The Double-Dealer | Page 8

and he endeavours to be well in her esteem, that he may be able to
effect it.
CARE. Well, I shall be glad to be mistaken; but your aunt's aversion in
her revenge cannot be any way so effectually shown as in bringing
forth a child to disinherit you. She is handsome and cunning and
naturally wanton. Maskwell is flesh and blood at best, and
opportunities between them are frequent. His affection to you, you have
confessed, is grounded upon his interest, that you have transplanted;
and should it take root in my lady, I don't see what you can expect from
the fruit.
MEL. I confess the consequence is visible, were your suspicions just.
But see, the company is broke up, let's meet 'em.
SCENE IV.
[To them] LORD TOUCHWOOD, LORD FROTH, SIR PAUL
PLYANT, and BRISK.
LORD TOUCH. Out upon't, nephew. Leave your father-in-law and me
to maintain our ground against young people!
MEL. I beg your lordship's pardon. We were just returning.

SIR PAUL. Were you, son? Gadsbud, much better as it is. Good,
strange! I swear I'm almost tipsy; t'other bottle would have been too
powerful for me,--as sure as can be it would. We wanted your company,
but Mr. Brisk--where is he? I swear and vow he's a most facetious
person, and the best company. And, my Lord Froth, your lordship is so
merry a man, he, he, he.
LORD FROTH. Oh, foy, Sir Paul, what do you mean? Merry! Oh,
barbarous! I'd as lieve you called me fool.
SIR PAUL. Nay, I protest and vow now, 'tis true; when Mr. Brisk jokes,
your lordship's laugh does so become you, he, he, he.
LORD FROTH. Ridiculous! Sir Paul, you're strangely mistaken, I find
champagne is powerful. I assure you, Sir Paul, I laugh at nobody's jest
but my own, or a lady's, I assure you, Sir Paul.
BRISK. How? how, my lord? what, affront my wit! Let me perish, do I
never say anything worthy to be laughed at?
LORD FROTH. Oh, foy, don't misapprehend me; I don't say so, for I
often smile at your conceptions. But there is nothing more unbecoming
a man of quality than to laugh; 'tis such a vulgar expression of the
passion; everybody can laugh. Then especially to laugh at the jest of an
inferior person, or when anybody else of the same quality does not
laugh with one--ridiculous! To be pleased with what pleases the crowd!
Now when I laugh, I always laugh alone.
BRISK. I suppose that's because you laugh at your own jests, i'gad, ha,
ha, ha.
LORD FROTH. He, he, I swear though, your raillery provokes me to a
smile.
BRISK. Ay, my lord, it's a sign I hit you in the teeth, if you show 'em.
LORD FROTH. He, he, he, I swear that's so very pretty, I can't forbear.

CARE. I find a quibble bears more sway in your lordship's face than a
jest.
LORD TOUCH. Sir Paul, if you please we'll retire to the ladies, and
drink a dish of tea to settle our heads.
SIR PAUL. With all my heart. Mr. Brisk, you'll come to us, or call me
when you joke; I'll be ready to laugh incontinently.
SCENE V.
MELLEFONT, CARELESS, LORD FROTH, BRISK.
MEL. But does your lordship never see comedies?
LORD FROTH. Oh yes, sometimes; but I never laugh.
MEL. No?
LORD FROTH. Oh no; never laugh indeed, sir.
CARE. No! why, what d'ye go there for?
LORD FROTH. To distinguish myself from the commonalty and
mortify the poets; the fellows grow so conceited, when any of their
foolish wit prevails upon the side-boxes. I swear,--he, he, he, I have
often constrained my inclinations to laugh,--he, he, he, to avoid giving
them encouragement.
MEL. You are cruel to yourself, my lord, as well as malicious to them.
LORD FROTH. I confess I did myself some violence at first, but now I
think I have conquered it.
BRISK. Let me perish, my lord, but there is something very particular
in the humour; 'tis true it makes against wit, and I'm sorry for some
friends of mine that write; but, i'gad, I love to be malicious. Nay, deuce
take me, there's wit in't, too. And wit must be foiled by wit; cut a
diamond with a diamond, no other way, i'gad.

LORD FROTH. Oh, I thought you would not be long before you found
out the wit.
CARE. Wit! In what? Where the devil's the wit in not laughing when a
man has a mind to't?
BRISK. O Lord, why can't you find it out? Why, there 'tis, in the not
laughing. Don't you apprehend me? My lord, Careless is a very honest
fellow, but harkee, you understand me, somewhat heavy, a little
shallow, or so. Why, I'll tell you now, suppose now