Love for Love [37]
and if they commit matrimony, 'tis as they commit murder, out of a frolic, and are ready to hang themselves, or to be hanged by the law, the next morning. Odso, have a care, madam.
ANG. Therefore I ask your advice, Sir Sampson. I have fortune enough to make any man easy that I can like: if there were such a thing as a young agreeable man, with a reasonable stock of good nature and sense--for I would neither have an absolute wit nor a fool.
SIR SAMP. Odd, you are hard to please, madam: to find a young fellow that is neither a wit in his own eye, nor a fool in the eye of the world, is a very hard task. But, faith and troth, you speak very discreetly; for I hate both a wit and a fool.
ANG. She that marries a fool, Sir Sampson, forfeits the reputation of her honesty or understanding; and she that marries a very witty man is a slave to the severity and insolent conduct of her husband. I should like a man of wit for a lover, because I would have such an one in my power; but I would no more be his wife than his enemy. For his malice is not a more terrible consequence of his aversion than his jealousy is of his love.
SIR SAMP. None of old Foresight's sibyls ever uttered such a truth. Odsbud, you have won my heart; I hate a wit: I had a son that was spoiled among 'em, a good hopeful lad, till he learned to be a wit; and might have risen in the state. But, a pox on't, his wit run him out of his money, and now his poverty has run him out of his wits.
ANG. Sir Sampson, as your friend, I must tell you you are very much abused in that matter: he's no more mad than you are.
SIR SAMP. How, madam! Would I could prove it.
ANG. I can tell you how that may be done. But it is a thing that would make me appear to be too much concerned in your affairs.
SIR SAMP. Odsbud, I believe she likes me. [Aside.] Ah, madam, all my affairs are scarce worthy to be laid at your feet; and I wish, madam, they were in a better posture, that I might make a more becoming offer to a lady of your incomparable beauty and merit. If I had Peru in one hand, and Mexico in t'other, and the Eastern Empire under my feet, it would make me only a more glorious victim to be offered at the shrine of your beauty.
ANG. Bless me, Sir Sampson, what's the matter?
SIR SAMP. Odd, madam, I love you. And if you would take my advice in a husband -
ANG. Hold, hold, Sir Sampson. I asked your advice for a husband, and you are giving me your consent. I was indeed thinking to propose something like it in jest, to satisfy you about Valentine: for if a match were seemingly carried on between you and me, it would oblige him to throw off his disguise of madness, in apprehension of losing me: for you know he has long pretended a passion for me.
SIR SAMP. Gadzooks, a most ingenious contrivance--if we were to go through with it. But why must the match only be seemingly carried on? Odd, let it be a real contract.
ANG. Oh, fie, Sir Sampson, what would the world say?
SIR SAMP. Say? They would say you were a wise woman and I a happy man. Odd, madam, I'll love you as long as I live, and leave you a good jointure when I die.
ANG. Ay; but that is not in your power, Sir Sampson: for when Valentine confesses himself in his senses, he must make over his inheritance to his younger brother.
SIR SAMP. Odd, you're cunning, a wary baggage! Faith and troth, I like you the better. But, I warrant you, I have a proviso in the obligation in favour of myself. Body o' me, I have a trick to turn the settlement upon the issue male of our two bodies begotten. Odsbud, let us find children and I'll find an estate!
ANG. Will you? Well, do you find the estate and leave t'other to me.
SIR SAMP. O rogue! But I'll trust you. And will you consent? Is it a match then?
ANG. Let me consult my lawyer concerning this obligation, and if I find what you propose practicable, I'll give you my answer.
SIR SAMP. With all my heart: come in with me, and I'll lend you the bond. You shall consult your lawyer, and I'll consult a parson.
ANG. Therefore I ask your advice, Sir Sampson. I have fortune enough to make any man easy that I can like: if there were such a thing as a young agreeable man, with a reasonable stock of good nature and sense--for I would neither have an absolute wit nor a fool.
SIR SAMP. Odd, you are hard to please, madam: to find a young fellow that is neither a wit in his own eye, nor a fool in the eye of the world, is a very hard task. But, faith and troth, you speak very discreetly; for I hate both a wit and a fool.
ANG. She that marries a fool, Sir Sampson, forfeits the reputation of her honesty or understanding; and she that marries a very witty man is a slave to the severity and insolent conduct of her husband. I should like a man of wit for a lover, because I would have such an one in my power; but I would no more be his wife than his enemy. For his malice is not a more terrible consequence of his aversion than his jealousy is of his love.
SIR SAMP. None of old Foresight's sibyls ever uttered such a truth. Odsbud, you have won my heart; I hate a wit: I had a son that was spoiled among 'em, a good hopeful lad, till he learned to be a wit; and might have risen in the state. But, a pox on't, his wit run him out of his money, and now his poverty has run him out of his wits.
ANG. Sir Sampson, as your friend, I must tell you you are very much abused in that matter: he's no more mad than you are.
SIR SAMP. How, madam! Would I could prove it.
ANG. I can tell you how that may be done. But it is a thing that would make me appear to be too much concerned in your affairs.
SIR SAMP. Odsbud, I believe she likes me. [Aside.] Ah, madam, all my affairs are scarce worthy to be laid at your feet; and I wish, madam, they were in a better posture, that I might make a more becoming offer to a lady of your incomparable beauty and merit. If I had Peru in one hand, and Mexico in t'other, and the Eastern Empire under my feet, it would make me only a more glorious victim to be offered at the shrine of your beauty.
ANG. Bless me, Sir Sampson, what's the matter?
SIR SAMP. Odd, madam, I love you. And if you would take my advice in a husband -
ANG. Hold, hold, Sir Sampson. I asked your advice for a husband, and you are giving me your consent. I was indeed thinking to propose something like it in jest, to satisfy you about Valentine: for if a match were seemingly carried on between you and me, it would oblige him to throw off his disguise of madness, in apprehension of losing me: for you know he has long pretended a passion for me.
SIR SAMP. Gadzooks, a most ingenious contrivance--if we were to go through with it. But why must the match only be seemingly carried on? Odd, let it be a real contract.
ANG. Oh, fie, Sir Sampson, what would the world say?
SIR SAMP. Say? They would say you were a wise woman and I a happy man. Odd, madam, I'll love you as long as I live, and leave you a good jointure when I die.
ANG. Ay; but that is not in your power, Sir Sampson: for when Valentine confesses himself in his senses, he must make over his inheritance to his younger brother.
SIR SAMP. Odd, you're cunning, a wary baggage! Faith and troth, I like you the better. But, I warrant you, I have a proviso in the obligation in favour of myself. Body o' me, I have a trick to turn the settlement upon the issue male of our two bodies begotten. Odsbud, let us find children and I'll find an estate!
ANG. Will you? Well, do you find the estate and leave t'other to me.
SIR SAMP. O rogue! But I'll trust you. And will you consent? Is it a match then?
ANG. Let me consult my lawyer concerning this obligation, and if I find what you propose practicable, I'll give you my answer.
SIR SAMP. With all my heart: come in with me, and I'll lend you the bond. You shall consult your lawyer, and I'll consult a parson.