The Country Wife

church before the canonical hour is past. Alithea For shame, you are abused still. Sparkish By the world, ’tis strange now you are so incredulous. Alithea ’Tis strange you are so credulous. Sparkish Dearest of my life, hear me. I tell you this is Ned Harcourt of Cambridge, by the world; you see he has a sneaking college look. ’Tis true he’s something like his brother Frank; and they differ from each other no more than in their age, for they were twins. Lucy Ha! ha! ha! Alithea Your servant, sir; I cannot be so deceived, though you are. But come, let’s hear, how do you know what you affirm so confidently? Sparkish Why, I’ll tell you all. Frank Harcourt coming to me this morning to wish me joy, and present his service to you, I asked him if he could help me to a parson. Whereupon he told me, he had a brother in town who was in orders; and he went straight away, and sent him, you see there, to me. Alithea Yes, Frank goes and puts on a black coat, then tells you he is Ned; that’s all you have for’t. Sparkish Pshaw! pshaw! I tell you, by the same token, the midwife put her garter about Frank’s neck, to know ’em asunder, they were so like. Alithea Frank tells you this too? Sparkish Ay, and Ned there too: nay, they are both in a story. Alithea So, so; very foolish. Sparkish Lord, if you won’t believe one, you had best try him by your chambermaid there; for chambermaids must needs know chaplains from other men, they are so used to ’em. Lucy Let’s see: nay, I’ll be sworn he has the canonical smirk, and the filthy clammy palm of a chaplain. Alithea Well, most reverend doctor, pray let us make an end of this fooling. Harcourt With all my soul, divine heavenly creature, when you please. Alithea He speaks like a chaplain indeed. Sparkish Why, was there not soul, divine, heavenly, in what he said? Alithea Once more, most impertinent black coat, cease your persecution, and let us have a conclusion of this ridiculous love. Harcourt I had forgot, I must suit my style to my coat, or I wear it in vain. Aside. Alithea I have no more patience left; let us make once an end of this troublesome love, I say. Harcourt So be it, seraphic lady, when your honour shall think it meet and convenient so to do. Sparkish ’Gad I’m sure none but a chaplain could speak so, I think. Alithea Let me tell you, sir, this dull trick will not serve your turn; though you delay our marriage, you shall not hinder it. Harcourt Far be it from me, munificent patroness, to delay your marriage; I desire nothing more than to marry you presently, which I might do, if you yourself would; for my noble, good-natured, and thrice generous patron here would not hinder it. Sparkish No, poor man, not I, faith. Harcourt And now, madam, let me tell you plainly nobody else shall marry you; by Heavens! I’ll die first, for I’m sure I should die after it. Lucy How his love has made him forget his function, as I have seen it in real parsons! Alithea That was spoken like a chaplain too? now you understand him, I hope. Sparkish Poor man, he takes it heinously to be refused; I can’t blame him, ’tis putting an indignity upon him, not to be suffered; but you’ll pardon me, madam, it shan’t be; he shall marry us; come away, pray madam. Lucy Ha! ha! he! more ado! ’tis late. Alithea Invincible stupidity! I tell you, he would marry me as your rival, not as your chaplain. Sparkish Come, come, madam. Pulling her away. Lucy I pray, madam, do not refuse this reverend divine the honour and satisfaction of marrying you; for I dare say, he has set his heart upon’t, good doctor. Alithea What can you hope or design by this? Harcourt I could answer her, a reprieve for a day only, often revokes a hasty doom. At worst, if she will not take mercy on me, and let me marry her, I have at least the lover’s second pleasure, hindering my rival’s enjoyment, though but for a time. Aside. Sparkish Come, madam, ’tis e’en twelve o’clock, and my mother charged me never to be married out of the canonical hours. Come, come; Lord, here’s such a deal of modesty, I warrant, the first day. Lucy Yes, an’t please your worship, married women show all their modesty the first day, because married men show all their love the first day. Exeunt.

Scene II

A bedchamber in Pinchwife’s house.

	Pinchwife and Mrs. Pinchwife discovered.
Pinchwife	Come, tell me, I say.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Lord! han’t I told it a hundred times over?
Pinchwife	Aside. I would try, if in the repetition of the ungrateful tale, I could find her altering it in the least circumstance; for if her story be false, she is so too.⁠—Aloud. Come, how was’t, baggage?
Mrs. Pinchwife	Lord, what pleasure you take to hear it sure!
Pinchwife	No, you take more in telling it I find; but speak, how was’t?
Mrs. Pinchwife	He carried me up into the house next to the Exchange.
Pinchwife	So, and you two were only in the room!
Mrs. Pinchwife	Yes, for he sent away a youth that was there, for some dried fruit, and China oranges.
Pinchwife	Did he so? Damn him for it⁠—and for⁠—
Mrs. Pinchwife	But presently came up the gentlewoman of the house.
Pinchwife	O, ’twas well she did; but what did he do whilst the fruit came?
Mrs. Pinchwife	He kissed me a hundred times, and told me he fancied he kissed my fine sister, meaning me, you know, whom he said he loved with all his soul, and bid me be sure to tell her so, and to desire her to be at her window, by eleven of the clock this morning, and he would walk under it at that time.
Pinchwife	And he was as good as his word, very punctual; a pox reward him for’t. Aside.
Mrs. Pinchwife	Well, and he said if you were not within, he would come up to her, meaning me,