The Country Wife

upon’t too? Ay, but then my husband would see’t⁠—I don’t know what to do.⁠—But yet evads I’ll try, so I will⁠—for I will not send this letter to poor Mr. Horner, come what will on’t. “Dear, sweet Mr. Horner”⁠—Writes and repeats what she writes.⁠—so⁠—“my husband would have me send you a base, rude, unmannerly letter; but I won’t”⁠—so⁠—“and would have me forbid you loving me; but I won’t”⁠—so⁠—“and would have me say to you, I hate you, poor Mr. Horner; but I won’t tell a lie for him”⁠—there⁠—“for I’m sure if you and I were in the country at cards together”⁠—so⁠—“I could not help treading on your toe under the table”⁠—so⁠—“or rubbing knees with you, and staring in your face, till you saw me”⁠—very well⁠—“and then looking down, and blushing for an hour together”⁠—so⁠—“but I must make haste before my husband comes: and now he has taught me to write letters, you shall have longer ones from me, who am, dear, dear, poor, dear Mr. Horner, your most humble friend, and servant to command till death⁠—Margery Pinchwife.” Stay, I must give him a hint at bottom⁠—so⁠—now wrap it up just like t’other⁠—so⁠—now write “For Mr. Horner”⁠—But oh now, what shall I do with it? for here comes my husband. Re-enter Pinchwife. Pinchwife Aside. I have been detained by a sparkish coxcomb, who pretended a visit to me; but I fear ’twas to my wife⁠—Aloud. What, have you done? Mrs. Pinchwife Ay, ay, bud, just now. Pinchwife Let’s see’t: what d’ye tremble for? what, you would not have it go? Mrs. Pinchwife Here⁠—Aside. No, I must not give him that: so I had been served if I had given him this. He opens and reads the first letter. Pinchwife Come, where’s the wax and seal? Mrs. Pinchwife Aside. Lord, what shall I do now? Nay, then I have it⁠—Aloud. Pray let me see’t. Lord, you think me so arrant a fool, I cannot seal a letter; I will do’t, so I will. Snatches the letter from him, changes it for the other, seals it, and delivers it to him. Pinchwife Nay, I believe you will learn that, and other things too, which I would not have you. Mrs. Pinchwife So, han’t I done it curiously?9⁠—Aside. I think I have; there’s my letter going to Mr. Horner, since he’ll needs have me send letters to folks. Pinchwife ’Tis very well; but I warrant, you would not have it go now? Mrs. Pinchwife Yes, indeed, but I would, bud, now. Pinchwife Well, you are a good girl then. Come, let me lock you up in your chamber, till I come back; and be sure you come not within three strides of the window when I am gone, for I have a spy in the street.⁠—Exit Mrs. Pinchwife, Pinchwife locks the door. At least, ’tis fit she think so. If we do not cheat women, they’ll cheat us, and fraud may be justly used with secret enemies, of which a wife is the most dangerous; and he that has a handsome one to keep, and a frontier town, must provide against treachery, rather than open force. Now I have secured all within, I’ll deal with the foe without, with false intelligence. Holds up the letter. Exit.

Scene III

Horner’s lodging

	Enter Horner and Quack.
Quack	Well, sir, how fadges10 the new design? have you not the luck of all your brother projectors, to deceive only yourself at last?
Horner	No, good domine doctor, I deceive you, it seems, and others too; for the grave matrons, and old, rigid husbands think me as unfit for love, as they are; but their wives, sisters, and daughters know, some of ’em, better things already.
Quack	Already!
Horner	Already, I say. Last night I was drunk with half-a-dozen of your civil persons, as you call ’em, and people of honour, and so was made free of their society and dressing-rooms forever hereafter; and am already come to the privileges of sleeping upon their pallets, warming smocks, tying shoes and garters, and the like, doctor, already, already, doctor.
Quack	You have made good use of your time, sir.
Horner	I tell thee, I am now no more interruption to ’em, when they sing, or talk bawdy, than a little squab French page who speaks no English.
Quack	But do civil persons and women of honour drink, and sing bawdy songs?
Horner	O, amongst friends, amongst friends. For your bigots in honour are just like those in religion; they fear the eye of the world more than the eye of Heaven; and think there is no virtue, but railing at vice, and no sin, but giving scandal. They rail at a poor, little, kept player, and keep themselves some young, modest pulpit comedian to be privy to their sins in their closets, not to tell ’em of them in their chapels.
Quack	Nay, the truth on’t is, priests, amongst the women now, have quite got the better of us lay-confessors, physicians.
Horner	And they are rather their patients; but⁠—
	Enter Lady Fidget, looking about her.
	Now we talk of women of honour, here comes one. Step behind the screen there, and but observe, if I have not particular privileges with the women of reputation already, doctor, already. Quack retires.
Lady Fidget	Well, Horner, am not I a woman of honour? you see, I’m as good as my word.
Horner	And you shall see, madam, I’ll not be behindhand with you in honour; and I’ll be as good as my word too, if you please but to withdraw into the next room.
Lady Fidget	But first, my dear sir, you must promise to have a care of my dear honour.
Horner	If you talk a word more of your honour, you’ll make me incapable to wrong it. To talk of honour in the mysteries of love, is like talking of Heaven or the Deity, in an operation of witchcraft, just when you are employing the devil: it makes the charm impotent.
Lady Fidget	Nay, fy! let us not be smutty. But you talk of mysteries