SCENE I.—[Scene continues]

Lady Wishfort and Foible.

Lady. Out of my house, out of my house, thou viper, thou serpent, that I have fostered; thou bosom traitress, that I raised from nothing—begone, begone, begone, go, go,—that I took from washing of old gause and weaving of dead hair, with a bleak blue nose, over a chafing-dish of starved embers, and dining behind a traver’s rag, in a shop no bigger than a birdcage,—go, go, starve again, do, do.

Foib. Dear madam, I’ll beg pardon on my knees.

Lady. Away, out, out, go set up for yourself again—do, drive a trade, do, with your threepenny-worth of small ware, flaunting upon a packthread, under a brandy-feller’s bulk, or against a dead wall by a ballad- monger. Go, hang out an old frisoneergorget with a yard of yellow colberteen again; do; an old gnawed mask, two rows of pins and a child’s fiddle; a glass necklace with the beads broken, and a quilted nightcap with one ear. Go, go, drive a trade.—These were your commodities, you treacherous trull, this was the merchandize you dealt in, when I took you into my house, placed you next myself, and made you governante of my whole family. You have forgot this, have you, now you have feathered your nest?

Foib. No, no, dear madam. Do but hear me, have but a moment’s patience—I’ll confess all. Mr. Mirabell seduced me; I am not the first that he has wheadled with his dissembling tongue; your ladiship’s own wisdom has been deluded by him, then how should I, a poor ignorant, defend myself? O madam, if you knew but what he promised me, and how he assured me your ladiship should come to no damage—or else the wealth of the Indies should not have bribed me to conspire against so good, so sweet, so kind a lady as you have been to me.

Lady. No damage? What, to betray me, to marry me to a cast-serving-man; to make me a receptacle, an hospital for a decayed pimp? No damage? O thou frontless impudence, more than a big-bellied actress.

Foib. Pray do but hear me, madam, he could not marry your ladiship, madam—no indeed, his marriage was to have been void in law; for he was married to me first, to secure your ladiship. He could not have bedded your ladiship; for if he had consummated with your ladiship, he must have run the risque of the law, and been put upon his clergy—Yes indeed, I enquired of the law in that case before I would meddle or make.

Lady. What, then I have been your property, have I? I have been convenient to you, it seems,—while you were catering for Mirabell; I have been broaker for you? What, have you made a passive bawd of me?—This exceeds all precedent; I am brought to fine uses, to become a botcher of second-hand marriages between Abigails and Andrews! I’ll couple you. Yes, I’ll baste you together, you and your Philander. I’ll Duke’s Place you, as I’m a person. Your turtle is in custody already: you shall coo in the same cage, if there be constable or warrant in the parish.

Foib. O that ever I was born, O that I was ever married,— a bride, ay, I shall be a Bridewell-bride. Oh!

SCENE II

Mrs Fainall, Foible.

Mrs. Fain. Poor Foible, what’s the matter?

Foib. O madam, my lady’s gone for a constable; I shall be had to a justice, and put to Bridewell to beat hemp; poor Waitwell’s gone to prison already.

Mrs. Fain. Have a good heart, Foible, Mirabell’s gone to give security for him. This is all Marwood’s and my husband’s doing.