths, till she yielded, at last, to be privately Contracted.
L. Dor. How! Contracted!
Luc. Base Man.
Bell. Pray harken not to what he says; this is the strangest Extravagance.
Bel. No, no, pray let's hear all.
Bell. to Ang. Damme, Sir, this Fooling shan't pass—a word with you.
​Ang. No Bribes, no Bribes.
Luc. This must be true, he is so Concern'd.
Bell. As I hope to be sav'd, Madam———
Phil. No Swearing, dear Sir, it will Offend the Ladies.
Bell. Damn Swearing, Sir———
L. Dor. and Luc. No quarrelling here, I beseech you, Gentlemen.
Bell. I remember indeed, a Lady whom I us'd to Visit in the Countrey; and I confess, Sir, your Daughter I think she was.
Sir Toby. O was she so, Sir; a Damn'd Villanous Whoring Rogue, this.
Bell. Some words of Gallantry perhaps might escape me or a little Love in Jest, to pass the time: Or suppose it in Earnest; sure we may have leave to change once in our Lives; Saints are allow'd it in Religion, when they are Convinc'd of a better.
Sir Toby. But you shall not be allow'd it, Sir, pray don't mistake me, tho' I am an old lewd Dog, yet I have some Notions Adzooks, that are not amiss: How many Drunken Blaspheming Rascals venture their Lives every Day for Religion, and yet know nothing of any Religion. And so Sir, in short, tho' I may be a dishonour my self to my Family, Adzooks, I'll die to maintain the Honour of it.
Bell. I made no Promises, but what were meant in Jest: Vows and Oaths in Love, are like Counters at Play, we let up with 'em, but ne'er mind them when the Games over.
Luc. I am glad I know the value of yours, a very decent Declaration.
L. Dor. If Contracts might be made and broken, as Men change their Affections, Poor Women are like to be happy: Barbarous Ungrateful Creature, let me never see your Face again in my House—Oh! I can't endure him.
Ang. aside. Victoria, Victoria—the Day's my own, and the Enemy is beaten from his hold.
Luc. Such Perjury is never to be Pardon'd. (aside) O happy Accident! I wanted some decent pretence to get rid of him, and Fortune has help'd me.
​Bell. All things are Faults to those, who seek to find 'em. 'Tis you are Perjur'd, and not I, after having sworn to you had I engag'd in a new Passion, then I had been false. Now if I am false, 'tis for your sake; 'tis you that made me so, whatever I have been to others, to you my Faith has been inviolable.
Luc. Who can be false to one, 'tis violently to be suspected will be so to another, whenever his Pleasure or his Interest tempts him.
Bell. Confess the truth, and lay aside disguise; impute not to me your Crimes; this Airy, Smooth, Conceited Coxcomb, this Woman's Fool here, has workt into your Heart, and shov'd me out; this lucky Robber, in some wanton moment came, and rifled all the Treasure, whilst I, a poor precarious Beggar, ne'er could get the least unvalued Trifle. Gods! Gods! what Appetites have Women, and who can fix 'em? Now for Men of Sense, and now for Coxcombs; and every thing is refus'd or goes down, just as the Minute is, that we lay hold of.
(Omnes.) Ha, ha, ha. (All Laugh.
Bell. What could you see in this puny Effeminate thing, to Charm you? He can Sing and Dance, Play on the Flute, and Fiddle, there's Woman's Vanity again: She never sees a soft Affected Ass, but she is pleased with the reflection of her own Follies, and admires her self in every Fop, that like a Glass shows her the Image of her own Mind.
Phil. You are Rude, Sir.
Bell. Rude, Sir!
Phil. Ay, Rude Sir, that's English.
Bell. You are an Ass, Sir: Or is it your Soldier here, that Charms you? your Colonel! O how that founds to please a Ladies Ear! Is it his Red Coat, or his Hoboyes that take you most? what Wounds has he to show you? what Deeds in Battle to describe? what Dangers? he has seen a Siege thro' a Prospective Glass———
L. Dor. I can endure this odious Railer no longer; his Noise is got up into my Head—let us go in and leave this Wrangler to Rave by himself.
​Ang. We wait on your Ladyship.
Bell. (to Ang.) I shall find a time, Sir, I shall, to thank you for your good Offices.
Ang. Whenever you please, Sir.
Phil. (to Bell.) I shall find a time, Sir, to call you to an Account in another place.
Bell. What place you please, Sir.
Sir Toby. (to Bell.) I shall take an occasion, I shall Sir, Adzooks, to make you repent putting your Town Tricks upon Country Girls.
Luc. Mr. Bellmour, can't you compose your self enough to go in and Play a Pool with us.
Bell. I will wish you some Luck, Madam. May you be always Flatter'd, and always Loose; may you never think, you have a sure Game, but be disappointed by a better.
Luc. A little Hellebore would do the Gentleman no harm.
Sir Toby. Straw, Straw, and a Dungeon; Adzooks the Man's stark Mad.(Exeunt leaving Bellamour.
Bell. Mankind from Adam, have been Women's Fools; Women from Eve, have been the Devil's Tools: Heaven might have spar'd one Torment when we fell, Not left us Woman, or not threatened Hell. (Exit.