_Wild_. Rather _Diana_, Sir; I wish you Joy: See here's _Charlot_. I was not such a Fool to trust such Blessings with the Wicked.
_Sir Charl_. How, Mrs. Dy Ladyfi'd! This is an excellent way of disposing an old cast-off Mistress.
Sir _Tim_. How, have I married a Strumpet then?
_Dia_. You give your Nephew's Mistress, Sir, too coarse a Name. 'Tis true, I lov'd him, only him, and was true to him.
Sir _Tim_. Undone, undone! I shall ne'er make Guildhall-Speech more: but he shall hang for't, if there be e'er a Witness to be had between this and Salamanca for Money.
_Wild_. Do your worst, Sir; Witnesses are out of fashion now, Sir, thanks to your Ignoramus Juries.
Sir _Tim_. Then I'm resolv'd to disinherit him.
_Wild_. See, Sir, that's past your Skill too, thanks to my last Night's Ingenuity; they're [shews him the Writings.] sign'd, seal'd, and deliver'd in the presence of, &c.
Sir _Tim_. Bear Witness, 'twas he that rob'd me last night.
Sir _Anth_. We bear witness, Sir, we know of no such matter we. I thank you for that, Sir; wou'd you make Witnesses of Gentlemen?
Sir _Tim_. No matter for that, I'll have him hang'd, nay, drawn and quarter'd.
_Wild_. What, for obeying your Commands, and living on my Wits?
Sir _Anth_. Nay, then 'tis a clear Case, you can neither hang him or blame him.
_Wild_. I'll propose fairly now; if you'll be generous and pardon all, I'll render your Estate back during Life, and put the Writings in Sir Anthony Meriwill's and Sir _Charles_ his Hands--I have a Fortune here that will maintain me, Without so much as wishing for your Death.
_All_. This is but Reason.
_Sir Charl_. With this Proviso, that he makes not use on't to promote any Mischief to the King and Government.
_All_. Good and Just. [_Sir_ Tim. _pauses_.
Sir _Tim_. Hum, I'd as good quietly agree to't, as lose my Credit by making a Noise.--Well, _Tom_, I pardon all, and will be Friends.
[Gives him his Hand.
_Sir Charl_. See, my dear Creature, even this hard old Man is mollify'd at last into good Nature; yet you'll still be cruel.
L. _Gal_. No, your unwearied Love at last has vanquisht me. Here, be as happy as a Wife can make ye--One last look more, and then--be gone, fond Love.
[_Sighing and looking on_ Wilding, _giving Sir_ Charles _her Hand_.
_Sir Charl_. Come, Sir, you must receive _Diana_ too; she is a cheerful witty Girl, and handsome, one that will be a Comfort to your Age, and bring no Scandal home. Live peaceably, and do not trouble your decrepid Age with Business of State.
Let all things in their own due Order move, Let Caesar be the Kingdom's Care and Love; Let the hot-headed Mutineers petition, And meddle in the Rights of just Succession: But may all honest Hearts as one agree To bless the King, and Royal Albany.
[_Exeunt_.
EPILOGUE.
Written by a Person of Quality: Spoken by Mrs. _Boteler_.
_My Plot, I fear, will take but with a few, A rich young Heiress to her first Lover true!
'Tis damn'd unnatural, and past enduring, Against the fundamental Laws of Whoring.
Marrying's the Mask, which Modesty assures, Helps to get new, and covers old Amours; And Husband sounds so dull to a Town-Bride, Ye now-a-days condemn him e'er he's try'd; E'er in his Office he's confirmed Possessor, Like Trincaloes you chuse him a Successor, In the gay Spring of Love, when free from Doubts, With early Shoots his Velvet Forehead sprouts, Like a poor Parson bound to hard Indentures, You make him pay his First-fruits e'er he enters.
But for short Carnivals of stain good Cheer, You're after forc'd to keep Lent all the Year; Till brought at last to a starving Nun's Condition, You break into our Quarters for Provision; Invade Fop-corner with your glaring Beauties, And 'tice our Loyal Subjects from their Duties.
Pray, Ladies, leave that Province to our Care; A Fool is the Fee-simple of a Player, In which we Women claim a double share.
In other things the Men are Rulers made; But catching Woodcocks is our proper Trade.
If by Stage-Fops they a poor Living get, We can grow rich, thanks to our Mother-Wit, By the more natural Blockheads of the Pit.
Take then the Wits, and all their useless Prattles; But as for Fools, they are our Goods and Chattels.
Return, Ingrates, to your first Haunt the Stage; We taught your Youth, and helped your feeble Age.
What is't you see in Quality we want?
What can they give you which we cannot grant?
We have their Pride, their Frolicks, and their Paint.
We feel the same Touth dancing in our Blood; Our Dress as gay--All underneath as good.
Most Men have found us hitherto more true, And if we're not abus'd by some of you, We're full as fair--perhaps as wholesom too.
But if at best our hopeful Sport and Trade is, And nothing now will serve you but great Ladies; May question'd Marriages your Fortune be, And Lawyers drain your Pockets more than we: May Judges puzzle a clear Case with Laws, And Musquetoon at last decide the Cause_.
THE FEIGN'D CURTEZANS; OR, A NIGHT'S INTRIGUE.
ARGUMENT.
Marcella and Cornelia, nieces to Count Morosini and sisters to Julio, who is contracted to Laura Lucretia, a lady of quality, sister of Count Octavio, in order to avoid Marcella's marriage with this nobleman, secretly leave Viterbo where they live, and accompanied only by their attendants, Petro and Philippa, come to Rome, and there pass for courtezans under the names of Euphemia and Silvianetta. Their beauty wins them great renown in the gay world, and Sir Harry Fillamour, who loves Marcella, and Frank Galliard, two English travellers, are keenly attracted by this reputation. Sir Harry, however, is anxious for matrimony, Galliard for an intrigue. Marcella in her turn is already enamoured of Fillamour whom she has met at Viterbo. Morosini and Octavio follow the fugitives to Rome, whilst Laura Lucretia, who loves Galliard, disguises herself in male attire and takes a house on the Corso next door to the supposed courtezans. Fillamour and Galliard encounter the two ladies in the gardens of the Villa Medici, and Fillamour takes Marcella for a courtezan, whilst Galliard engages with Cornelia. Octavio passing with his followers spies and attacks his rival. A general melee ensues.
Julio, who has not seen his family for seven years, next appears, having taken Cornelia for a cyprian and followed her from St. Peter's. Marcella, in boy's attire, then gives Fillamour a letter from herself, signed under her own name, making an appointment for that night; but at the same time Galliard, claiming a former promise, drags his friend off to visit Euphemia. The intrigue is complicated by the ridiculous amours of two foolish travellers, Sir Signal Buffoon and Mr. Tickletext, a puritan divine, his tutor. These, unknown to each other, make assignations with the two bona robas by means of Petro, who dupes them thoroughly by his clever tricks, and pockets their money. Whilst Galliard and Sir Harry are serenading the ladies, Octavio, Julio and their bravos attack them. After the scuffle Laura Lucretia coming from her house leads in Julio, mistaking him for Galliard, and he her for Silvianetta. Next Sir Harry and Galliard arrive in safety at the sisters' house, and Marcella, as a courtezan, tempts her lover, who, however, refuses to yield and leaves her, to her secret joy. Tickletext has been placed by Petro in bed to await, as he supposes, Silvianetta, when Galliard in error entering the room in the dark gropes his way to the bed and finding a man, closes with him. The tutor escapes, and Cornelia coming in in the course of her wooing by Galliard informs him she is not really a courtezan as he supposed. In anger her gallant departs. Whilst he is telling Sir Harry this tale Cornelia, dressed as a page, follows him and delivers Fillamour a challenge as from Marcella's brother, Julio, summoning him to the Piazza di Spagna. Julio himself, newly come from Laura Lucretia, meeting Galliard relates to him how he passed the night with Silvianetta, which confirms the opinion the Englishman had already formed of her treachery and deceit. Laura Lucretia overhears and sends her maid to bring her Galliard; but whilst he is with her, Cornelia, who has jealously followed, feigning to be Julio's page, gives the amorous dame a letter as from her betrothed. The trick fails, Cornelia is laughed at as a saucy lad, repulsed and obliged to retire. Sir Harry is then met by Marcella dressed as a man and calling herself Julio. Julio himself happens to be at the Piazza di Spagna and he interrupts the quarrel. Octavio and Morosini speedily join him, as Crapine has tracked the runaways to their lodging. All these hurry into the courtezans' house, where they find Fillamour and Galliard. Mutual explanations follow. Octavio nobly renounces Marcella in favour of Fillamour who claims her hand, whilst Cornelia gives herself to Galliard in sober wedlock. Tickletext and Sir Signal are then discovered to be concealed in the room, and their mutual frailties exposed. It is promised that the money of which Petro has choused them shall be restored, and everything is forgiven, since "'twas but one night's intrigue, in which all were a little faulty."
SOURCE.
The plot of _The Feign'd Curfezans_; or, _A Night's Intrigue_ is wholly original. It is one of those bustling pieces, quick with complicated intrigue, of the Spanish _comedias de capa y espada_ school, which Mrs.
Behn loved, and which none could present more happily or wittily than she. To quote the _Biographia Dramatics_, 'the play contains a vast deal of business and intrigue; the contrivance of the two ladies to obtain their differently disposed lovers, both by the same means, viz. by assuming the characters of courtezans, being productive of great variety.' Some incidents, indeed, recall _The Rover_; and the accident of Tickletext being discovered in bed by Galliard is similar to that when Carlo comes upon Fetherfool in the same circumstance, _Rover_ II, Act iv, iv. On the whole, however, _The Feign'd Curtezans_ is the better play, and may not unjustly claim to be, if not Mrs. Behn's masterpiece (a title it disputes with _The Rover_, Part I, and _The Lucky Chance_), at least one of the very best and wittiest of her sparkling comedies.
THEATRICAL HISTORY.
_The Feign'd Curtezans_; or, _A Night's Intrigue_ was produced at the Duke's Theatre, Dorset Garden, in 1679. The cast was a star one, and Downes remarks that it was 'well acted'; but though favourably received it does not, for some unaccountable reason, seem to have met with the triumphant success it certainly deserved. It continued to be played from time to time, and there was a notable revival on 8 August, 1716, at Lincoln's Inn Fields. Galliard was acted by J. Leigh; Sir Harry, Smith; Sir Signal, Bullock; Tickletext, Griffin; Pedro, Spiller; Julio, Bull jun. Cornelia, Mrs. Cross; Marcella, Mrs. Thurmond; Laura Lucretia, Mrs.
Spiller. It was performed three times that season, but soon after disappears from the repertory.