Kitabı oxu: «The Basset-Table»
Susanna Centlivre
The Basset-Table
Published by Good Press, 2022
EAN 4064066367794
Table of Contents
WORKS
Mrs. CENTLIVRE.
BASSET-TABLE.
WORKS
Table of Contents
OF THE CELEBRATED
Mrs. CENTLIVRE.
Table of Contents
IN THREE VOLUMES
VOLUME THE FIRST
LONDON:
M.DCC.LXI.
Dramatis Personæ.
| M E N. | ||
| Lord Worthy, in Love with Lady Reveller, a Hater of Gaming, | } | Mr. Mills. |
| Sir James Courtly, an airy Gentleman, given to Gaming, | } | Mr. Wilks. |
| Lovely, an Ensign, in Love with Valeria, | Mr. Bickerstaff. | |
| Sir Richard Plainman, formerly a Citizen, but now lives in Covent-Garden, a great Lover of a Soldier, and an inveterate Enemy to the French, | } | Mr. Bullock. |
| Captain Hearty, a Sea Officer, design'd by Sir Richard, to marry Valeria, | } | Mr. Estcourt. |
| Sago, a Drugster in the City, very fond of his Wife, | } | Mr. Johnson. |
| Buckle, footman to Lord Worthy, | Mr. Penkethman. | |
| W O M E N. | ||
| Lady Reveller, a Coquetish Widow, that keeps a Basset-Table, | } | Mrs. Oldfield. |
| Lady Lucy, her Cousin, a religious sober Lady, | } | Mrs. Rogers. |
| Valeria, a philosophical Girl, Daughter to Sir Richard, in Love with Lovely, | } | Mrs. Montford. |
| Mrs. Sago, the Drugster's Wife, a gaming profuse Woman, great with my Lady Reveller, in Love with Sir James, | } | Mrs. Cross. |
| Alpiew, Woman to Lady Reveller, | Mrs. Lucas. | |
| Ladies, and Gentlemen, for the Basset-Table. Chairmen, Footmen, &c. | ||
SCENE, Lady Reveller's Lodgings, in Covent-Garden; the Time, Four o'Clock in the Morning.
THE
BASSET-TABLE.
Table of Contents
THE
PROLOGUE.
Spoken by Mr. Penkethman.
| In all the Faces that to Plays resort, Whether of Country, City, Mob, or Court, I've always found, that none such Hopes inspire, As you—dear Brethren of the Upper Tire. | |
| Poets, in Prologues, may both preach and rail, Yet all their Wisdom nothing will avail; Who writes not up to you 'tis Ten to One will fail. | } |
| Your thundering Plaudit is that deals out Fame; You make Plays run, tho' of themselves but Lame: How often have we known your Noise commanding, Impose on your inferior Masters Understanding; Therefore, dear Brethren, (since I am one of you) Whether adorn'd in Grey, Green, Brown, or Blue, This Day stand all by me, as I will fall by you. And now to let—— The poor Pit see how Pinky's Voice commands, Silence—Now rattle all your Sticks, and clap your grimy Hands. | |
| I greet your Love—and let the vainest Author shew, Half this Command on cleaner Hands below, Nay, more to prove your Interest, let this Play live by you. | } |
| So may you share good Claret with your Masters, Still free in your Amours from their Disasters; Free from poor Housekeeping; where Peck is under Locks, Free from Cold Kitchens, and no Christmas-Box: So may no long Debates i' th' House of Commons, Make you in the Lobby starve, when Hunger summons; But may your plenteous Vails come flowing in, Give you a lucky Hit, and make you Gentlemen; And thus preferr'd, ne'er fear the World's Reproaches, But shake your Elbows with my Lord, and keep your Coaches. | |
ACT I.
SCENE, A large Hall, a Porter with a Staff, several Chairs waiting, and Footmen asleep, with Torches and Flambeaux standing about the Room.
Footman.
Certainly they'll play all Night, this is a cursed Life.
Port. How long have you liv'd with your Lady?
Footm. A Month; too long by thirty Days, if this be her Way of Living, I shall be dead before the Year's out; she games all Night, and sleeps all Day.
Port. Then you sleep too, what's the Matter?
Footm. I deny that; for while she sleeps I'm employ'd in Howd'ye's, from one End of the Town to the other.
Port. But you rest while she's gaming; What would you do if you led my Life? This is my Lady's constant Practice.
Footm. Your Lady keeps a Basset-Table, much good may do you with your Service——Hark, they are broke up. [Within.] Ha, hy, my Lady Gamewell's Chair ready there—Mr. Sonica's Servant.
[The Footmen wake in a Hurry.
1st Footm. Where the Devil is my Flambeaux?
2d Footm. So-hey——Robin, get the Chair ready, my Lady's coming; stay, stay, let me light my Flambeaux.
3d Footm. [Yawning.] Hey, hoa, what han't they done play yet?
Port. They are now coming down, but your Lady is gone half an Hour ago.
3d Footm. The Devil she is! Why did not you call me?
Port. I did not see you.
3d Footm. Was you blind—She has lost her Money, that's certain——She never flinches upon a winning Hand——Her Plate and Jewels walk To-morrow to replenish her Pocket—a Pox of Gaming, I say.
[Exit.
[Within.] Mr. Looseall's Man——
4th Footm. Here—So-ho, who has stole my Flambeaux?
[Within.] My Lady Umbray's Coach there—
5th Footm. Hey, Will, pull up there.
[Exeunt omnes.
Enter Lady Reveller and Alpiew, her Woman.
Lady. My Lady Raffle is horridly out of Humour at her ill Fortune, she lost 300l.
Alp. She has generally ill Luck, yet her Inclination for Play is as strong as ever.——Did your Ladyship win or lose, Madam?
Lady. I won about 50 Pieces—Pr'ythee, what shall we do, Alpiew? 'Tis a fine Morning, 'tis pity to go to Bed.
Alp. What does your Ladyship think of a Walk in the Park?—The Park is pleasant in a Morning, the Air is so very sweet.
Lady. I don't think so; the sweetness of the Park is at Eleven, when the Beau-Monde make their Tour there; 'tis an unpolish'd Curiosity to walk when only Birds can see one.
Alp. Bless me, Madam! Your Uncle—Now for a Sermon of two Hours.
Enter Sir Richard Plainman, in a Night-Gown, as from Bed.
Sir Rich. So, Niece! I find you're resolv'd to keep on your Course of Life; I must be wak'd at four, with Coach, Coach, Chair, Chair; give over, for Shame, and marry, marry, Niece.
Lady. Now would I forfeit the Heart of my next Admirer, to know the Cause of this Reproach. [Aside.] Pray, Uncle, explain yourself; for I protest I can't guess what Crime I have unhappily committed to merit this Advice.
Sir Rich. How can you look me in the Face and ask me that Question? Can you that keep a Basset-Table, a public Gaming-House, be insensible of the Shame on't? I have often told you how much the vast Concourse of People, which Day and Night make my House their Rendezvous, incommode my Health; your Apartment is a Parade for Men of all Ranks, from the Duke to the Fidler; and your Vanity thinks they all pay Devoir to your Beauty—but you mistake; every one has his several Ends in meeting here, from the Lord to the Sharper, and each their separate Interests to pursue—Some Fools there may be, for there's seldom a Crowd without.
Lady. Malice—some Fools? I can't bear it.
Alp. Nay, 'tis very affronting, truly, Madam.
Lady. Ay, is it not, Alpiew?—Yet, now I think on't, 'tis the Defect of Age to rail at the Pleasures of Youth, therefore I shall not disorder my Face with a Frown about it. Ha, ha, I hope, Uncle, you'll take peculiar Care of my Cousin Valeria, in disposing of her according to the Breeding you have given her.
Sir Rich. The Breeding I have given her! I would not have her have your Breeding, Mistress, for all the Wealth of England's Bank; no, I bred my Girl in the Country, a Stranger to the Vices of this Town, and am resolv'd to marry her to a Man of Honour, Probity, and Courage.
Lady. What, the Sea Captain, Uncle? Faugh, I hate the Smell of Pitch and Tar; one that can entertain one with nothing but Fire and Smoke, Larboard and Starboard, and t'other Bowl of Punch; ha, ha, ha.
Alp. And for every Fault that she commits, he'll condemn her to the Bilboes; ha, ha.
Lady. I fancy my Cousin's Philosophy, and the Captain's courageous Bluster, will make Angelic Harmony.
Sir Rich. Yes, Madam; sweeter Harmony than your Sept & Leva Fops, Rakes, and Gamesters; give me the Man that serves my Country, that preserves both my Estate and Life—Oh, the glorious Name of Soldier; if I were young, I'd go myself in Person, but as it is——
Alp. You'll send your Daughter——
Sir Rich. Yes, Minx, and a good Dowry with her, as a Reward for Virtue, like the Captain's.
Alp. But suppose, Sir, Mrs. Valeria should not like him?
Sir Rich. I'll suppose no such Thing, Mistress, she shall like him.
Lady. Why, there 'tis now; indeed, Uncle, you're too positive.
Sir Rich. And you too impertinent: Therefore I resolve you shall quit my House; you shan't keep your Revels under the Roof where I am.
Alp. I'd have you to know, Sir, my Lady keeps no Revels beneath her Quality.
Sir Rich. Hold your Tongue, Mrs. Pert, or I shall display your Quality in its proper Colours.
Alp. I don't care, say your worst of me, and spare not; but for my Lady——my Lady's a Widow, and Widows are accountable to none for their Actions——Well, I shall have a Husband one of these Days, and be a Widow too, I hope.
Sir Rich. Not unlikely, for the Man will hang himself the next Day, I warrant him.
Alp. And if any Uncle pretends to controul my Actions——
Sir Rich. He'd lose his Labour, I'm certain——
Alp. I'd treat him——
Sir Rich. Don't provoke me, Hussy, don't.
Lady. Begone, and wait in the next Room.
[Exit Alpiew.
Sir Rich. The Insolence of a Servant is a great Honour to the Lady, no doubt; but I shall find a Way to humble you both.
Lady. Lookye, Uncle, do what you can, I'm resolv'd to follow my own Inclinations.
Sir Rich. Which infallibly carry you to Noise, Nonsense, Foppery, and Ruin; but no matter, you shall go out of my Doors, I'll promise you; my House shall no longer bear the scandalous Name of a Basset-Table: Husbands shall no more have Cause to date their Ruin from my Door, nor cry, There, there my Wife gam'd my Estate away—Nor Children curse my Posterity, for their Parents knowing my House.
Lady. No more Threatening, good Uncle; act as you please, but don't scold, or I shall be oblig'd to call Alpiew again.
Sir Rich. Very well, very well, see what will come on't; the World will censure those that game, and, in my Conscience, I believe not without Cause.
| For she whose Shame no good Advice can wake, When Money's wanting will her Virtue stake. |
[Exit.
Lady. Advice! Ha, ha, ridiculous Advice.
Enter Lady Lucy.
No sooner rid of one Mischief but another follows—[Aside.] I foresee this to be a Day of Mortification, Alpiew.
Enter Alpiew.
Alp. Madam.
Lady. My Uncle's gone, you may come in, ha, ha, ha.
L. Lucy. Fye, Cousin, does it become you to laugh at those that give you Counsel for your Good?
Lady. For my Good! Oh, mon cœur! Now cannot I divine what 'tis that I do more than the rest of the World to deserve this Blame.
Alp. Nor I, for the Soul of me.
L. Lucy. Shou'd all the rest of the World follow your Ladyship's Example, the Order of Nature would be inverted, and every Good design'd by Heaven, become a Curse; Health and Plenty no longer would be known among us——You cross the Purpose of the Day and Night; you wake when you should sleep, and make all who have any Dependance on you wake, while you repose.
Lady. Bless me! may not any Person sleep when they please?
L. Lucy. No; there are certain Hours that good Manners, Modesty, and Health, require your Care; for Example, disorderly Hours are neither healthful nor modest——And 'tis not civil to make Company wait Dinner for your Dressing.
Lady. Why does any Body dine before Four o'Clock in London? For my Part, I think it an ill-bred Custom to make my Appetite Pendulum to the Twelfth Hour.
Alp. Besides, 'tis out of Fashion to dine by Day-light; and so I told Sir Richard Yesterday, Madam.
L. Lucy. No doubt but you did, Mrs. Alpiew; and then you entertain such a Train of People, Cousin, that my Lady Reveller is as noted as a public Ordinary, where every Fool with Money finds a Welcome.
Lady. Would you have me shut my Doors against my Friends?—Now she is jealous of Sir James Courtly [Aside.] Besides, is it possible to pass the Evenings without Diversions?
Alp. No, certainly——
L. Lucy. I think the Playhouse the much more innocent and commendable Diversion.
Lady. To be seen there every Night, in my Opinion, is more destructive to the Reputation.
L. Lucy. Well; I had rather be noted every Night in the Front Box, than, by my Absence, once be suspected of Gaming; one ruins my Estate and Character, the other diverts my Temper, and improves my Mind. Then you have such a Number of Lovers.
Lady. Oh, Cupid! is it a Crime to have a Number of Lovers? If it be, 'tis the pleasantest Crime in the World. A Crime that falls not every Day to every Woman's Lot.
L. Lucy. I dare be positive every Woman does not wish it.
Lady. Because Wishes have no Effect, Cousin, ha, ha.
L. Lucy. Methinks my Lord Worthy's Assiduity might have banish'd the admiring Crowd by this Time.
Lady. Banish'd 'em! Oh, mon cœur! what Pleasure is there in one Lover? 'tis like being seen always in one Suit of Cloaths; a Woman, with one Admirer, will ne'er be a reigning Toast.
L. Lucy. I am sure those that encourage more, will never have the Character of a reigning Virtue.
Lady. I slight the malicious Censure of the Town, yet defy it to asperse my Virtue; Nature has given me a Face, a Shape, a Mien, an Air for Dress, and Wit and Humour to subdue: And shall I lose my Conquest for a Name?
Alp. Nay, and among the unfashionable Sort of People too, Madam; for Persons of Breeding and Quality will allow, that Gallantry and Virtue are not inseparable.
L. Lucy. But Coquetry and Reputation are; and there is no Difference in the Eye of the World, between having really committed the Fault, and lying under the Scandal; for my own Part, I would take as much Care to preserve my Fame, as you would your Virtue.
Lady. A little Pains will serve you for that, Cousin; for I never once heard you nam'd——A Mortification would break my Heart, ha, ha.
L. Lucy. 'Tis better never to be nam'd, than to be ill spoken of; but your Reflections shall not disorder my Temper. I could wish, indeed, to convince you of your Error, because you share my Blood; but since I see the Vanity of the Attempt, I shall desist.
Lady. I humbly thank your Ladyship.
Alp. Oh! Madam, here's my Lord Worthy, Sir James Courtly, and Ensign Lovely coming down; will your Ladyship see them?
Lady. Now have I a strong Inclination to engage Sir James, to discompose her Gravity; for if I have any Skill in Glances, she loves him. But then my Lord Worthy is so peevish since our late Quarrel, that I'm afraid to engage the Knight in a Duel; besides, my Absence, I know, will teize him more; therefore upon Consideration I'll retire. Cousin Lucy, good Morrow. I'll leave you to better Company, there's a Person at hand may prevent your Six o'Clock Prayers.
[Exit.
L. Lucy. Ha! Sir James Courtly—I must own I think him agreeable; but am sorry she believes I do. I'll not be seen, for if what I scarce know myself, be grown so visible to her, perhaps he too may discover it, and then I am lost.
| While in the Breast our Secrets close remain, 'Tis out of Fortune's Power to give us Pain. |
[Exit.
Enter Lord Worthy, Sir James, and Ensign Lovely.
Sir Jam. Ha! was not that Lady Lucy?
Ensign. It was—Ah, Sir James, I find your Heart is out of Order about that Lady, and my Lord Worthy languishes for Lady Reveller.
Sir Jam. And thou art sick for Valeria, Sir Richard's Daughter. A poor distressed Company of us.
Ensign. 'Tis true, that little She-Philosopher has made me do Penance more heartily than ever my Sins did; I deserve her by mere Dint of Patience. I have stood whole Hours to hear her assert, that Fire cannot burn, nor Water drown, nor Pain afflict, and Forty ridiculous Systems——
Pulsuz fraqment bitdi.
