the way of the world(如此世道)-第17节
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good rascally sort of topsy…turvy fellows。 If I had a bumper I'd stand upon
my head and drink a health to 'em。 A match or no match； cousin with the
hard name； aunt； Wilfull will do't。 If she has her maidenhead let her look
to 't； if she has not； let her keep her own counsel in the meantime； and cry
out at the nine months' end。
MILLA。 Your pardon； madam； I can stay no longer。 Sir Wilfull grows
very powerful。 Egh！ how he smells！ I shall be overcome if I stay。 Come；
cousin。
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SCENE XI。
LADY WISHFORT； SIR WILFULL WITWOUD； MR。 WITWOUD；
FOIBLE。
LADY。 Smells？ He would poison a tallow…chandler and his family。
Beastly creature； I know not what to do with him。 Travel； quotha； ay；
travel； travel； get thee gone； get thee but far enough； to the Saracens； or the
Tartars； or the Turksfor thou art not fit to live in a Christian
commonwealth； thou beastly pagan。
SIR WIL。 Turks？ No； no Turks； aunt。 Your Turks are infidels； and
believe not in the grape。 Your Mahometan； your Mussulman is a dry
stinkard。 No offence； aunt。 My map says that your Turk is not so honest a
man as your ChristianI cannot find by the map that your Mufti is
orthodox； whereby it is a plain case that orthodox is a hard word； aunt； and
＇hiccup＇ Greek for claret。 ＇Sings＇：…
To drink is a Christian diversion； Unknown to the Turk or the Persian。
Let Mahometan fools Live by heathenish rules； And be damned over tea…
cups and coffee。 But let British lads sing； Crown a health to the King； And
a fig for your Sultan and Sophy。
Ah； Tony！ ＇FOIBLE whispers LADY W。＇
LADY。 Sir Rowland impatient？ Good lack！ what shall I do with this
beastly tumbril？ Go lie down and sleep； you sot； or as I'm a person； I'll
have you bastinadoed with broomsticks。 Call up the wenches with
broomsticks。
SIR WIL。 Ahey！ Wenches？ Where are the wenches？
LADY。 Dear Cousin Witwoud； get him away； and you will bind me to
you inviolably。 I have an affair of moment that invades me with some
precipitation。You will oblige me to all futurity。
WIT。 Come； knight。 Pox on him； I don't know what to say to him。 Will
you go to a cock…match？
SIR WIL。 With a wench； Tony？ Is she a shake…bag； sirrah？ Let me bite
your cheek for that。
WIT。 Horrible！ He has a breath like a bagpipe。 Ay； ay； come； will you
march； my Salopian？
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SIR WIL。 Lead on； little Tony。 I'll follow thee； my Anthony； my
Tantony。 Sirrah； thou shalt be my Tantony； and I'll be thy pig。
And a fig for your Sultan and Sophy。
LADY。 This will never do。 It will never make a match；at least
before he has been abroad。
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The Way of the World
SCENE XII。
LADY WISHFORT； WAITWELL disguised as for SIR ROWLAND。
LADY。 Dear Sir Rowland； I am confounded with confusion at the
retrospection of my own rudeness；I have more pardons to ask than the
pope distributes in the year of jubilee。 But I hope where there is likely to
be so near an alliance； we may unbend the severity of decorum； and
dispense with a little ceremony。
WAIT。 My impatience； madam； is the effect of my transport； and till I
have the possession of your adorable person； I am tantalised on the rack；
and do but hang； madam； on the tenter of expectation。
LADY。 You have excess of gallantry； Sir Rowland； and press things to
a conclusion with a most prevailing vehemence。 But a day or two for
decency of marriage …
WAIT。 For decency of funeral； madam！ The delay will break my heart…
…or if that should fail； I shall be poisoned。 My nephew will get an inkling
of my designs and poison meand I would willingly starve him before I
dieI would gladly go out of the world with that satisfaction。 That would
be some comfort to me； if I could but live so long as to be revenged on
that unnatural viper。
LADY。 Is he so unnatural； say you？ Truly I would contribute much
both to the saving of your life and the accomplishment of your revenge。
Not that I respect myself； though he has been a perfidious wretch to me。
WAIT。 Perfidious to you？
LADY。 O Sir Rowland； the hours that he has died away at my feet； the
tears that he has shed； the oaths that he has sworn； the palpitations that he
has felt； the trances and the tremblings； the ardours and the ecstasies； the
kneelings and the risings； the heart… heavings and the hand…gripings； the
pangs and the pathetic regards of his protesting eyes！Oh； no memory can
register。
WAIT。 What； my rival？ Is the rebel my rival？ A dies。
LADY。 No； don't kill him at once； Sir Rowland： starve him gradually；
inch by inch。
WAIT。 I'll do't。 In three weeks he shall be barefoot； in a month out at
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knees with begging an alms； he shall starve upward and upward； 'till he
has nothing living but his head； and then go out in a stink like a candle's
end upon a save…all。
LADY。 Well； Sir Rowland； you have the way；you are no novice in
the labyrinth of love；you have the clue。 But as I am a person； Sir
Rowland； you must not attribute my yielding to any sinister appetite or
indigestion of widowhood； nor impute my complacency to any lethargy of
continence。 I hope you do not think me prone to any iteration of nuptials？
WAIT。 Far be it from me …
LADY。 If you do； I protest I must recede； or think that I have made a
prostitution of decorums； but in the vehemence of compassion； and to save
the life of a person of so much importance …
WAIT。 I esteem it so …
LADY。 Or else you wrong my condescension …
WAIT。 I do not； I do not …
LADY。 Indeed you do。
WAIT。 I do not； fair shrine of virtue。
LADY。 If you think the least scruple of causality was an ingredient …
WAIT。 Dear madam； no。 You are all camphire and frankincense； all
chastity and odour。
LADY。 Or that …
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SCENE XIII。
＇To them＇ FOIBLE。
FOIB。 Madam； the dancers are ready； and there's one with a letter； who
must deliver it into your own hands。
LADY。 Sir Rowland； will you give me leave？ Think favourably； judge
candidly； and conclude you have found a person who would suffer racks in
honour's cause； dear Sir Rowland； and will wait on you incessantly。
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SCENE XIV。
WAITWELL； FOIBLE。
WAIT。 Fie； fie！ What a slavery have I undergone； spouse； hast thou
any cordial？ I want spirits。
FOIB。 What a washy rogue art thou； to pant thus for a quarter of an
hour's lying and swearing to a fine lady？
WAIT。 Oh； she is the antidote to desire。 Spouse； thou wilt fare the
worse for't。 I shall have no appetite to iteration of nuptials… …this eight…and…
forty hours。 By this hand I'd rather be a chairman in the dog…days than act
Sir Rowland till this time to…morrow。
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SCENE XV。
＇To them＇ LADY with a letter。
LADY。 Call in the dancers； Sir Rowland； we'll sit； if you please； and
see the entertainment。 ＇Dance。＇ Now； with your permission； Sir Rowland； I
will peruse my letter。 I would open it in your presence； because I would
not make you uneasy。 If it should make you uneasy； I would burn itspeak
if it doesbut you may see； the superscription is like a woman's hand。
FOIB。 By heaven！ Mrs。 Marwood's； I know it；my heart achesget it
from her！ ＇To him。＇
WAIT。 A woman's hand？ No madam； that's no woman's hand： I see
that already。 That's somebody whose throat
