Changes to the Bed-chamber; Leticia in an undressing by the Women at the Table.
Enter to them Sir Feeble Fainwou’d.
Sir Feeb. What’s here? what’s here? the prating Women still. Ods bobs, what, not in Bed yet? for shame of Love, Leticia.
Let. For shame of Modesty, Sir; you wou’d not have me go to Bed before all this Company.
Sir Feeb. What, the Women! why, they must see you laid, ’tis the fashion.
Let. What, with a Man? I wou’d not for the World. Oh, Bellmour, where art thou with all thy promised aid? [Aside.
Dia. Nay, Madam, we shou’d see you laid indeed.
Let. First in my Grave, Diana.
Sir Feeb. Ods bobs, here’s a Compact amongst the Women — High Treason against the Bridegroom — therefore, Ladies, withdraw, or, adod, I’ll lock you all in. [Throws open his Gown, they run all away, he locks the Door.
So, so, now we’re alone, Leticia — off with this foolish Modesty, and Night Gown, and slide into my Arms. [She runs from him. H’e’, my little Puskin — what, fly me, my coy Daphne, [He pursues her. Knocking. Hah — who’s that knocks — who’s there? —
Bel. [Within.] ’Tis I, Sir, ’tis I, open the door presently.
Sir Feeb. Why, what’s the matter, is the House o-fire?
Bel. [Within.] Worse, Sir, worse —
[He opens the door, Bellmour enters with the Watch in his hand.
Let. ’Tis Bellmour’s Voice!
Bel. Oh, Sir, do you know this Watch?
Sir Feeb. This Watch!
Bel. Ay, Sir, this Watch?
Sir Feeb. This Watch! — why, prithee, why dost tell me of a Watch? ’tis Sir Cautious Fulbank’s Watch; what then, what a Pox dost trouble me with Watches? [Offers to put him out, he returns.
Bel. ’Tis indeed his Watch, Sir, and by this Token he has sent for you, to come immediately to his House, Sir.
Sir Feeb. What a Devil, art mad, Francis? or is his Worship mad, or does he think me mad? — go, prithee tell him I’ll come to him to morrow. [Goes to put him out.
Bel. To morrow, Sir! why all our Throats may be cut before to morrow.
Sir Feeb. What sayst thou, Throat cut?
Bel. Why, the City’s up in Arms, Sir, and all the Aldermen are met at Guild-Hall; some damnable Plot, Sir.
Sir Feeb. Hah — Plot — the Aldermen met at Guild-Hall! — hum — why, let ‘em meet, I’ll not lose this Night to save the Nation.
Let. Wou’d you to bed, Sir, when the weighty Affairs of State require your Presence?
Sir Feeb. — Hum — met at Guild-Hall; — my Clothes, my Gown again, Francis, I’ll out — out! what, upon my Wedding-night? No — I’ll in. [Putting on his Gown pausing, pulls it off again.
Let. For shame, Sir, shall the Reverend Council of the City debate without you?
Sir Feeb. Ay, that’s true, that’s true; come truss again, Francis, truss again — yet now I think on’t, Francis, prithee run thee to the Hall, and tell ‘em ’tis my Wedding-night, d’ye see, Francis; and let some body give my Voice for —
Bel. What, Sir?
Sir Feeb. Adod, I cannot tell; up in Arms, say you! why, let ‘em fight
Dog, fight Bear; mun, I’ll to Bed — go —
Let. And shall his Majesty’s Service and his Safety lie unregarded for a slight Woman, Sir?
Sir Feeb. Hum, his Majesty! — come, haste, Francis, I’ll away, and call Ralph, and the Footmen, and bid ‘em arm; each Man shoulder his Musket, and advance his Pike — and bring my Artillery Implements quick — and let’s away: Pupsey — b’u’y, Pupsey, I’ll bring it a fine thing yet before Morning, it may be — let’s away: I shall grow fond, and forget the business of the Nation — Come, follow me, Francis. —
[Exit Sir Feeble, Bellmour runs to Leticia.
Bel. Now, my Leticia, if thou e’er didst Love, If ever thou design’st to make me blest — Without delay fly this adulterous Bed.
Sir Feeb. Why, Francis, where are you, Knave?
[Sir Feeb. within.
Bel. I must be gone, lest he suspect us — I’ll lose him, and return to thee immediately — get thy self ready. —
Let. I will not fail, my Love.
[Exit Bellmour.
Old Man forgive me — thou the Aggressor art,
Who rudely forc’d the Hand without the Heart.
She cannot from the Paths of Honour rove,
Whose Guide’s Religion, and whose End is Love.
[Exit.