Marplot in Lisbon by Centlivre Susanna

Author:Centlivre, Susanna
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction, drama, comedy
Publisher: Distributed Proofreaders Canada
Published: 1760-11-08T00:00:00+00:00

Serv. Here's Colonel Ravelin, and another Gentleman to wait on you, Madam.

Mad. Bring 'em up.

[Rising in a hurry, and

running to the Glass.

Mart. Ha! the Colonel! oh my Heart: I must be gone; I wou'd not have him know me for the World——Well, Sister, I'll leave you to your desirable Company.

[Exit.

Mad. Adieu, ma Soeur.——

Enter Colonel Ravelin and Charles.

Ah! Monsieur le Colonel!——

Rav. Ah Mademoiselle Joneton!——

Mad. Ha, ha, ha! I have a most comical Story to tell you, ha, ha, ha! such an Amour, ha, ha, ha! such a Letter, ha, ha! such a Conquest;—what makes me so merry? I am sure I have Cause enough to the contrary; my poor Paroquet is dead, Colonel.

Rav. Dead!

Mad. Dead, it died upon my Hand, it talk'd and buss'd me till the last Moment; oh my Heart is broke, oh, oh, oh, oh. [Weeps.]

Cha. So, she's resolv'd to play over all her Tricks I see. [Aside.]

Mad. Oh I can't contain myself when I think on't, oh, oh.

Rav. Oh unlucky Accident; give her Air.

Cha. In my Opinion she has already too much of that.

Rav. Mrs. Susan, loose her Lace; within there, bring some cold Water. [Enter Servant with Water.] She revives; for Heaven's sake how do you do, Madam? Come I'll procure you another Paroquet.

Mad. Oh not so divertisant, it had a thousand pretty Actions; one Day as Monsieur le Markee de belle Jambe was entertaining me with a Recital of his Amours—ha, ha, ha! I have a pleasant Tale to tell you of him too, ha, ha, ha, ha! he's marry'd, ha, ha, ha!

Cha. Upon the Titter again, deliver me from such a Medley I say. [Aside.]

Mad. To a thirty thousand Pound Fortune, ha, ha! but the Estate lies in Terra Incognita; I have recommended Imagination for his Steward, and Philosophy for his Equipage, ha, ha, ha!

Rav. The Marquis let me into the Secret, ha, ha! pray who is the Lady that has done him the Favour?

Mad. Oh my Stars, what ails me? ah Maria Mater, the Room goes round.

Rav. A Chair there, Mrs. Susan; repose yourself a little, Madam, 'tis only Vapours, and will off again; these Affectations in another I shou'd hate, but here I'm fated to the Folly.

Cha. Most fantastical: the Duce take me if I can bring myself to the Complaisance of asking her how she does. [Aside.]

Rav. How do you, Madam?

Mad. Oh much better, Colonel, 'tis impossible any Malady can stay long in your Company; I admire your Friend can be so melancholy with a Companion so diverting.

Cha. I confess the Colonel is of a singular good Humour, Madam, for an Englishman; we, generally speaking, are dull, heavy, thinking Animals, not mov'd by the losing of a Father.

Mad. Most unpolite! such a Lover as this, wou'd make me as splenetic as fourscore.

Rav. Alas, Madam, he's married.

Mad. Married! nay then I forgive him;—yet upon second Thoughts, I won't neither, for he ought to have left his dogged Humours at Home, and not stamp Wife in the Forehead of every Woman he meets.

Cha. He's mad that wou'd stamp any thing upon thee I'm sure.

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