![William Wycherley [Four Plays] - William Wycherley](/cover_866146.jpg "William Wycherley [Four Plays] - William Wycherley")
freely with me; there are so few men will deal freely with one—
Sir Sim. Are you not a fireship,[32] a punk, madam?
L. Flip. Well, sir, I love raillery.
Sir Sim. Faith and troth, I do not rally, I deal freely.
L. Flip. This is the time and place for freedom, sir.
Sir Sim. Are you handsome?
L. Flip. Joan's as good as my lady in the dark, certainly: but men that deal freely never ask questions, certainly.
Sir Sim. How then! I thought to deal freely, and put a woman to the question, had been all one.
L. Flip. But, let me tell you, those that deal freely indeed, take a woman by—
Sir Sim. What, what, what, what?
L. Flip. By the hand—and lead her aside.
Sir Sim. Now I understand you; come along then.
Enter behind Musicians with torches.
L. Flip. What unmannerly rascals are those that bring light into the Park? 'twill not be taken well from 'em by the women, certainly.—[Aside.] Still disappointed!
Sir Sim. Oh, the fiddles, the fiddles! I sent for them hither to oblige the women, not to offend 'em; for I intend to serenade the whole Park to-night. But my frolic is not without an intrigue, faith and troth: for I know the fiddles will call the whole herd of vizard masks together; and then shall I discover if a strayed mistress of mine be not amongst 'em, whom I treated to-night at the French-house; but as soon as the jilt had eat up my meat and drunk her two bottles, she ran away from me, and left me alone.
L. Flip. How! is it he? Addleplot!—that I could not know him by his faith and troth! [Aside.
Sir Sim. Now I would understand her tricks; because I intend to marry her, and should be glad to know what I must trust to.
L. Flip. So thou shalt;—but not yet. [Aside.
Sir Sim. Though I can give a great guess already; for if I have any intrigue or sense in me, she is as arrant a jilt as ever pulled pillow from under husband's head, faith and troth. Moreover she is bow-legged, hopper-hipped, and, betwixt pomatum and Spanish red, has a complexion like a Holland cheese, and no more teeth left than such as give a haut goût to her breath; but she is rich, faith and troth.
L. Flip. [Aside.] Oh rascal! he has heard somebody else say all this of me. But I must not discover myself, lest I should be disappointed of my revenge; for I will marry him. [The Musicians approaching, exit Flippant.
Sir Sim. What, gone!—come then, strike up, my lads.
Enter Men and Women in vizards—a Dance, during which Sir Simon Addleplot, for the most part, stands still in a cloak and vizard; but sometimes goes about peeping, and examining the Women's clothes—the Dance ended, all exeunt.
Re-enter Lady Flippant and Lydia, after them Vincent and Dapperwit.
L. Flip. [To Lydia.] Nay, if you stay any longer, I must leave you again. [Going off.
Vin. We have overtaken them at last again. These are they: they separate too; and that's but a challenge to us.
Dap. Let me perish! ladies—
Lyd. Nay, good madam, let's unite, now here's the common enemy upon us.
Vin. Damn me! ladies—
Dap. Hold, a pox! you are too rough.—Let me perish! ladies—
Lyd. Not for want of breath, gentlemen:—we'll stay rather.
Dap. For want of your favour rather, sweet ladies.
L. Flip. [Aside.] That's Dapperwit, false villain! but he must not know I am here. If he should, I should lose his thrice agreeable company, and he would run from me as fast as from the bailiffs. [To Lydia.] What! you will not talk with 'em, I hope?
Lyd. Yes, but I will.
L. Flip. Then you are a Park-woman certainly, and you will take it kindly if I leave you.
Lyd. No, you must not leave me.
L. Flip. Then you must leave them.
Lyd. I'll see if they are worse company than you, first.
L. Flip. Monstrous impudence!—will you not come? [Pulls Lydia.
Vin. Nay, madam, I never suffer any violence to be used to a woman but what I do myself: she must stay, and you must not go.
L. Flip. Unhand me, you rude fellow!
Vin. Nay, now I am sure you will stay and be kind; for coyness in a woman is as little sign of true modesty, as huffing in a man is of true courage.
Dap. Use her gently, and speak soft things to her.
Lyd. [Aside.] Now do I guess I know my coxcomb.—[To Dapperwit.] Sir, I am extremely glad I am fallen into the hands of a gentleman that can speak soft things; and this is so fine a night to hear soft things in;—morning, I should have said.
Dap. It will not be morning, dear madam, till you pull off your mask.—[Aside.] That I think was brisk.
Lyd. Indeed, dear sir, my face would frighten back the sun.
Dap. With glories more radiant than his own.—[Aside.] I keep up with her, I think.
Lyd. But why would you put me to the trouble of lighting the world, when I thought to have gone to sleep?
Dap. You only can do it, dear madam, let me perish!
Lyd. But why would you (of all men) practise treason against your friend Phœbus, and depose him for a mere stranger?
Dap. I think she knows me. [Aside.
Lyd. But he does not do you justice, I believe; and you are so positively cock-sure of your wit, you would refer to a mere stranger your plea to the bay-tree.
Dap. She jeers me, let me perish! [Aside.
Vin. Dapperwit, a little of your aid; for my lady's invincibly dumb.
Dap. Would mine had been so too! [Aside.
Vin. I have used as many arguments to make her speak, as are requisite to make other women hold their tongues.
Dap. Well, I am ready to change sides.—Yet
