The Old Bachelor [10]
know. Well, Mr. Sharper, would you think it? In all this time, as I hope for a truncheon, this rascally gazette-writer never so much as once mentioned me--not once, by the wars--took no more notice than as if Nol. Bluffe had not been in the land of the living.
SHARP. Strange!
SIR JO. Yet, by the Lord Harry, 'tis true, Mr. Sharper, for I went every day to coffee-houses to read the gazette myself.
BLUFF. Ay, ay, no matter. You see, Mr. Sharper, after all I am content to retire; live a private person. Scipio and others have done it.
SHARP. Impudent rogue. [Aside.]
SIR JO. Ay, this damned modesty of yours. Agad, if he would put in for't he might be made general himself yet.
BLUFF. Oh, fie! no, Sir Joseph; you know I hate this.
SIR JO. Let me but tell Mr. Sharper a little, how you ate fire once out of the mouth of a cannon. Agad, he did; those impenetrable whiskers of his have confronted flames -
BLUFF. Death, what do you mean, Sir Joseph?
SIR JO. Look you now. I tell you he's so modest he'll own nothing.
BLUFF. Pish, you have put me out, I have forgot what I was about. Pray hold your tongue, and give me leave. [Angrily.]
SIR JO. I am dumb.
BLUFF. This sword I think I was telling you of, Mr. Sharper. This sword I'll maintain to be the best divine, anatomist, lawyer, or casuist in Europe; it shall decide a controversy or split a cause -
SIR JO. Nay, now I must speak; it will split a hair, by the Lord Harry, I have seen it.
BLUFF. Zounds, sir, it's a lie; you have not seen it, nor sha'n't see it; sir, I say you can't see; what d'ye say to that now?
SIR JO. I am blind.
BLUFF. Death, had any other man interrupted me -
SIR JO. Good Mr. Sharper, speak to him; I dare not look that way.
SHARP. Captain, Sir Joseph's penitent.
BLUFF. Oh, I am calm, sir, calm as a discharged culverin. But 'twas indiscreet, when you know what will provoke me. Nay, come, Sir Joseph, you know my heat's soon over.
SIR JO. Well, I am a fool sometimes, but I'm sorry.
BLUFF. Enough.
SIR JO. Come, we'll go take a glass to drown animosities. Mr. Sharper, will you partake?
SHARP. I wait on you, sir. Nay, pray, Captain; you are Sir Joseph's back.
SCENE III.
ARAMINTA, BELINDA, BETTY waiting, in Araminta's apartment.
BELIN. Ah! nay, dear; prithee, good, dear, sweet cousin, no more. O Gad! I swear you'd make one sick to hear you.
ARAM. Bless me! what have I said to move you thus?
BELIN. Oh, you have raved, talked idly, and all in commendation of that filthy, awkward, two-legged creature man. You don't know what you've said; your fever has transported you.
ARAM. If love be the fever which you mean, kind heaven avert the cure. Let me have oil to feed that flame, and never let it be extinct till I myself am ashes.
BELIN. There was a whine! O Gad, I hate your horrid fancy. This love is the devil, and, sure, to be in love is to be possessed. 'Tis in the head, the heart, the blood, the--all over. O Gad, you are quite spoiled. I shall loathe the sight of mankind for your sake.
ARAM. Fie! this is gross affectation. A little of Bellmour's company would change the scene.
BELIN. Filthy fellow! I wonder, cousin -
ARAM. I wonder, cousin, you should imagine I don't perceive you love him.
BELIN. Oh, I love your hideous fancy! Ha, ha, ha, love a man!
ARAM. Love a man! yes, you would not love a beast.
BELIN. Of all beasts not an ass--which is so like your Vainlove. Lard, I have seen an ass look so chagrin, ha, ha, ha (you must pardon me, I can't help laughing), that an absolute lover would have concluded the poor creature to have had darts, and flames, and altars, and all that in his breast. Araminta, come, I'll talk seriously to you now; could you but see with my eyes the buffoonery of one scene of address, a lover, set out with all his equipage and appurtenances; O Gad I sure you would--But you play the game, and consequently can't see the miscarriages obvious to every stander by.
ARAM. Yes, yes; I can see something
SHARP. Strange!
SIR JO. Yet, by the Lord Harry, 'tis true, Mr. Sharper, for I went every day to coffee-houses to read the gazette myself.
BLUFF. Ay, ay, no matter. You see, Mr. Sharper, after all I am content to retire; live a private person. Scipio and others have done it.
SHARP. Impudent rogue. [Aside.]
SIR JO. Ay, this damned modesty of yours. Agad, if he would put in for't he might be made general himself yet.
BLUFF. Oh, fie! no, Sir Joseph; you know I hate this.
SIR JO. Let me but tell Mr. Sharper a little, how you ate fire once out of the mouth of a cannon. Agad, he did; those impenetrable whiskers of his have confronted flames -
BLUFF. Death, what do you mean, Sir Joseph?
SIR JO. Look you now. I tell you he's so modest he'll own nothing.
BLUFF. Pish, you have put me out, I have forgot what I was about. Pray hold your tongue, and give me leave. [Angrily.]
SIR JO. I am dumb.
BLUFF. This sword I think I was telling you of, Mr. Sharper. This sword I'll maintain to be the best divine, anatomist, lawyer, or casuist in Europe; it shall decide a controversy or split a cause -
SIR JO. Nay, now I must speak; it will split a hair, by the Lord Harry, I have seen it.
BLUFF. Zounds, sir, it's a lie; you have not seen it, nor sha'n't see it; sir, I say you can't see; what d'ye say to that now?
SIR JO. I am blind.
BLUFF. Death, had any other man interrupted me -
SIR JO. Good Mr. Sharper, speak to him; I dare not look that way.
SHARP. Captain, Sir Joseph's penitent.
BLUFF. Oh, I am calm, sir, calm as a discharged culverin. But 'twas indiscreet, when you know what will provoke me. Nay, come, Sir Joseph, you know my heat's soon over.
SIR JO. Well, I am a fool sometimes, but I'm sorry.
BLUFF. Enough.
SIR JO. Come, we'll go take a glass to drown animosities. Mr. Sharper, will you partake?
SHARP. I wait on you, sir. Nay, pray, Captain; you are Sir Joseph's back.
SCENE III.
ARAMINTA, BELINDA, BETTY waiting, in Araminta's apartment.
BELIN. Ah! nay, dear; prithee, good, dear, sweet cousin, no more. O Gad! I swear you'd make one sick to hear you.
ARAM. Bless me! what have I said to move you thus?
BELIN. Oh, you have raved, talked idly, and all in commendation of that filthy, awkward, two-legged creature man. You don't know what you've said; your fever has transported you.
ARAM. If love be the fever which you mean, kind heaven avert the cure. Let me have oil to feed that flame, and never let it be extinct till I myself am ashes.
BELIN. There was a whine! O Gad, I hate your horrid fancy. This love is the devil, and, sure, to be in love is to be possessed. 'Tis in the head, the heart, the blood, the--all over. O Gad, you are quite spoiled. I shall loathe the sight of mankind for your sake.
ARAM. Fie! this is gross affectation. A little of Bellmour's company would change the scene.
BELIN. Filthy fellow! I wonder, cousin -
ARAM. I wonder, cousin, you should imagine I don't perceive you love him.
BELIN. Oh, I love your hideous fancy! Ha, ha, ha, love a man!
ARAM. Love a man! yes, you would not love a beast.
BELIN. Of all beasts not an ass--which is so like your Vainlove. Lard, I have seen an ass look so chagrin, ha, ha, ha (you must pardon me, I can't help laughing), that an absolute lover would have concluded the poor creature to have had darts, and flames, and altars, and all that in his breast. Araminta, come, I'll talk seriously to you now; could you but see with my eyes the buffoonery of one scene of address, a lover, set out with all his equipage and appurtenances; O Gad I sure you would--But you play the game, and consequently can't see the miscarriages obvious to every stander by.
ARAM. Yes, yes; I can see something