_Clink._ Madam, excuse this absence of mind; my animal spirits had
deserted the avenues of my senses, and retired to the recesses of the
brain, to contemplate a beautiful idea. I could not force the vagrant
creatures back again into their posts, to move those parts of the body
that express civility.
_Town._ A rare affected creature this! if I mistake not, flattery will
make her an useful tool for my purpose.
[_Aside._
[_Exeunt_ Townley, Clinket, _and_ Maid.
_Foss._ Her jewels, her strong box, and all her things left behind! if
her uncle should discover her marriage, he may lay an embargo upon her
goods.----I'll send for them.
Enter a boy with a letter.
_Boy._ This is the ho-ho-house.
_Foss._ Child, whom dost thou want?
_Boy._ Mistress Townley's ma-ma-maid.
_Foss._ What is your business?
_Boy._ A l-l-letter.
_Foss._ Who sent this letter?
_Boy._ O-o-one.
_Foss._ Give it me, child. An honest boy. Give it me, and I'll deliver
it myself. A very honest boy.
_Boy._ So.
[_Exit boy._
_Foss._ There are now no more secrets between us. Man and wife are one.
'Madam, either I mistake the encouragement I have had, or I am to
be happy to-night. I hope the same person will compleat her good
offices: I stand to articles. The ring is a fine one; and I shall
have the pleasure of putting it on the first time.'
This from your impatient, R. P.
In the name of Beelzebub, what is this? encouragement! happy to-night!
same person! good offices! whom hast thou married, poor Fossile? couldst
thou not still divert thyself with the spoils of quarries and coal-pits,
thy serpents and thy salamanders, but thou must have a living monster
too! 'sdeath! what a jest shall I be to our club! is there no rope among
my curiosities? shall I turn her out of doors, and proclaim my infamy;
or lock her up and bear my misfortunes? lock her up! impossible. One may
shut up volatile spirits, pen up the air, confine bears, lyons and
tygers, nay, keep even your gold: but a wanton wife, who can keep?
Enter TOWNLEY.
_Town._ Mrs. Clinket's play is to be read this morning at the tea-table:
will you come and divert yourself, Sir?
_Foss._ No: I want to be alone.
_Town._ I hope my company is not troublesome already. I am as yet a
bride; not a wife. [_sighs._] What means this sudden change? [_Aside._]
Consider, Mr. Fossile, you want your natural rest: the bed would refresh
you. Let me sit by you.
_Foss._ My head akes, and the bed always makes it worse.
_Town._ Is it hereabouts?
[_rubbing his temples._
_Foss._ Too sure.
[_Turns from her._
_Town._ Why so fretful, Mr. Fossile?
_Foss._ No, I'll dissemble my passion, and pump her. [_Aside._] Excess
of joy, my dear, for my good fortune overcomes me. I am somewhat
vertiginous, I can hardly stand.
_Town._ I hope I was ordain'd for thy support.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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