The Beaux-Stratagem: A comedy in five acts

Aim. Such goodness who could injure! I find myself unequal to the task of villain; she has gained my soul, and made it honest like her own – I cannot hurt her. [Aside.] Doctor, retire. [Exit Foigard.] Madam, behold your lover, and your proselyte, and judge of my passion by my conversion. – I'm all a lie, nor dare I give a fiction to your arms; – I am all a counterfeit, except my passion.

Dor. Forbid it, Heaven! – A counterfeit!

Aim. I am no lord, but a poor, needy man, come with a mean, a scandalous design, to prey upon your fortune: – But the beauties of your mind and person, have so won me from myself, that, like a trusty servant, I prefer the interest of my mistress to my own.

Dor. Pray, sir, who are you?

Aim. Brother to the man, whose title I usurped, but stranger to his honour or his fortune.

Dor. Matchless honesty! – Once I was proud, sir, of your wealth and title, but now am prouder that you want it: now I can show, that my love was justly levelled, and had no aim but love. – Doctor, come in.

Enter Foigard, at one Door, Gipsey at another, who whispers Dorinda

Your pardon, sir; we shan't want you now, sir. You must excuse me – I'll wait on you presently.

[Exit with Gipsey.

Foig. Upon my shoul, now, dis is foolish. [Exit.

Aim. Gone! and bid the priest depart – It has an ominous look!

Enter Archer

Arch. Courage, Tom – Shall I wish you joy?

Aim. No.

Arch. Oons, man! what ha' you been doing?

Aim. O Archer, my honesty, I fear, has ruined me.

Arch. How!

Aim. I have discovered myself.

Arch. Discovered! and without my consent? – What! have I embarked my small remains in the same bottom with yours, and you dispose of all without my partnership?

Aim. O, Archer, I own my fault.

Arch. After conviction – 'tis then too late for pardon. – You may remember, Mr. Aimwell, that you proposed this folly – As you begun, so end it – Henceforth, I'll hunt my fortune single – so farewell.

Aim. Stay, my dear Archer, but a minute.

Arch. Stay! What, to be despised, exposed, and laughed at? – No, I would sooner change conditions with the worst of the rogues we just now bound, than bear one scornful smile from the proud knight, that once I treated as my equal.

Aim. What knight?

Arch. Sir Charles Freeman, brother to the lady that I had almost – But, no matter for that, 'tis a cursed night's work, and so I leave you to make the best on't.

Aim. Freeman! – One word, Archer – Still I have hopes; methought, she received my confession with pleasure.

Arch. 'Sdeath! who doubts it?

Aim. She consented after to the match; and still I dare believe she will be just.

Arch. To herself, I warrant her; as you should have been.

Aim. By all my hopes, she comes! and smiling comes.

Enter Dorinda, gaily

Dor. Come, my dear lord, I fly with impatience to your arms. – The minutes of my absence was a tedious year. – Where's this priest?

Enter Foigard

Arch. Oons! a brave girl!

Dor. I suppose, my lord, this gentleman is privy to our affairs?

Arch. Yes, yes, madam, I'm to be your father.

Dor. Come, priest, do your office.

Arch. Make haste, make haste! couple them any way. [Takes Aimwell's Hand.] Come, madam, I'm to give you —

Dor. My mind's altered – I won't.

Arch. Eh!

Aim. I'm confounded!

Foig. Upon my shoul, and so is myshelf!

Arch. What's the matter now, madam?

Dor. Lookye, sir, one generous action deserves another. – This gentleman's honour obliged him to hide nothing from me; my justice engages me to conceal nothing from him. In short, sir, you are the person that you thought you counterfeited; you are the true Lord Viscount Aimwell, and I wish your lordship joy. – Now, priest, you may begone; – if my lord is now pleased with the match, let his lordship marry me in the face of the world.

Aim. Archer, what does she mean?

Dor. Here's a witness for my truth.

Enter Sir Charles, and Mrs. Sullen

Sir C. My dear Lord Aimwell, I wish you joy!

Aim. Of what?

Sir C. Of your honour and estate. Your brother died the day before I left London; and all your friends have writ after you to Brussels: among the rest, I did myself the honour.

Arch. Harkye, sir knight, don't you banter now?

Sir C. 'Tis truth, upon my honour.

Aim. Thanks to the pregnant stars, that formed this accident.

Arch. Thanks to the womb of time, that brought it forth – away with it.

Aim. Thanks to my guardian angel, that led me to the prize.

[Taking Dorinda's Hand.

Arch. And double thanks to the noble Sir Charles Freeman. – My lord, I wish you joy. My lady, I wish you joy. – Egad, Sir Charles, you're the honestest fellow living. – 'Sdeath! I'm grown strangely airy upon this matter. – My lord, how d'ye? – A word, my lord: Don't you remember something of a previous agreement, that entitles me to the moiety of this lady's fortune, which, I think, will amount to ten thousand pounds?

Aim. Not a penny, Archer: you would have cut my throat just now, because I would not deceive this lady.

Arch. Ay, and I'll cut your throat still, if you should deceive her now.

Aim. That's what I expect; and to end the dispute, the lady's fortune is twenty thousand pounds, we'll divide stakes; take the twenty thousand pounds, or the lady.

Dor. How! is your lordship so indifferent?

Arch. No, no, no, madam! his lordship knows very well, that I'll take the money; I leave you to his lordship, and so we are both provided for.

Enter Foigard

Foig. Arra fait, de people do say, you be all robbed, joy.

Aim. The ladies have been in some danger, sir, as you saw.

Foig. Upon my shoul, our inn be rob too.

Aim. Our inn! By whom?

Foig. Upon my shalvation, our landlord has robbed himself, and run away wid da money.

Arch. Robbed himself!

Foig. Ay, fait! and me too, of a hundred pounds.

Arch. Robbed you of a hundred pounds!

Foig. Yes, fait, honey, that I did owe to him.

Aim. Our money's gone, Frank!

Arch. Rot the money! my wench is gone.

Sir C. This good company meets opportunely in favour of a design I have in behalf of my unfortunate sister: I intend to part her from her husband. Gentlemen, will you assist me?

Arch. Assist you! – 'Sdeath! who would not?

Foig. Ay, upon my shoul, we'll all ashist.

Enter Sullen

Sul. What's all this? – They tell me, spouse, that you had like to have been robbed.

Mrs. Sul. Truly, spouse, I was pretty near it – had not these two gentlemen interposed.

Sul. How came these gentlemen here?

Mrs. Sul. That's his way of returning thanks, you must know.

Foig. Ay, but upon my conshience, de question be apropos, for all dat.

Sir C. You promised, last night, sir, that you would deliver your lady to me this morning.

Sul. Humph!

Arch. Humph! what do you mean by humph? – Sir, you shall deliver her – In short, sir, we have saved you and your family, and if you are not civil, we'll unbind the rogues, join with them, and set fire to your house. – What does the man mean? Not part with his wife!

Foig. Arra, not part wid your wife! Upon my shoul, de man dosh not understand common shivility.

Mrs. Sul. Hold, gentlemen, all things here must move by consent: compulsion would spoil us. Let my dear and I talk the matter over, and you shall judge it between us.

Sul. Let me know, first, who are to be our judges. – Pray, sir, who are you?

Sir C. I am Sir Charles Freeman, come to take away your wife.

Sul. And you, good sir?

Aim. Thomas, Viscount Aimwell, come to take away your sister.

Sul. And you, pray, sir?

Arch. Francis Archer, Esq. come —

Sul. To take away my mother, I hope. – Gentlemen, you are heartily welcome: I never met with three more obliging people since I was born. – And now, my dear, if you please, you shall have the first word.

Arch. And the last, for five pounds. [Aside.

Mrs. Sul. Spouse.

Sul. Rib.

Mrs. Sul. How long have you been married?

Sul. By the almanack, fourteen months – but, by my account, fourteen years.

Mrs. Sul. 'Tis thereabout, by my reckoning.

Foig. Upon my conshience, dere accounts vil agree.

Sir C. What are the bars to your mutual contentment?

Mrs. Sul. In the first place, I can't drink ale with him.

Sul. Nor can I drink tea with her.

Mrs. Sul. I can't hunt with you.

Sul. Nor can I dance with you.

Mrs. Sul. I hate cocking and racing.

Sul. And I abhor ombre and picquet.

Mrs. Sul. Your silence is intolerable.

Sul. Your prating is worse.

Mrs. Sul. Is there, on earth, a thing we can agree in?

Sul. Yes – to part.

Mrs. Sul. With all my heart.

Sul. Your hand.

Mrs. Sul. Here.

Sul. These hands joined us; these shall part us – Away!

Mrs. Sul. East.

Sul. West.

Mrs. Sul. North.

Sul. South: as far as the poles asunder.

Foig. Upon my shoul, a very pretty sheremony!

Sir C. Now, Mr. Sullen, there wants only my sister's fortune to make us easy.

Sul. Sir Charles, you love your sister, and I love her fortune; every one to his fancy.

Arch. Then you won't refund?

Sul. Not a stiver.

Arch. What is her portion?

Sir C. Ten thousand pounds, sir.

Arch. I'll pay it: my lord, I thank him, has enabled me; and, if the lady pleases, she shall go home with me. This night's adventure has proved strangely lucky to us all – For Captain Gibbet, in his walk, has made bold, Mr. Sullen, with your study and scrutoire, and has taken out all the writings of your estate, all the articles of marriage with your lady, bills, bonds, leases, receipts, to an infinite value; I took them from him, and will deliver them to Sir Charles.

Sul. How! my writings! my head aches consumedly. – Well, gentlemen, you shall have her fortune, but I can't talk. If you have a mind, Sir Charles, to be merry, and celebrate my sister's wedding and my divorce, you may command my house. But my head aches consumedly; – Scrub, bring me a dram.

Foig. And put a sup in the top for myself.

[Exeunt Foigard and Sullen.

Arch. 'Twould be hard to guess which of these parties is the better pleased, the couple joined, or the couple parted; the one rejoicing in hopes of an untasted happiness, and the other in their deliverance from an experienced misery.

Both happy in their several states, we find:Those parted by consent, and those conjoin'd.Consent, if mutual, saves the lawyer's fee;Consent is law enough to set you free.[Exeunt Omnes.THE END