Cowley, Hannah. The Runaway. Ed. Elizabeth Fay, with an Introduction by Angela Escott. British Women Playwrights around 1800. 15 October 1999.

Act V

Scene 1

[An Apartment. Enter Mr. Morley and Emily.]

Mor.
A pretty freak indeed! a pretty freak, in return for all the Care and Attention with which I have watched over you!—I have broke with the Doctor, for his share in this romantic affair.

Em.
I am much concerned, Sir, that his Compassion for my distress should have led that worthy man to have taken any step that you can think unpardonable. But, when he found that he could not move my Resolution, he thought it his Duty to provide me with a retreat amongst persons of reputation.

Morley.
—A Retreat!—So, whilst I was condemning my sweet, innocent, niece for Stubborness, Wilfulness, and Ingratitude, she was only gone to a—Retreat! to sit I warrant ye under Elms, listen to the cawing of rooks, and carve her melancholy Story on the young bark.

Em.
I am glad you can be so sportive with my Temper has been my misfortune; I never made a mistake in Trade in my life myself never—but, have been persuaded, and led to listen to Advice, until I have been half ruined. But, I'll be resolute now, for your sake!

Em.
Surely, Sir—

Mor.
Aye, aye, I understand that speaking face—there is not a line in it but calls me cruel! But pray, Madame, what is it in Baldwin that so particularly displeases your Fancy?

Em.
His person is ungraceful, his manner assuming, and his mind effeminate.

Mor.
And is not this the description of four fifths of the young men of the age?—but, he has four thousand a year, that's not quite so common a circumstance.—Come, take the pencil again, lay on coarser colours, or you wont convince me, considering the Times, that the picture is a bad one.

Em.
[Aside. Ah! if I could urge his merit, how different is Mr. Hargrave!]—You have heard my objections so often, Sir, that the repetition can have no weight. But, surely I may urge my Happiness.

Mor.
Oh, I intend to secure that—therefore, John, order my Carriage up, we are going directly.—The very moment we reach Grosvenor Street, though you dont deserve it, the indissoluble tie with Baldwin must take place. He is now waiting with the Parson at his elbow; we'll away as quickly as if horses are too quick, 'tis only to extend your fancy, and suppose that I hate Baldwin—that you are therefore driving to Scotland with him—and I pursuing;—why the horses will move so slowly, you'll be ready to swear they dont gallop above three rood an hour!

Em.
I intreat you, Sir, stay—at least till to-morrow!—[Aside. Oh, where is Mr. Drummond?]

Mor.
Not a moment!

Em.
You have not yet seen Mr. Drummond, Sir, to whom I am so much obliged.

Mor.
I have made enquiries, and have heard a very extraordinary Character of him; we can make him acknowledgments by Letter—and you may send him Gloves.—I know your design, you hope he will be able to talk me out of my Resolution, and, perhaps, I may be a little afraid of it myself; and so, to avoid that danger, we'll go directly.

Em.
'Tis so late, Sir; and the night is dark. [Aside. Yet, why should I wish to stay here!]

Mor.
No more trifling! Conduct me to the family, that we may take leave. If you complain of this as an act of Tyranny in me, be comforted child—it is the last; to-morrow morning I shall be the most obedient of my dear Niece Baldwin's humble servants. [Exeunt.]

[Enter George, and Sir Charles.]

Geo.
[In great Agitation.] To be reserved in Assistance at such a moment—talk to me of Prudence when I must be half frantic if am I human! Though he who can be discreet, as to his own Interest, when his Friend's happiness is at stake, may gain the approbation of his own Judgment—my Heart renounces him!—Where can Mr. Drummond be?

Sir Ch.
I am at your Command in every thing—I ask you only to reflect.

Geo.
Well! and what's the Result of reflection?—that, in a few hours, she will be irrecoverably another's—lost to me for ever!

Sir Ch.
What, then, is your precise resolution?

Geo.
There is but one way—she is on the very point of a precipice, from which, if I do not snatch her in an instant nothing can retrieve her.—Let your carriage attend them, at some distance, with our Servants; we will follow on horseback;—I'll force her from this Tyrant Uncle, carry her instantly to Dover, and, in a few hours breathe at her feet in sweet Security in France.

Sir Ch.
Considering that your plan is an Impromptu, I admire its Consistency.—But, my dear George, have you weighed all its Consequences?—your Father—

Geo.
Will possibly disinherit me; be it so—I have six hundred a Year independent of his Will; and six hundred a year in France, with Emily Morley—Paradise!

Sir Ch.
Pity the days of Chivalry are over, or, what Applause might'st thou not expect—adventurous Knight!

Geo.
Come! we've not a moment to lose—let us get our people ready, to follow the instant the carriage sets out.

Sir Ch.
But, George—I'll not accompany you a step after the Lady is under your care:—for, if your Father should suspect that I have any hand in the enlevement, I can hope for no Success when I ask for my charming Harriet!

Geo.
Agreed—let me have your chaise, and leave me to my fortune—I will not endanger your happiness; this key will let you back at the garden door—you may give fifty reasons for your short absence.—Now, Cupid, Venus, Jupiter, and Juno—descend to our assistance! [They hurry out.]

[Enter Lady Dinah.]

Lady D.
She's gone! and my Alarms are at an end. After all, what passed in the garden was mere gallantry, and the effects of her Art; he suffered her Uncle to carry her off, with an abstinence that transports me;—it is plain I had never the least Foundation for my fears. How weak have I been, to allow my Credulity to be imposed upon, and my Temper ruffled, at a time when it was of so much importance to me—to have been serene!

[Enter Susan.]

Sus.
Oh, my Lady!—she's gone! thanks to the delightful obstinacy of the old Uncle. It was well Mr. Drummond wasn't there, I was afraid—

Lady D.
Your intrusive Joy wears a familiar aspect!—I know she's gone.

Sus.
I beg pardon, my Lady—I thought I might congratulate your Ladyship on her being carried off.—I was terribly afraid—

Lady D.
Yes, you have had fears sufficiently extraordinary! You ought to have known that the man—whom I have received as a Lover—could have felt passion, but for a moment, for such a girl as that!

Sus.
[Aside. So! so! so! how soon our spirits are got up!] I'm sure, my Lady, 'twasn't I who caused the interview in the Wood to-day, which so enraged you, and confirmed your fears; you was ready enough then to believe all that was said against him!

Lady D.
How! do you presume to reproach me with the Error into which you led me! by your fears I was governed, and not my own.—And your useless Plot, too, was as absurd as your fears.

Sus.
Useless plot! my Lady, as to that, I am sure it was a good one—and would have sent her packing even though the Uncle had not come. 'Twasn't our fault he came. We have had the same trouble, and—Service is no Inheritance—and I hope your Ladyship will consider—

Lady D.
How dare you think of a reward for implicating me in a scheme—not precisely submitted to my Discrimination!—If you obtain my Pardon, you ought to be highly gratified. Leave me, Insolent, this moment!

Sus.
[Muttering.] Ha! do you venture to use me in this manner;—I am glad you have betrayed yourself, when I can yet take a severe Revenge!—However harmless the Plot which you instigated may have been to others—you shall find it mischievous enough to yourself!

Lady D.
Stand not muttering there—retire from my Presence! [Exit Susan.] But—I have gone too far.—Now must I court my Servant! to forgive the resentment which her assumptive Impertinece occasioned. Well; 'tis but for a short time—the Marriage over, and I have done with her! I must retire now, to recover my Composure.—Perhaps he'll visit me, but not to talk of Veneration and Respect again!—oh, how I'll torment him for that, and his Adventure! nothing gives a woman such fine means of plaguing her Lover as an Affectation of Jealousy; if she actually feels it, she is his Slave; but, whilst she affects it—his Tyrant! [Exit.]

[Enter Bella and Harriet.]

Har.
How very unfortunate that Mr. Drummond is absent. He would have opposed the reasoning of Lady Dinah, and prevented their departure. Never any think was so distressing!

Bel.
Oh, there's no bearing it. Your Father is quite a manageable being, compared to this odd provoking mortal—whose imagined Flexibility withstands art, reason, every thing!

Har.
Never shall I forget the Look which she gave me, wild, yet composed, agonized, though calm, as her Uncle led her out.—I wonder where Sir Charles is? he passed me in the Hall, saying, hastily, he must tear himself away for half an hour.

Bel.
I wonder rather where your Brother is?—

[Enter Sir Charles.]

—oh, here's one of our truants, but where's the other? poor George I suppose is binding his brow with willows.

Sir Ch.
That's not George's stile in love; he doesn't cross his arms, and talk to his shadow, when he may employ his hours to more advantage.

Bel.
What do you mean?

Har.
Where is my Brother!

Sir Ch.
On the road to France.

Both.
France!

Sir Ch.
Unless Mr. Morley has as much Activity as obstinacy;—for George is in Advance of him, after having made Capture of his Niece.

Bel.
Oh! how I doat on his Knight Errantry! He is the true Lover, who, instead of patiently submitting to circumstances, boldly seizes on Fortune, and governs the accidents which he cannot avoid.

Har.
How can you praise such conduct, Bella? I, tremble for the Consequences!

Sir Ch.
What consequences, Harriet, can alarm him, who snatches the woman he loves from the fate she dreads?

[Enter Servant, hastily.]

Serv.
My Master is returned—the Lady fainted in the chaise—and he has brought her, by a cross-road, to Mr. Drummond's.

Sir Ch.
Ruin!—is Mr. Drummond at home?

Serv.
No Sir. And Mr. Morley is come back too; he drove through the gates this minute.

Bel.
Then, George will lose her at last! he erred in not pursuing his route.

Sir Ch.
He has no chance now, but through Mr. Drummond; and what can he hope from him, who has to combat the passions of three people, with no weapon but Reason!

Bel.
There they are!—and Mr. Hargrave as loud as his Huntsman.

Har.
Let us hurry to the parlour, and then we can send Intelligence of what passes to George! [Exeunt.]

Scene 2

[Another Apartment. Enter Mr. Morley and Mr. Hargrave.]

Mor.
Yes, yes, 'tis Fact, matter of Fact—upon my Credit! Your Son was actually the person who took her out of the coach!

Mr. H.
Sir, it is impossible. My Son! why, he is under engagements that would make it madness.

Mor.
Then Sir, you may depend upon it the Fit is on him now; for he clapt Emily into a chaise—whilst an impudent Puppy fasten'd on me. By Hercules! twenty years ago, I'd have given him sauce to his Cornish hug. His face I could not discern—but the other's I'll swear to.

Mr. H.
George! look for George there! I'll convince you, Sir, instantly.

[Enter Harriet.]

—where's George?

Harriet.
Sir, my Brother is at Mr. Drummond's?

Mr. H.
There! I knew it could not be George; though you would not be persuaded.

Mor.
What a plague—you cant persuade me out of my Senses. Your Son, I aver, took her out of the coach—with her own consent no doubt—and on an honorable design without doubt—Sir, I give you Joy of you daughter.

Mr. H.
Whether they live on their honour, or starve by it—not a single sous shall they have from me. But, I wont yet believe my George could be such a fool.

Mor.
Fool! Sir—the man who loves Emily gives no proof of Folly either. But, she shall be punished for her's. 'Twas a concerted affair, I see it plainly, all agreed upon—but she shall repent!

Mr. H.
Your Resentment, Sir, is extremely extraordinary.—I must tell you that my Son's ancestry, or the Estate to which he is Heir, if he has not forfeited it by Disobedience, are not objects for the Contempt of any man.

Mor.
They are objects to which I shall never be reconciled. What! have I been toiling these thirty years in Spain, to make my Niece a Match for any man in England, but to have her Fate determined by an adventure in a Post-Chaise; an evening's Frolic for a young Spark, who had nothing to do but to push the old fellow into a corner, and whisk off with the Girl? Sir, if there was not another man in the kingdom, your son should not have my consent to marry Emily.

Mr. H.
And if there was not another woman in England, I would suffer the name of Hargrave to be annihilated, rather than he should be husband to your Niece! [They walk about in great Anger.]

[Enter Mr. Drummond.]

Mr. D.
Gone! Her Uncle been here, and the amiable girl gone! What Infatuation, Mr. Hargrave, could render you so blind to the happiness that awaited your family? I'll follow this obdurate man—where's George—look for George there—

Mr. H.
There, Sir, that's the person to whom you must address your complaints.

Mr. D.
I have made discoveries of such a fraud practised upon you as must have shaken even your Prejudices—[to Hargrave]. But this Uncle! surely, my dear Harriet, you might have prevailed.

Har.
Sir, this Gentleman is Mr. Morley;—Mr. Drummond, Sir.

Mr. D.
Ah! I beg pardon Sir, I am rejoiced to see you; I understood you were gone.

Mor.
I was gone, Sir; but I was robbed of my Niece on the road; she was taken out of my coach, which forced me to return.

Mr. D.
What—carried off?

Mr. H.
Aye Sir, carried off by George, whom you have trained to such a knowledge of his Duty.

Mor.
Stopped on the King's Highway, Sir, by the fiery youth, and my Niece dragg'd from my side.

Mr. D.
Ah—ah!—admirable!

Mr. H.
What's this right too? Human Patience wont bear this!

Mr. D.
Where are they?

Har.
At your house, Sir.

Mor.
What a country am I returned to! Can a person of your Age and Character approve of—

Mr. H.
Let George do what he will—he's sure of his Approbation.

Mr. D.
Gentlemen, if you are sure Miss Morley is at my house, I am Patience itself—under all attacks!

Mor.
Sir, I'm resolved to—

[Enter Lady Dinah. Exit Harriet, frightened.]

Lady D.
So, Mr. Hargrave! So Sir! what your Son—this new Insult deprives me of Utterance!—Your Son! What is the Reason of this complicated outrage?

Mr. H.
My dear Lady Dinah, I am as much enraged as you can be—but, he shall fulfil his Engagements—depend on it he shall.

Mor.
Engagements! What the young Gentleman was engaged too!

Lady D.
[To Mr. Hargrave] Your honour is concerned, Sir; if I was sure he was drawn in by the Girl's art, and that he was convinced of the Impropriety—

Mor.
Drawn in by the Girl's Art! Whatever cause I may have to be offended with my Niece's conduct Madam, no person must speak of her with contempt in my presence. I presume this Gentleman's son was engaged to your Daughter; but that's not a sufficient reason for—

Lady D.
Daughter!—No, Sir, 'twas to me that he was engaged;—and, but for the Arts of your Niece—

Mor.
To you!—A matrimonial engagement between that Young Fellow and You! Nay then, I dont wonder at your Rage—a disappointment in Love, at your time of Life, must be the Devil.

Lady D.
Mr. Hargrave, do you suffer me to be thus insulted?—

Mr. H.
Why, my Lady, we must bear something from the Gentleman—the mistake we made about his Niece was a very awkward affair.

Mr. D.
[to Lady D.] And, in consequence of that affair, I must now entreat you—without making it necessary for me to take upon myself a most disagreeable task—to retire from this family. If you compel me to explain myself—

Lady D.
What new Insolence is this?

Mr. D.
I would spare you, my Lady—but, you are not inclined to spare yourself. Blush then, whilst I accuse you of entering into a base league with your Servants, to drive an amiable young Lady from the protection of Mr. Hargrave's family!

Mr. H.
[Aside. What!—in League with her servants?]

Lady D.
And, how dare you accuse me of this? am I to answer for my Servant's conduct!

Mr. D.
Their wickedness I have lately learnt is but a natural result from the Principles with which you have disported yourself in poisoning their minds. Led from behind the protection of religion, they were left without support against Temptations to which, Madam, you know Philosophy opposes its shield in vain.

Lady D.
[Aside. I feel his Superiority to my inmost Soul!—but, he shall not see his triumph.]—Is it Virtue, Sir, that prompts you to induce Mr. Hargrave to break through every tie of honour—through the most solemn engagements!

Mr. D.
I have just heard these convenient terms prostituted too by your Servants, as they reproached you with not keeping your Engagements to them.

Lady D.
[Aside] Ah!—am I then betrayed?

[Enter George, leading Emily.]

Geo.
Miss Morley, Sir, commanded me to lead her to you. I cannot ask you to pardon a rashness of which I do not repent.

Mor.
Ah! did you really insist on returning to me?

Em.
I left Mr. Drummond's, Sir, the moment I knew you were here.

Mor.
I'll not forget it. Come child, the coach is at the door, and we must make speed to retrieve our lost time. But, have a care, young Gentleman, though I pardon your extravagance once, a second attempt shall find me prepared for yoru reception.

Geo.
If Miss Morley consents to go with you, Sir, you have no second attempt to fear. But,—[to Emily] in this Crisis of our Fate, I publicly intreat you to accept the eternal Love which I swear to you!

[Next three lines all together]

Mor.
So, so, so!

Mr. H.
What, without my Leave!

Lady D.
Amazing!

Em.
At such a moment as this, meanly to disguise my sentiments would be unworthy of the woman to whom you pay such a tribute. I therefore frankly confess that the only bar to my acceptance of your proferred Love is—the want of their Consent who have a right to dispose of us.

Mor.
That you will not have frank Madam—so no more Ceremonies, but away. [Seizing her arm, and going off.]

Mr. D.
Impenetrable man! I have discovered Sir, that your Niece is the Daughter of Major Morley—one of the earliest friends of my youth. He would not have inflicted the distress she now endures: I will be a Father to his Orphan family, and insure the Felicity of two children on the point of being sacrificed to the Ambition and Avarice of those, on whose hearts nature has engraven Duties which they wilfully misunderstand.

Lady D.
What! are you not content with the insults you have offered to me and Mr. Hargrave, but you must interfere with this Gentleman in the disposal of his Niece!

Mr. H.
There's never any stopping him—he knows not how to value the Authority of a Parent.

Mr. D.
But, I will show that I know how to perform its Duties! And, whilst you, mistaken men, condemn these to misery for Life, the Happiness they vainly claim from you—they shall receive from me. On Miss Morley I will settle the jointur'd land of my departed wife—and George shall now partake that Fortune, to which I have already made him Heir.

Mr. H.
What can these Servants have told him, that makes him so warm? It is time I should hear their tale! [Exit, unperceived by Lady Dinah.]

Mor.
Why, Sir, this is Friendship indeed! settle Estates!—I am glad Brother Tom had Prudence enough to form such a Connection—'twas seldom he minded the Main Chance;—instead of that, Honour and running after ragged colours with a greasy knapsack were—

Mr. D.
Hold, Sir! I have served! and love the Profession. The Army is not more the school of Honour, than of every Generous Passion. A British Soldier is a fellow-citizen with the whole World, he feels that every man of Character is his Friend and Brother—except in the moment in which he is the Enemy of his Sovereign; and, when his sword has made his foe his Captive, the Urbanity of his Heart—gains a willing Subject to his country!

Mor.
Nay, if you have all this Romance, I dont wonder at your proposal.—However, though your Lands might have been necessary for Mr. Morley's Daughter—my Niece, if she marries with my consent, shall be obliged to no other man for a Fortune.

Lady D.
The Insolence of making me witness all this—is become insupportable!—Is this you, Sir, who this very morning paid your Vows to me?

Geo.
Your Pardon for the Error of the morning; I imagined myself paying my devoirs to a Lady who was to become—my Mother!

Lady D.
Your Mother! Sir—your Mother!—Mr. Hargrave?—where is Mr. Hargrave?

[Enter Mr. Hargrave.]

Mr. H.
I am here, my Lady—and have just heard a tale of so atrocious a nature from your servants, that I would not, for half my Estate, that such an affair should have happened in my family.

Lady D.
And can you believe the Malice?

Mr. H.
Indeed I do.

Lady D.
Mr. Drummond's Arts have then succeeded!

Mr. H.
Your arts have not my Lady, and you have no chance for a Husband now, I believe, unless you can prevail upon George—to make a Runaway match with You!

Lady D.
Insolent Wretches!—Order my Equipage!—Beneath this roof I will not stay another moment. When Persons, of my Rank, thus condescend to mix with Plebeians—like a Phoenix that appears within the ken of common birds they are stared at and flouted, till, to escape from the insults of Ignorance and Envy, they are forced to ascend again to their proper region! [Exit. As Lady Dinah goes off, George fixes his eye on his Father; and points after her.]

Mr. H.
[Catching George's hand.] My dear Boy, I believe we were wrong here, and I am heartily glad we have escaped. But, I suppose you'll forgive and forget, when I tell you I have no objection your endeavouring to prevail on this Gentleman.

Geo.
Nothing, dear Sir, can diminish the most unbounded Gratitude for the permission. Now—may I hope Sir—

Mor.
Hope, Sir!—Upon my word I dont know what to say;—you have contrived to carry affairs to such a length, that asking my consent, I begin to perceive, is become but a matter of Form.

Mr. H.
I, for my part, begin to find out, Sir, that, in some cases, Children should lead. But—pray keep me in countenance, that I may'nt think I yielded too soon.

Mr. D.
To become a very joyous Circle, your Consent, Sir, is all we want. Let us prevail upon you to permit your beloved Emily to receive the Addresses of my Godson, and, for many happy years hence, your Memory will recur to his boldness on the road, as the most fortunate rencontre of your life.—You shall come and live amongst us, and we will study to reconcile you to your native Country; amidst the degeneracy which may exist, we will find room enough to act virtuously, and in England to enjoy the Rewards of virtue—more securely than in any other part of the Earth.

Mor.
Sir, I like you; promise me your Friendship, and you shall dispose of my Niece.

Mr. D.
I accept the condition with pleasure.

Mor.
Well—here I am—as usual—persuaded out of my resolution—a perfect proverb for Flexibility!

Geo.
Oh, Sir, permit me—

Mor.
Nay, indulge not in Joy too soon. Now you have got me on your side, Emily begins to feel her usual reluctance to a choice of mine—eh? what say you?

Em.
The proof I have given of my sentiments, Sir, shows that in displaying reluctance I should make a vain attempt to disguise my feelings.

Geo.
Enchanting Frankness! my heart, through life, will thank you.—But, what shall I say to you [To Drummond]—to you, Sir, to whom I already owe—

Mr. D.
Nothing. The Heart, George, must have some Attachments—mine has for many years been center'd in you; if I have struggled for your happiness 'twas to gratify myself.

Geo.
Oh, Sir, why will you continually excite feelings—to which you refuse Utterance?—Seymour, behold in me the happiest of men!

Sir Ch.
May your Bliss, my dear George, be as permanent as it is great!—Allow me Sir [to Mr. Hargrave] to seize this propitious moment to ask your consent to a second union. I'll prove George's exclusive claim a vain boast—if you permit me to entreat Miss Hargrave for her hand.

Mr. H.
Sir Charles, there was no moment in which I shuld not have heard this request with pleasure. Why, Harriet—I perceive no Anger in your eye at Sir Charles's request!

Har.
Your Harriet, Sir, is spared the pain of feeling reluctance—to that which gives you so much pleasure!

Bel.
Upon my word you look quite insulting with your happiness. I seem quite a deserted damsel amongst ye! But—I chance to have received a Letter, which informs me—that a certain person—

Geo.
Of the name of—Belville—

Bel.
Be quiet!—is landed at Dover, and posting hither—with all the saucy Confidence our Engagment inspires him with.

Mr. D.
Say you so? Then we'll have all the Weddings celebrated in one day.

Bel.
Oh, mercy!—I wont hear of it. To love may be endurable—but to honour! and obey! 'tis strange we never had Interest enough to get the ungallant form mended.

Mr. D.
The Vow, my dear Bella, in the Marriage Ceremony, was prudently introduced for common apprehensions. But Love—in refined minds—excites a train of sweet Attentions, which, without the Alloy of feeling that a mere Contract is performed, are bestowed with constant delight! May those who are entering on this state—You—and You [to Bella significantly] and You [to the Audience] possess the blissful envied lot of—Married Lovers!

Epilogue

[Written by Garrick. Spoken by Bella.]

Post haste from Italy arrives my Lover!
Shall I to you, good friends, my Fears discover?
Should Foreign Modes his virtues mar and mangle,
And Caro Sposo prove—Sir Dingle Dangle,
No sooner joined than separate we go,
Abroad, we never shall each other know,
At Home, I mope above—he'll pick his teeth below.
In sweet domestic Chat we ne'er shall mingle,
And, wedded though I am, shall still live single.

However modish, I detest this plan:
For me no maukish creature, weak and wan,
He must be English, and an english Man.
To Nature and his Country false and blind
Should Belville dare to twist his form and mind,
I will discard him: and, to Britain true,
A Briton chuse—and, may be, one of You!
Nay—dont be frighten'd—I am but in jest,
Free Men, in Love, or War, should ne'er be press'd.

If you would know my utmost expectation,
'Tis one unspoil'd by travell'd education;
With Knowledge, Taste, much Kindness, and some Whim,
Good Sense to govern me—and let me govern him:
Great love of me must keep his heart from roving,
Then I'll forgive him, if he proves too loving.
If, in these times, I should be bless'd by Fate
With such a Phoenix, such a matchless Mate,
I will by kindness, and some small discerning,
Take care that Hymen's torch continues burning—
At Weddings, now-a-days, the Torch thrown down
Just makes a smoke, then stinks throughout the town!

No married puritan, I'll follow pleasure
And e'en the Fashion—but, in moderate measure:
I will of Op'ra Extasies partake
Though I take Snuff to keep myself awake;
No rampant Plumes shall o'er my temples play
Foretelling that my Brains will fly away,
Nor from my head shall strange Vagaries spring
To show the soil can teem with every thing—
No Fruits, Roots, Greens, shall fill the ample space
A Kitchen-Garden to adorn my face!
No Rocks shall there be seen, no Windmill, Fountain,
Nor Curls, like Guns, set round to guard the Mountain!
Oh, learn ye Fair, if this same madness spreads,
Not to hold up—but, to keep down—your heads.
—Be not misled by strange fantastic art,
But, in your Dress let Nature take some part—
Her skill alone a lasting Power insures,
And best can ornament such Charms—as your's!

END OF ACT V