« 上一頁繼續 »
Heart. And you eke also, “ and send you salt “ enough with your tears to scour away your sins."
Shack. Sir John English, my most bountiful lord and master, hearing by the mouth of common fame
Heart. Common fame is a common liar, friend; you have your news from the worst hands.
Shack. Sir, you break the thread of my discourse. Heart. Well, join it again, and go on.
Shack. Sir John English, my most bountiful lord and master, hearing by the mouth of common fame, that you were joined in holy wedlock to the niece of his good tenant, Solomon Freehold, sends his wishes ambassadors by me, the humblest of his vassals, that you and your fair bride will be pleased to sup and con. summate your marriage at his house.
Heart. Verily, thou hast well unfolded thy message ; now plait it up carefully again, friend, and give my service to thy master Sir John, and say,
my wishes are to be private for a night or two.
Shack. Sir, I shall report---or carry back your answer accordingly.
Flora. Stay, friend, stay a moment.--[To Heart.] If I could prevail upon you, you should grant Sir John's request.
Heart. 'Twill interrupt our happiness. Noise is an enemy to transport. I am so covetous, I would have thee for ever alone,
Flora. But Sir John has always been to ine the most obliging, kindest, best-natured man; at this time it would look like ingratitude to refuse him. Give me my request; 'tis the first I ever made. I'll go before,
and prepare the old gentleman to receive you, and prevent all ceremonious trouble. You'll be there in an hour.
Heart. I can deny thee nothing. Tell your master I'll wait on him.
[ Exeunt Shack. and Flora.
Ha, George! I was looking for you. What shall I do? You shall advise me. Shall I marry my dear little girl, or no?
Mode. To marry for love, my friend, is confining your whole body for the error of your eyes only.
Heart. Ay, but where one loves, one would keep 2 woman to one's self.
Mode. Ha, ha! keep a woman to one's self. He that purchases an estate where all the world take a right of common, may build churches for atheists, and alms-houses for misers.
Heart. But a little legal inclosure is for the comfort of our lives, when the land has been carefully and virtuously cultivated.
Mode. Why, you don't really intend to marry this girl?
Heart. Really, I believe I shall.
Mode. Indeed! Ah, pretty!-Do’e, do'e, Aling two thousand pounds a year away upon a cottage, Marian -take the refuse of a bumpkin to your marriagebed, and after that be the cuckold of the plowman.
Heart. How! What?
Mode. Ay, ten to one but some sinewy thresher, who has warmed her brisk blood at a hop or a wake,
steps into your place, and delivers down a posterity of young
Aail-drivers known by the name of Heart. well
Heart. Fie, Modely! no more of this. You know her virtue is unsullied as her beauty; besides, her education has been above these clods.
Mode. Her education has been among them. But why should you marry her? Shew her some gold, man; promise her mountains, bargain for her, purchase her, run away with her, keep her two or three years, breed out of her-Why should you buy the whole piece, when you may have a suit for a sample ? Wear her a little, and then
Heart. Sir, I bore your base reflections with temper, while I believed your meaning was friendly ; but now I find you indulge your ill-nature at the expence of a virtuous woman
Mode. Oh, oh! you are grave-that is, you are growing mad indeed, and begin to rattle
matri. monial chain.
Heart. I am talking of religion to a heretic, of morals to a libertine.
Mode. Well, well, then it shall have its toy. Did it cry
for a wife? It shall be tied to it, if nothing else will do; like an idiot with a horn book at his girdle. It shall have a gingerbread wife too, but without any gilding
Heart. Pr’ythee, George, don't make me angry with thee in earnest.
Mode. What is the matter with the man? Art thou
mad? Thou art as uneasy as if thou wert already married, and had found the corn in the field, when you did not know the grain was sowed.
Heart. Why, then, to confess the honest truth, I am married.
Mode. Married! When?
Mode. Very good l And so you come to know, it seems, whether you shall give bond for the debt, when there's an execution upon the goods.
Heart. Well, George, but now you know my case, tell me, as a friend, only your opinion of what I have done.
Mode. Done! Pox, you have done a very silly thing; sold yourself for a waxen baby, a painted moppet, a gay, prating, party-coloured paraquito, which little master will play with till he is sick of it, and then in a gloomy mood be ready to twist its neck off. Ha, ha! a very pretty fellow, to make a vow to be always in the same mind. Oons! you look as if you walked upon your head, with your brains in your breeches.
Heart. Thou art so loose, thy imagination wonders what virtue is. There is no talking with thee. Come, go with me to Sir John's to supper, and be as much a wag there as you please.
Mode. No, I have other game in view-Farewell Yonder she starts. Ay, there's a mademoiselle
I'll have cheaper; she is not wicked enough yet to ask such an unconscionable price as matrimony. (Exeunt,
MODELY re-enters with AURA.
Aura. Oh, lud! you have brought all the blood in my body into
face. Mode. Colour is the life of beauty. Can you be angry with me for making you more handsome ? I swear I will be ever faithful. Come, you little dear rogue; you shall trust me.
Aura. Never, never. Oh, lud ! don't ask me. My heart beats as if it would break a way thro'
Mode. What, won't you trust me with a kiss ?
Aura. That's a trifle. [Kissing her.] You're impus dent.
Mode. You're idle.
Mode. To wrestle for a fall only. There's a couch in the next room will tell no tales. . This way, my dear--- [Struggling. ] Nay, now you are a little fool.
Aura. [Getting one hand loose, strikes him.] I'll tear your eyes out.
“ Mode. I shall find the way blindfold, thou dear, « dear, ill-natured devil---She is confounded strong,
[Pulling her. “ Aura." Help, help, for Heaven's sake! murder, murder.