The Way of the World

knowledge, and by refusing the offered match with Sir Wilfull Witwoud, which you, like a careful aunt, had provided for her. Lady Wishfort My nephew was non compos, and could not make his addresses. Fainall I come to make demands⁠—I’ll hear no objections. Lady Wishfort You will grant me time to consider? Fainall Yes, while the instrument is drawing,105 to which you must set your hand till more sufficient deeds can be perfected: which I will take care shall be done with all possible speed. In the meanwhile I will go for the said instrument, and till my return you may balance this matter in your own discretion. Exit. Lady Wishfort This insolence is beyond all precedent, all parallel. Must I be subject to this merciless villain? Mrs. Marwood ’Tis severe indeed, madam, that you should smart for your daughter’s wantonness. Lady Wishfort ’Twas against my consent that she married this barbarian, but she would have him, though her year was not out.⁠—Ah! her first husband, my son Languish, would not have carried it thus. Well, that was my choice, this is hers; she is matched now with a witness⁠—I shall be mad!⁠—Dear friend; is there no comfort for me? Must I live to be confiscated at this rebel-rate?⁠—Here come two more of my Egyptian plagues too. Enter Mrs. Millamant and Sir Wilfull Witwoud. Sir Wilful Aunt, your servant. Lady Wishfort Out, caterpillar, call not me aunt; I know thee not. Sir Wilful I confess I have been a little in disguise, as they say.⁠—S’heart! and I’m sorry for’t. What would you have? I hope I committed no offence, aunt⁠—and if I did I am willing to make satisfaction; and what can a man say fairer? If I have broke anything I’ll pay for’t, an it cost a pound. And so let that content for what’s past, and make no more words. For what’s to come, to pleasure you I’m willing to marry my cousin. So, pray, let’s all be friends, she and I are agreed upon the matter before a witness. Lady Wishfort How’s this, dear niece? Have I any comfort? Can this be true? Mrs. Millamant I am content to be a sacrifice to your repose, madam, and to convince you that I had no hand in the plot, as you were misinformed. I have laid my commands on Mirabell to come in person, and be a witness that I give my hand to this flower of knighthood; and for the contract that passed between Mirabell and me, I have obliged him to make a resignation of it in your ladyship’s presence. He is without and waits your leave for admittance. Lady Wishfort Well, I’ll swear I am something revived at this testimony of your obedience; but I cannot admit that traitor⁠—I fear I cannot fortify myself to support his appearance. He is as terrible to me as a gorgon: if I see him I swear I shall turn to stone, petrify incessantly. Mrs. Millamant If you disoblige him he may resent your refusal, and insist upon the contract still. Then ’tis the last time he will be offensive to you. Lady Wishfort Are you sure it will be the last time?⁠—If I were sure of that⁠—shall I never see him again? Mrs. Millamant Sir Wilfull, you and he are to travel together, are you not? Sir Wilful S’heart, the gentleman’s a civil gentleman, aunt, let him come in; why, we are sworn brothers and fellow-travellers.⁠—We are to be Pylades and Orestes, he and I.⁠—He is to be my interpreter in foreign parts. He has been overseas once already; and with proviso that I marry my cousin, will cross ’em once again, only to bear me company.⁠—S’heart, I’ll call him in⁠—an I set on’t once, he shall come in; and see who’ll hinder him. Goes to the door and hems. Mrs. Marwood This is precious fooling, if it would pass; but I’ll know the bottom of it. Lady Wishfort O dear Marwood, you are not going? Mrs. Marwood Not far, madam; I’ll return immediately. Exit. Enter Mirabell. Sir Wilful Look up, man, I’ll stand by you; ’sbud, an she do frown, she can’t kill you. Besides⁠—hark’ee, she dare not frown desperately, because her face is none of her own. S’heart, an she should, her forehead would wrinkle like the coat of a cream cheese; but mum for that, fellow-traveller. Mirabell If a deep sense of the many injuries I have offered to so good a lady, with a sincere remorse and a hearty contrition, can but obtain the least glance of compassion. I am too happy.⁠—Ah, madam, there was a time⁠—but let it be forgotten⁠—I confess I have deservedly forfeited the high place I once held, of sighing at your feet; nay, kill me not by turning from me in disdain⁠—I come not to plead for favour. Nay, not for pardon: I am a suppliant only for pity⁠—I am going where I never shall behold you more⁠— Sir Wilful How, fellow-traveller! You shall go by yourself then. Mirabell Let me be pitied first, and afterwards forgotten. I ask no more. Sir Wilful By’r Lady,106 a very reasonable request, and will cost you nothing, aunt! Come, come, forgive and forget, aunt. Why you must an you are a Christian. Mirabell Consider, madam; in reality you could not receive much prejudice: it was an innocent device, though I confess it had a face of guiltiness⁠—it was at most an artifice which love contrived; and errors which love produces have ever been accounted venial. At least think it is punishment enough that I have lost what in my heart I hold most dear, that to your cruel indignation I have offered up this beauty, and with her my peace and quiet; nay, all my hopes of future comfort. Sir Wilful An he does not move me, would I may never be o’ the quorum.107⁠—an it were not as good a deed as to drink, to give her to him again, I would I might never take shipping!⁠—Aunt, if you don’t forgive quickly, I shall melt, I can