Love for Love | Page 9

four places, that I said this and that, and writ to her, and did I know not what--but, upon my reputation, she did me wrong--well, well, that was malice--but I know the bottom of it. She was bribed to that by one we all know--a man too. Only to bring me into disgrace with a certain woman of quality -
SCAN. Whom we all know.
TATT. No matter for that. Yes, yes, everybody knows. No doubt on't, everybody knows my secrets. But I soon satisfied the lady of my innocence; for I told her: Madam, says I, there are some persons who make it their business to tell stories, and say this and that of one and t'other, and everything in the world; and, says I, if your grace -
SCAN. Grace!
TATT. O Lord, what have I said? My unlucky tongue!
VAL. Ha, ha, ha.
SCAN. Why, Tattle, thou hast more impudence than one can in reason expect: I shall have an esteem for thee, well, and, ha, ha, ha, well, go on, and what did you say to her grace?
VAL. I confess this is something extraordinary.
TATT. Not a word, as I hope to be saved; an errant lapsus linguae. Come, let's talk of something else.
VAL. Well, but how did you acquit yourself?
TATT. Pooh, pooh, nothing at all; I only rallied with you--a woman of ordinary rank was a little jealous of me, and I told her something or other, faith I know not what.--Come, let's talk of something else. [Hums a song.]
SCAN. Hang him, let him alone, he has a mind we should enquire.
TATT. Valentine, I supped last night with your mistress, and her uncle, old Foresight: I think your father lies at Foresight's.
VAL. Yes.
TATT. Upon my soul, Angelica's a fine woman. And so is Mrs Foresight, and her sister, Mrs Frail.
SCAN. Yes, Mrs Frail is a very fine woman, we all know her.
TATT. Oh, that is not fair.
SCAN. What?
TATT. To tell.
SCAN. To tell what? Why, what do you know of Mrs Frail?
TATT. Who, I? Upon honour I don't know whether she be man or woman, but by the smoothness of her chin and roundness of her hips.
SCAN. No?
TATT. No.
SCAN. She says otherwise.
TATT. Impossible!
SCAN. Yes, faith. Ask Valentine else.
TATT. Why then, as I hope to be saved, I believe a woman only obliges a man to secrecy that she may have the pleasure of telling herself.
SCAN. No doubt on't. Well, but has she done you wrong, or no? You have had her? Ha?
TATT. Though I have more honour than to tell first, I have more manners than to contradict what a lady has declared.
SCAN. Well, you own it?
TATT. I am strangely surprised! Yes, yes, I can't deny't if she taxes me with it.
SCAN. She'll be here by and by, she sees Valentine every morning.
TATT. How?
VAL. She does me the favour, I mean, of a visit sometimes. I did not think she had granted more to anybody.
SCAN. Nor I, faith. But Tattle does not use to bely a lady; it is contrary to his character. How one may be deceived in a woman, Valentine?
TATT. Nay, what do you mean, gentlemen?
SCAN. I'm resolved I'll ask her.
TATT. O barbarous! Why did you not tell me?
SCAN. No; you told us.
TATT. And bid me ask Valentine?
VAL. What did I say? I hope you won't bring me to confess an answer when you never asked me the question?
TATT. But, gentlemen, this is the most inhuman proceeding -
VAL. Nay, if you have known Scandal thus long, and cannot avoid such a palpable decoy as this was, the ladies have a fine time whose reputations are in your keeping.
SCENE XII.
[To them] JEREMY.
JERE. Sir, Mrs Frail has sent to know if you are stirring.
VAL. Show her up when she comes.
SCENE XIII.
VALENTINE, SCANDAL, TATTLE.
TATT. I'll be gone.
VAL. You'll meet her.
TATT. Is there not a back way?
VAL. If there were, you have more discretion than to give Scandal such an advantage. Why, your running away will prove all that he can tell her.
TATT. Scandal, you will not be so ungenerous. Oh, I shall lose my reputation of secrecy for ever. I shall never be received but upon public days, and my visits will never be admitted beyond a drawingroom. I shall never see a bed-chamber again, never be locked in a closet, nor run behind a screen, or under a table: never be distinguished among the waiting-women by the name of trusty Mr Tattle more. You will not be so cruel?
VAL. Scandal, have pity on him; he'll yield to any conditions.
TATT. Any, any terms.
SCAN. Come, then, sacrifice half a dozen women of good reputation to me presently. Come, where are you familiar? And see that they are women of quality, too--the first quality.
TATT. 'Tis very hard. Won't a baronet's lady pass?
SCAN. No, nothing under a right honourable.
TATT. Oh, inhuman! You don't expect their names?
SCAN. No,