The Double-Dealer | Page 7

are times when sense may be unseasonable as well as truth. Prithee do
thou wear none to-day, but allow Brisk to have wit, that thou may'st
seem a fool.
CARE. Why, how now, why this extravagant proposition?
MEL. Oh, I would have no room for serious design, for I am jealous of
a plot. I would have noise and impertinence keep my Lady
Touchwood's head from working: for hell is not more busy than her
brain, nor contains more devils than that imaginations.
CARE. I thought your fear of her had been over. Is not to-morrow
appointed for your marriage with Cynthia, and her father, Sir Paul
Plyant, come to settle the writings this day on purpose?
MEL. True; but you shall judge whether I have not reason to be
alarmed. None besides you and Maskwell are acquainted with the
secret of my Aunt Touchwood's violent passion for me. Since my first
refusal of her addresses she has endeavoured to do me all ill offices
with my uncle, yet has managed 'em with that subtilty, that to him they
have borne the face of kindness; while her malice, like a dark lanthorn,
only shone upon me where it was directed. Still, it gave me less
perplexity to prevent the success of her displeasure than to avoid the
importunities of her love, and of two evils I thought myself favoured in
her aversion. But whether urged by her despair and the short prospect
of time she saw to accomplish her designs; whether the hopes of
revenge, or of her love, terminated in the view of this my marriage with
Cynthia, I know not, but this morning she surprised me in my bed.
CARE. Was there ever such a fury! 'Tis well nature has not put it into
her sex's power to ravish. Well, bless us, proceed. What followed?
MEL. What at first amazed me--for I looked to have seen her in all the
transports of a slighted and revengeful woman--but when I expected
thunder from her voice, and lightning in her eyes, I saw her melted into

tears and hushed into a sigh. It was long before either of us spoke:
passion had tied her tongue, and amazement mine. In short, the
consequence was thus, she omitted nothing that the most violent love
could urge, or tender words express; which when she saw had no effect,
but still I pleaded honour and nearness of blood to my uncle, then came
the storm I feared at first, for, starting from my bed-side like a fury, she
flew to my sword, and with much ado I prevented her doing me or
herself a mischief. Having disarmed her, in a gust of passion she left
me, and in a resolution, confirmed by a thousand curses, not to close
her eyes till they had seen my ruin.
CARE. Exquisite woman! But what the devil, does she think thou hast
no more sense than to get an heir upon her body to disinherit thyself?
for as I take it this settlement upon you is, with a proviso, that your
uncle have no children.
MEL. It is so. Well, the service you are to do me will be a pleasure to
yourself: I must get you to engage my Lady Plyant all this evening, that
my pious aunt may not work her to her interest. And if you chance to
secure her to yourself, you may incline her to mine. She's handsome,
and knows it; is very silly, and thinks she has sense, and has an old
fond husband.
CARE. I confess, a very fair foundation for a lover to build upon.
MEL. For my Lord Froth, he and his wife will be sufficiently taken up
with admiring one another and Brisk's gallantry, as they call it. I'll
observe my uncle myself, and Jack Maskwell has promised me to
watch my aunt narrowly, and give me notice upon any suspicion. As
for Sir Paul, my wise father-in-law that is to be, my dear Cynthia has
such a share in his fatherly fondness, he would scarce make her a
moment uneasy to have her happy hereafter.
CARE. So you have manned your works; but I wish you may not have
the weakest guard where the enemy is strongest.
MEL. Maskwell, you mean; prithee why should you suspect him?

CARE. Faith I cannot help it; you know I never liked him: I am a little
superstitious in physiognomy.
MEL. He has obligations of gratitude to bind him to me: his
dependence upon my uncle is through my means.
CARE. Upon your aunt, you mean.
MEL. My aunt!
CARE. I'm mistaken if there be not a familiarity between them you do
not suspect, notwithstanding her passion for you.
MEL. Pooh, pooh! nothing in the world but his design to do me service;