The Rover Act II Chapter I

The Long Street.

Enter BELVILE and FREDERICK in Masquing-Habits, and WILLMORE in his own Clothes, with a Vizard in his Hand.

WILL. But why thus disguised and muzzled?

BELV. Because whatever Extravagances we commit in these Faces, our own may not be obliged to answer ’em.

WILL. I should have changed my Eternal Buff too: but no matter, my little Gipsy would not have found me out then: for if she should change hers, it is impossible I should know her, unless I should hear her prattle A Pox on’t, I cannot get her out of my Head: Pray Heaven, if ever I do see her again, she prove damnable ugly, that I may fortify my self against her Tongue.

BELV. Have a care of Love, for o’ my conscience she was not of a Quality to give thee any hopes.

WILL. Pox on ’em, why do they draw a Man in then? She has play’d with my Heart so, that ’twill never lie still till I have met with some kind Wench, that will play the Game out with me Oh for my Arms full of soft, white, kind Woman! such as I fancy ANGELICA.

BELV. This is her House, if you were but in stock to get admittance; they have not din’d yet; I perceive the Picture is not out.

Enter BLUNT.

WILL. I long to see the Shadow of the fair Substance, a Man may gaze on that for nothing.

BLUNT. Colonel, thy Hand and thine, FRED. I have been an Ass, a deluded Fool, a very Coxcomb from my Birth till this Hour, and heartily repent my little Faith.

BELV. What the Devil’s the matter with thee Ned?

BLUNT. Oh such a Mistress, FRED, such a Girl!

WILL. Ha! where?

FRED. Ay where!

BLUNT. So fond, so amorous, so toying and fine! and all for sheer Love, ye Rogue! Oh how she looked and kissed! and sooth’d my Heart from my Bosom. I cannot think I was awake, and yet methinks I see and feel her Charms still FRED. Try if she have not left the Taste of her balmy Kisses upon my Lips                                                                                                      [Kisses him.

BELV. Ha, ha, ha!

WILL. Death Man, where is she?

BLUNT. What a Dog was I to stay in dull England so long—How have I laught at the Colonel when he sighed for Love! but now the little Archer has revenged him, and by his own Dart, I can guess at all his Joys, which then I took for Fancies, mere Dreams and Fables Well, I’m resolved to sell all in Essex, and plant here for ever.

BELV. What a Blessing ’tis, thou hast a Mistress thou dares boast of; for I know thy Humour is rather to have a proclaim’d Clap, than a secret Amour.

WILL. Dost know her Name?

BLUNT. Her Name? No,’sheartlikins: what care I for Names?
She’s fair, young, brisk and kind, even to ravishment: and what a Pox care I for knowing her by another Title?

WILL. Didst give her anything?

BLUNT. Give her! Ha, ha, ha! why, she’s a Person of Quality That’s a good one, give her! ’sheartlikins dost think such Creatures are to be bought? Or are we provided for such a Purchase? Give her, quoth ye? Why she presented me with this Bracelet, for the Toy of a Diamond I us’d to wear: No, Gentlemen, NED BLUNT is not every Body She expects me again to night.

WILL. Egad that’s well; we’ll all go.

BLUNT. Not a Soul: No, Gentlemen, you are Wits; I am a dull Country Rogue, I.

FRED. Well, Sir, for all your Person of Quality, I shall be very glad to understand your Purse be secure; ’tis our whole Estate at present, which we are loth to hazard in one Bottom: come, Sir, unload.

BLUNT. Take the necessary Trifle, useless now to me, that am beloved by such a Gentlewoman ’sheartlikins Money! Here take mine too.

FRED. No, keep that to be cozened, that we may laugh.

WILL. Cozen’d! Death! would I could meet with one, that would cozen me of all the Love I could spare to night.

FRED. Pox ’tis some common Whore upon my Life.

BLUNT. A Whore! yes with such Clothes! such Jewels! such a House! such Furniture, and so attended! a Whore!

BELV. Why yes, Sir, they are Whores, tho they’ll neither entertain you with Drinking, Swearing, or Baudy; are Whores in all those gay Clothes, and right Jewels; are Whores with great Houses richly furnisht with Velvet Beds, Store of Plate, handsome Attendance, and fine Coaches, are Whores and errant ones.

WILL. Pox on’t, where do these fine Whores live?

BELV. Where no Rogue in Office ycleped Constables dare give ’em laws, nor the Wine inspired Bullies of the Town break their Windows; yet they are Whores, tho this Essex Calf believe them Persons of Quality.

BLUNT. ’Sheartlikins, y’are all Fools, there are things about this Essex Calf, that shall take with the Ladies, beyond all your Wits and Parts This Shape and Size, Gentlemen, are not to be despised; my Waste tolerably long, with other inviting Signs, that shall be nameless.

WILL. Egad I believe he may have met with some Person of Quality that may be kind to him.

BELV. Dost thou perceive any such tempting things about him, should make a fine Woman, and of Quality, pick him out from all Mankind, to throw away her Youth and Beauty upon, nay, and her dear Heart too? no, no, ANGELICA has raised the Price too high.

WILL. May she languish for Mankind till she die, and be damn’d for that one Sin alone.

Enter two Bravoes, and hang up a great Picture of ANGELICA’s, against the Balcony, and two little ones at each side of the Door.

BELV. See there the fair Sign to the Inn, where a Man may lodge that’s Fool enough to give her Price.                                         [WILL. gazes on the Picture.

BLUNT. ’Sheartlikins, Gentlemen, what’s this?

BELV. A famous Curtezan that’s to be sold.

BLUNT.[A] How! to be sold! nay then I have nothing to say to her sold! what Impudence is practised in this Country? With Order and Decency Whoring’s established here by virtue of the Inquisition Come let’s be gone, I’m sure we’re no Chapmen for this Commodity.

FRED. Thou art none, I’m sure, unless thou could’st have her in thy Bed at the Price of a Coach in the Street.

WILL. How wondrous fair she is a Thousand Crowns a Month by Heaven as many Kingdoms were too little. A plague of this Poverty of which I never complain, but when it hinders my Approach to Beauty, which Virtue ne’er could purchase.                                                          [Turns from the Picture.

BLUNT. What’s this?      [Reads]     A Thousand Crowns a Month!
’Sheartlikins, here’s a Sum! sure ’tis a mistake.
Hark you, Friend, does she take or give so much by the Month!

FRED. A Thousand Crowns! Why, ’tis a Portion for the Infanta.

BLUNT. Hark ye, Friends, won’t she trust?

Brav. This is a Trade, Sir, that cannot live by Credit.

Enter DON PEDRO in Masquerade, follow’d by Stephano.

BELV. See, here’s more Company, let’s walk off a while.

[PEDRO Reads.                                                                  [Exeunt English.

Enter ANGELICA and MORETTA in the Balcony, and draw a Silk Curtain.

PED. Fetch me a Thousand Crowns, I never wish to buy this Beauty at an easier Rate.                                                                                                  [Passes off.

ANG. Prithee what said those Fellows to thee?

BRAV. Madam, the first were Admirers of Beauty only, but no purchasers; they were merry with your Price and Picture, laught at the Sum, and so past off.

ANG.[B] No matter, I’m not displeased with their rallying; their Wonder feeds my Vanity, and he that wishes to buy, gives me more Pride, than he that gives my Price can make me Pleasure.

BRAV. Madam, the last I knew thro all his disguises to be DON PEDRO, Nephew to the General, and who was with him in Pampelona.

ANG. DON PEDRO! my old Gallant’s Nephew! When his Uncle dy’d, he left him a vast Sum of Money; it is he who was so in love with me at Padua, and who us’d to make the General so jealous.

MORET. Is this he that us’d to prance before our Window and take such care to shew himself an amorous Ass? if I am not mistaken, he is the likeliest Man to give your Price.

ANG. The Man is brave and generous, but of an Humour so uneasy and inconstant, that the victory over his Heart is as soon lost as won; a Slave that can add little to the Triumph of the Conqueror: but inconstancy’s the Sin of all Mankind, therefore I’m resolved that nothing but Gold shall charm my Heart.

MORET. I’m glad on’t; ’tis only interest that Women of our Profession ought to consider: tho I wonder what has kept you from that general Disease of our Sex so long, I mean that of being in love.

ANG. A kind, but sullen Star, under which I had the Happiness to be born; yet I have had no time for Love; the bravest and noblest of Mankind have purchas’d my Favours at so dear a Rate, as if no Coin but Gold were current with our Trade But here’s DON PEDRO again, fetch me my Lute for ’tis for him or Don Antonio the Vice Roy’s Son, that I have spread my Nets.

Enter at one Door DON PEDRO, and Stephano; DON ANTONIO and DIEGO[his page], at the other Door, with People following him in Masquerade, antickly attired, some with Musick: they both go up to the Picture.

ANT. A thousand Crowns! had not the Painter flattered her, I should not think it dear.

PEDRO. Flatter’d her! by Heaven he cannot. I have seen the Original, nor is there one Charm here more than adorns her Face and Eyes; all this soft and sweet, with a certain languishing Air, that no Artist can represent.

ANT. What I heard of her Beauty before had fir’d my Soul, but this confirmation of it has blown it into a flame.

PEDRO. Ha!

PAG. Sir, I have known you throw away a Thousand Crowns on a worse Face, and tho y’ are near your Marriage, you may venture a little Love here;Florinda will not miss it.

PEDRO. Ha! FLORINDA! Sure ’tis ANTONIO.                                             [aside.

ANT. Florinda! name not those distant Joys, there’s not one thought of her will check my Passion here.

PEDRO. FLORINDA scorn’d! and all my Hopes defeated of the Possession ofANGELICA! [A noise of a Lute above. ANT. gazes up.] Her Injuries by Heaven he shall not boast of.                                          [Song to a Lute above.

SONG.

When Damon first began to love,
He languisht in a soft Desire,
And knew not how the Gods to move,
To lessen or increase his Fire,
For Cælia in her charming Eyes
Wore all Love’s Sweet, and all his Cruelties.

II.

But as beneath a Shade he lay,
Weaving of Flow’rs for Cælia’s Hair,
She chanced to lead her Flock that way,
And saw the am’rous Shepherd there.
She gazed around upon the Place,
And saw the Grove (resembling Night)
To all the Joys of Love invite,
Whilst guilty Smiles and Blushes drest her Face.
At this the bashful Youth all Transport grew,
And with kind Force he taught the Virgin how
To yield what all his Sighs could never do.

ANT. By Heav’n she’s charming fair!

[ANGELICA throws open the Curtains, and bows to Antonio, who pulls off his Vizard, and bows and blows up Kisses. PEDRO unseen looks in his Face.

PEDRO. ’Tis he, the false ANTONIO!

ANT. Friend, where must I pay my offering of Love?     [To the Bravo.]     My Thousand Crowns I mean.

PEDRO. That Offering I have design’d to make, And yours will come too late.

ANT. Prithee be gone, I shall grow angry else,
And then thou art not safe.

PEDRO. My anger may be fatal, Sir, as yours;
And he that enters here may prove this Truth.

ANT. I know not who thou art, but I am sure thou’rt worth my killing, and aiming at ANGELICA.                                                                  [They draw and fight.

Enter WILLMORE and BLUNT, who draw and part ’em.

BLUNT. ’Sheartlikins, here’s fine doings.

WILL. Tilting for the Wench I’m sure nay gad, if that would win her, I have as good a Sword as the best of ye Put up put up, and take another time and place, for this is designed for Lovers only.                                   [They all put up.

PEDRO. We are prevented; dare you meet me to morrow on the Molo? For I’ve a Title to a better quarrel, That of FLORINDA, in whose credulous Heart Thou’st made an Int’rest, and destroy’d my Hopes.

ANT. Dare? I’ll meet thee there as early as the Day.

PEDRO. We will come thus disguised, that whosoever chance to get the better, he may escape unknown.

ANT. It shall be so. [Ex. PEDRO and Stephano.] Who shou’d this Rival be? unless the English Colonel, of whom I’ve often heard DON PEDRO speak; it must be he, and time he were removed, who lays a Claim to all my Happiness.

[WILLMORE having gazed all this while on the Picture, pulls down a little one.

WILL. This posture’s loose and negligent, The sight on’t would beget a warm desire In Souls, whom Impotence and Age had chill’d. This must along with me.

BRAV. What means this rudeness, Sir? restore the Picture.

ANT. Ha! Rudeness committed to the fair ANGELICA! Restore the Picture, Sir.

WILL. Indeed I will not, Sir.

ANT. By Heaven but you shall.

WILL. Nay, do not shew your Sword; if you do, by this dear Beauty I will shew mine too.

ANT. What right can you pretend to’t?

WILL. That of Possession which I will maintain you perhaps have 1000 Crowns to give for the Original.

ANT. No matter, Sir, you shall restore the Picture.

ANG. Oh, MORETTA! what’s the matter?                    [ANG. and MORET. above.

ANT. Or leave your Life behind.

WILL. Death! you lye I will do neither.

ANG. Hold, I command you, if for me you fight.

[They fight, the Spaniards join with ANTONIO, BLUNT laying on like mad. They leave off and bow.

WILL. How heavenly fair she is! ah Plague of her Price.

ANG. You Sir in Buff, you that appear a Soldier, that first began this Insolence.

WILL. ’Tis true, I did so, if you call it Insolence for a Man to preserve himself; I saw your charming Picture, and was wounded: quite thro my Soul each pointed Beauty ran; and wanting a Thousand Crowns to procure my Remedy, I laid this little Picture to my Bosom which if you cannot allow me, I’ll resign.

ANG. No, you may keep the Trifle.

ANT. You shall first ask my leave, and this.                 [Fight again as before.

Enter BELV. and FRED. who join with the English.

ANG. Hold; will you ruin me? Biskey, Sebastian, part them.
[The Spaniards are beaten off.

MORET. Oh Madam, we’re undone, a pox upon that rude Fellow, he’s set on to ruin us: we shall never see good days, till all these fighting poor Rogues are sent to the Gallies.

Enter BELVILE, BLUNT and WILLMORE, with his shirt bloody.

BLUNT. ’Sheartlikins, beat me at this Sport, and I’ll ne’er wear Sword more.

BELV. The Devil’s in thee for a mad Fellow, thou art always one at an unlucky Adventure. Come, let’s be gone whilst we’re safe, and remember these are Spaniards, a sort of People that know how to revenge an Affront.

FRED. You bleed; I hope you are not wounded.                              [To WILL.

WILL. Not much: a plague upon your Dons, if they fight no better they’ll ne’er recover Flanders. What the Devil was’t to them that I took down the Picture?

BLUNT. Took it! ’Sheartlikins, we’ll have the great one too; ’tis ours by Conquest. Prithee, help me up, and I’ll pull it down.

ANG. Stay, Sir, and e’er you affront me further, let me know how you durst commit this Outrage—To you I speak, Sir, for you appear like a Gentleman.

WILL. To me, Madam?—Gentlemen, your Servant.         [BELV.stays him.

BELV. Is the Devil in thee? Do’st know the danger of entring the house of an incens’d Curtezan?

WILL. I thank you for your care—but there are other matters in hand, there are, tho we have no great Temptation.—Death! let me go.

FRED. Yes, to your Lodging, if you will, but not in here.—Damn these gay Harlots—by this Hand I’ll have as sound and handsome a Whore for a Patacoone.—Death, Man, she’ll murder thee.

WILL. Oh! fear me not, shall I not venture where a Beauty calls? a lovely charming Beauty? for fear of danger! when by Heaven there’s none so great as to long for her, whilst I want Money to purchase her.

FRED. Therefore ’tis loss of time, unless you had the thousand Crowns to pay.

WILL. It may be she may give a Favour, at least I shall have the pleasure of saluting her when I enter, and when I depart.

BELV. Pox, she’ll as soon lie with thee, as kiss thee, and sooner stab than do either—you shall not go.

ANG. Fear not, Sir, all I have to wound with, is my Eyes.

BLUNT. Let him go, ’Sheartlikins, I believe the Gentle-woman means well.

BELV. Well, take thy Fortune, we’ll expect you in the next Street.—Farewell Fool,—farewell—

WILL. B’ye Colonel—                                                                                 [Goes in.

FRED. The Rogue’s stark mad for a Wench.                                          [Exeunt.

NOTES :

A : BLUNT. How ! to be sold ! nay then I have nothing to say to her-sold ! what Impudence is practiced In this Country?- With Order and Decency Whoring’s established here by virtue of the Inquistion-Come let’s be Gone, I’m sure we’re no Chapmen for this Commodity.
FRED. Thou art none, I’m sure, unless thou could’st have her in thy Bed at the Price of a Coach in the Street.
WILL. How wondrous fair she is- a thousand Crowns a Month-by Heaven as many Kingdoms were too little

B : ANG. No matter, I’m not displeased with their rallying ; their Wonder feeds my Vanity, and he that wishes to buy, Gives me more Pride, than he that gives my Price can make me Pleasure.
BRAV. Madam, the last I knew thro all his disguises t be DON PEDRO, Nephew to the General, and who was with him in Pampelona.
ANG DON PEDRO ! my old Gallant’s Nephew ! When his Uncle Died, he left him a vast Sum of Money ; it is he who was so in love with me at Padva, and who used to make the General so Jealous.