Selected quad for the lemma: fire_n
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A36989
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Madam Fickle, or, The witty false one a comedy as it is acted at His Royal Highness the Duke's theatre / written by Tho. Durfey, Gent.
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D'Urfey, Thomas, 1653-1723.
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1677
(1677)
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Wing D2743; ESTC R35668
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52,295
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72
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so curious in the discovery that they miss not an Anger-hole I found this Ladder of Ropes upon a Shelf but dare not venture down yet for fear some prying Rascal shall snap me between Earth and Heav'n 'Sdeath I 'll creep into this Bush it may be this may secure me Gets upon the Tavern Bush. Hah upon Honour I grow chearful this is so Modish a Device that I 've great hopes of good success Tob. They 're all gone in and now I 'm in a Tub of Troubles about vent'ring out if some of 'em should watch at the Gate I shou'd be snapt if snapt hang'd Udshash my stomach cannot relish that word Yet I 'll couch a little longer and see what will come on 't Enter Tilbury drunk with a Torch Zech. Here comes a Man with a Eight now sit close Tilb. A Son of a Whore to question a Man of 1500 l. a Year and dispute the Family of the Tilburies by St. Iago he deserves to be mortifi'd Constable What 's a Constable to a Man of Worship a Man of drunken reeling Worship a Worm a Scarab 't is fit he should be Carbonado'd Let 's see where am I What Tavern 's this oh 't is the Rose I 'll take another dose of Sack here and then home ho within there Drawer gives a Cup o' Sack here Zech. Ah Lord 't is my Father and drunk as a Wheel-barrow I shall be found out for he holds his Torch so high that any one that comes by must needs see me Takes Orange-peals out of his Pocket and throws at Tilbury Tilb. Why Rascals Poltroons Sons of Popinjayes what d' ee mean hah Dare you affront a Man of Quality I mean a Man of Countrey Quality Hah Puppies by St Iago I 'll break all the Windows I 'll teach you to be civil-now now cannot I find e'r a stone This is the great enormance of this City here 's Wenches in abundance but not a stone to throw at a Dog no matter I 'll set fire on your Bush 't is all one I 'll mortifie your Owls Nest by St Iago Zech. Oh! I shall be burnt Offers to burn the Bush. Why Father Father I 'm here I 'm here Your Son Your hopeful Son Oh Lord if I cry out too I shall be hang'd What shall I do Fire Fire Fire Enter the Constable and Watch. Const. How now What 's here one going to fire the house Awaâ— away with him to the Lodge here 's fine work indeed Come bring him away stay some of you here and watch the rest must be hereabouts Ex. Constable with Tilb. 1 Watch. But is' t possible Neighbours this house should be haunted and yet Folks live in 't 2 Watch. Possible as sure as you are there Neighbours They say the Devil appear'd to 'em every Night in the likeness of a Hog 1 Watch. Lord bless us Sirs a Hog but see what the Devil can do 2 Watch. Set down the Lanthorn Patch and come let 's sit down on this Butt I 'll tell you the Story 3 Watch. Ay come silence ho let 's hear Neighbour Cobble They sit 2 Watch. Why look you Sirs one Winter-night the Maid here sitting up late in the Kitchen and busie about her Houshold affairs who should come in at the Window but this Hog Omn. So 2 Watch. And you must know the Devil 's a cunning Hog when occasion serves kept such such a grunting and shuffling and jumping that the poor Wench was even out of her wits she wou'd have pray'd but her memory being very short and her Prayer-book out of the way she could not In short Sir this Hog or this Devil er this Devil of a Hog for'ts all having thrown down several Pewter Dishes and swallow'd a whole Porridge-pot of Brewis takes me his way into the Cellar there makes such a wrack among the Butts and Bottles such havock among the Glasses Tob. puts out the Candle in the Lanthorn How now who puts out the Candle there 1 Watch. Not I. 2 Watch. Nor I. Tob. Ugh! Ugh! Ugh! Grunts like a Hog Omn. Oh it comes it comes the Devil the Devil Ex. Tob. Udshash this Ugh Ugh was a rare invention Tob. comes out I think I have outwitted the Rogues Now give me a Man that can help a danger at a pinch for tho' I say it Machiavil was an Ass to me at a nights intrigue but I 'll away for fear of insurrections Ex. Zech. That was Toby's voice I believe he 's gone what the Devil was 't scar'd the Watchmen so No matter now the Coast is clear I 'll venture down so Gets down the Ladder Upon Honour I have been severely frighted to Night But the uncertain Fate of a Night-walker feldom meets better success I have escap'd two eminent dangers Burning and Hanging The thought of which has made me as dull as a rifl'd Cully Thus with the Brawny Crew of Suburb Roches We swim the Brackish Ocean of Deboches Without the Sense of Honour or Reproches Ex. Scene 3. Enter Sir Arthur Silvia Arbella Constantia Sir Arth. Come come I say there 's a trick in 't some cunning scurvy lewd design I know it have I not foster'd her with tenderness and before she could write Woman bred her carefully What cause has she then to desert my house Answer me that what cause Silv. Only fear Sir you should match her against her Will Heav'n knows I know no other cause Sir Arth. No no there must be more in 't 't was your pleasure Mistriss often to quarrel with her it caus'd your envy to see her so belov'd hah But bring her agen and quickly too or see my face no more out of my doors by Iacobs Pantible a Relique of Renown'd memory Thou art no more my daughter unless my Neece return Arb. Indeed Sir Arthur you are a little too severe in this for I am confident Madam Constantia knows nothing of her going she alwayes kept her intrigues from her knowledge and consequently this being it seems of more importance than any of the rest what her design is Heav'n knows but a day or two's time will doubtless discover all Sir Arth. Madam Arbella you are one I respect your Father Sir Andrew Swipplethrop is my intimate good Friend a Man I love and honour and by St Augustines Night-cap Madam Arbella you are welcome to my house but seek not to defend an ill Argument I say once more there 's a trick in 't and give me leave Madam I will persevere in my justice therefore Minion look to 't Enter Dorel Dor. Sir there is three Gentlemen below Suitors to Madam Fickle that desire admittance Sir Arth. Conduct 'em up I hope here 's some discovery Enter Bellamore Manley and Harry Bell. Though I was ignorant Sir you were my Rival I thought I had known you for a Gentleman one that wou'd not have carry'd a design under the disguise of counterfeit madness but assure your self Sir such an injury shall require satisfaction Man And have it my Lord
most easie Fop of all my Pretenders There needs no Net for him his own actions are His best Betrayers The other two I confess have More wit But what then Love makes a Dunce of a Councellor and their fondness proves as prejudicial As t'others folly O Men Silly Men That fetter'd with A Smile forget the Business of their Creation the Motives Of their Honour and the safety of their Countrey Thus Far my revenge is prosperous and I 'le forward My Panthers Breath shall draw em to the Snare my Tongue shall Charm my Smiles kindle Loves Fire in their amorous Souls till they 'r scorch'd severely then forsake 'em Whilst in my Breast my Heart obdurate Flint Shall hear and yet not pitty Thus all shall know that were like me refus'd No Serpent like a Woman when abus'd Exeunt Finis Actus Secundi ACT. III. Scene 1. Enter Sir Arthur Oldlove ridiculously drest hung with Medals Tilbury Jollyman Dorell A Table with Scull Sword Vial Shooing-horn Box and Picktooth cum caeteris Sir Arth. SIR 't is no matter what the World thinks The World think why let it think I say once agen 't is such as we redeem lost time from its Chaos of Confusion Is there any thing more pleasant than Antiquities The knowledge of the distinction of Ages or the deeds and manners of the Ancient I say is there any thing more pleasant Oh happy Romans that took this into consideration for my own part I am nothing a man of Ignorance a meer Reptile in these Rarities Ioll. Every man in his humor and let the World rub Appetite and Fancy are two great Monarchs that sway Mortality and hang pinching udsbores 'tis fit they shou'd be satisfi'd but good Sir Arthur what are these Doubtless these are Rarities too Sir Arth. Right Sir and such Rarities that were their worth valu'd the West-Indies were too small to purchase them Tilb. I warrant this has been some Princes or great mans Scull ' sbodikins he looks still with the face of Authority Sir Arth. Fie fie Sir your Hat on This Relique shou'd be toucht with reverence but your ignorance must excuse all Pray stand a little back and give attention This Scull this noble prudent politick Scull once belong'd or as I may more properly say was pertinent to the Body of St Gawaine a Knight of the round Table Tilb. St Gawaine A Dutchman was he not I believe I know some of his Relations Sir Arth. A Dutchman oh insupportable Sir did you ever know a Relique made of the Scull of a Dutchman No he was a Britain Sir a hardy Britain and Nephew to the famous King Arthur of happy memory and this Scull was late resident in Dover Castle brought thither by a fam'd Antiquary whose name time has outworn and since purchas'd by me to illustrate this City amongst the rest of my memorable Antiquities Ioll. Very well Sir proceed Sir Arth. And this here is the fam'd Hero Sir Lancelot du Lake's Sword Tilb. I 'll warrant this has been the death of many a Constable but methinks Sir Arthur the Rust has been a little too bold with it Sir Arth. Ah Sir Rust adds to an Antiquity 't is our Friend And we that are skill'd in these matters can by the Rust on a Sword tell how long it has been durable Ioll. Hang pinching 't was well discover'd I see a man may live and learn tho' he be never so old good Sir forward Sir Arth This here is a Shooing-horn d'mark me Hats off still pray observe it a Shooing horn Ioll. 'T is so Call Servant Sir Arth. This Shooing-horn Gentlemen the first that ever was invented was with reverence be it spoken the necessary implement of the Queen of Sheba and left by her careless Chambermaid at Ierusalem after her visit to King Solomon Tilb. By St Iago an admirable discovery ' sbodikins who would have thought so much ancient Honour could depend upon a Shooing-horn Ioll. Very strange very strange by St. Iago as you say but the stranger the merrier the merrier the better company and so hang pinching let the World rub Sir Arth. This is the Silver-box that Nero's Beard was kept in 't was in the Vatican 300 Years and lately presented to me by a Friend of mine a man of great authority in Rome Tilb. Somewhat like a Tobacco-box Sir Arth. No comparisons good Sir but observe this is the Rubbing-Brush of Silvius Otho and this the Picktooth of Heliogabalus Ioll. Carefully preserv'd from the ruines of time To grace your Study Sir Arthur Sir Arth. Lastly this last tho' most precious and best of all my Reliques this Vial is full of the tears of St. Ierom in former Years pendant upon the Spire of St. Sepulchres Steeple but by my indulgent care and great charge redeem'd from thence when the City was on fire Tilb. A thing of moment Sir and worth your diligence Enter Servant Serv Sir there 's two Gentlemen below desire admittance Tilb. Sbodikins my sons my sons Sir Arthur I order'd them to come hither that they might see the Ladies you writ me word of Friend shew 'em the way up Ex. Serv. Sir Arth. You did well Sir Dorell go see if my Neece be at leisure and bid my daughter come hither Ex. Dor. Ioll. Ay ay come hang pinching let 's see the Lady let Women make up the Consort and then let the World rub there 's mirth and frolick in 't but without Women udsbores 'tis prolix 't is impertinent 't is every thing ill and nothing well hang pinching Women Women I say Tilb. Well said 5-and-50 by St. Iago thou grow'st young agen thou' rt a very Boy Ioll. Not frozen not frozen heart whole and warm enough to keep out Weather udsbores when I was 1-and-20 I was the sprightly'st Fellow I cou'd have sung and danc'd and leapt and jumpt hey troll faith but 't is past now however I am sound hem not so old but I am a jolly man still and hang pinching let the World rub Sir Arth. Well I say still there 's nothing so becoming as Gravity Enter Zechiel Toby and Flaile Tilb. Zechiel my Boy how dost thou kiss me sirra s'bud I am glad to see thee they tell me y' are grown an arch Wag hah how now what Metamorphosis sirra where got you them Cloaths To Tob. Tob. Now must I give him a private Item or this ignorant old Fool will disgrace me before all the compay Takes him aside Tilb. Oh! are they so Sir Well God give ye joy But Zechiel prithee what News in Town Dost thou thrive hah Zech. Thrive there 's a Salisbury question already upon Honour 't is pity my Father was no better bred Sir the nourishing facundity pertinent to our sphere has bestow'd a better Talent on me than can be possibly acquir'd by Fortunes donation and therefore Noble Sir Arthur I sue to kiss your hand I was so bury'd in my Fathers Caresses that I protest my eyes were Traytors Sir Arth. Sir I