A Bickerstaff's burying: or, work for the upholders. A farce; as it is acted at the theatres, with applause. By His Majesty's servants. Written by Mrs. Susanna Centlivre: ...

Table of contents

- [titlepage]

- Dramatis Personae.

- To the Magnificent COMPANY of UPHOLDERS, &c.

- SCENE I.

- SCENE II.

- SCENE III.

- SCENE IV.

- POEMS and PLAYS Printed for, and sold by George Risk, Booksellillegible at the Corner of Castle-lane in Dames-street.

A Bickerstaff's Burying; OR, Work for the Upholders.

FINIS.

〈1 page duplicate〉

〈1 page duplicate〉

A Bickerstaff's Burying; OR, Work for the Upholders. A FARCE; As it is ACTED at the THEATRES, with Applause. By His MAJESTY'S Servants.

Written by Mrs. Susanna Centlivre: Author of The Gamester, a Comedy.

DUBLIN: Printed by S. Powell, for George Risk, at the Corner of Castle-lane in Dame-street, near the Horse guard, MDCCXXIV.

Dramatis Personae.

MEN.

- Mezro.

- Captain.

- Boatswain.

- 1st Sailor.

- 2d Sailor.

WOMEN.

- Lady Mezro.

- Isabinda, her Niece.

- A Lady.

- Officer.

- Servants.

- Lucy.

To the Magnificent COMPANY of UPHOLDERS, &c.

CƲstom has made some Things absolutely necessary, and two Sheets without a Dedication, or a Preface, by way of Excuse, would be an unpardonable Indecency: To avoid which, I was considering at whose Feet to lay these following Scenes. First I thought of offering it to all those young Wives who had sold themselves for Money, and been inter'd with Misery from the first Day of their Marriage; but supposing their chief Pleasure to consist in Pride, and that they had rather gratify their Ambition in the Arms of a Fool, or Fourscore, than wed a Man of Sense of narrower Fortunes, I concluded 'em unworthy of my Notice.

Then the Race of Old Men presented themselves in my Mind, who, despising Women of their own Years, marry Girls of fifteen, by which they keep open House for all the young Fellows in Town, in order to encre•se their Families, and make their Tables flourish like the Vine: But my Aversion to Fools of all Kinds, made me decline them too.

At last, casting my Eyes upon the Title of the F•rce, I found it could justly belong to none but the Magnificent Company of Upholders, whom the judicious Censor of Great Britain has so often condescended to mention; to you then, worthy Sirs, whose solemn Train keeps up the pompous State of Beauty, beyond the Limits of a Gasp of Breath, and draws the gazing World to admire, even after Death; to you this Piece I Dedicate; 'tis but Reason that you should receive some Tribute from us Living, who so truly mourn us dead. What does not Mankind owe to you? All Ranks and Conditions are obliged to you; th• Aged and the Young, the Generous and the Miser, th• well descended and the boser born. The Escutcheons gar¦nish out the Hearse, the Streamers and Wax Lights, let 〈◊〉 into the Name of a Man, which, all his Life had been hi• in Obscurity; and many a Right Honourable would fal unlamented, we•e it not for your decent Cloaks, and dis¦mal Faces, that look as sorrowful as the Creditors the leave unpaid. What an immense Sum might be rais'd from your Art to carry on the War, would you, like true Briton• exert your Power? The People being fond of Sights, wh• might not be g•ther'd at a Funeral, when the Rooms a• clad in Sable, the Body dressd out with all your skilfu• Care, the Tapers burning in their Silver Socke•s, th• weeping Virgins fixt like Statues round, and aromat• Gums persume the Chambers, I think it preferable to th• Puppet Show, and a Peny a Head for all the Curiou• would, I dare be positive, amount to more than the Candl• Tax; and so make Death subservient to the Living.

But this, Gentlemen, I leave to your superior Judgme•• in Politick Principles; and only beg leave to remind yo• that in this crouded Town, there are a Prodigious Numb•• of Mr. Bickerstaff's Dead Men, that swarm about Streets therefore, for the Sakes of the most ingenious Part of Ma• kind, you ought to take Care to interr them out of 〈◊〉 Way, since he that does no Good in his Generation, shoul• not be reckon'd among the Living.

And now to conclude, Gentlemen, I hope you'll pard•• this Liberty I have taken, and accept this as a Token 〈◊〉 the Respect I bear your noble Society: I honour you tho' have no Desire of falling into your Hands, but I thi• we Poets are in no Danger of that, since our real Esta•¦lies in the Brain, and our personal consists in two or th•• loose Scenes, a few Couplets for the Tag of an Act, and slight Sketch for a •ong, and as I take it, you are 〈◊〉 over-fond of Paper-Credit, where there is no Probabili•• of recovering the Debt: So wishing you better Custome•• I expect no Return, but am proud of subscribing 〈◊〉 self,

GENTLEMEN,
Your most obedient humble Serv•••

SCENE I.

A working Sea seen at a Distance, with the Appearance of a Head of a Ship bulging against a Rock: Mermaids rise and sing: Thunder and Lightning: Then the Scene shuts.

Enter Lady Mezro, and her Neice Isabinda, vail'd.

Isab.

WHY won't you tell me whither you are going, Aunt, this Morning? I can scarce keep Pace with you. What is it that transports you so? you do not use to be so gay.

Lady M.

Oh, my Girl, just now, from my Chamber-Window, I beheld a Ship, by Stress of Weather, driven on our Coast; which, since the last unhappy one that brought me here, I have never seen; pray Heav'n it be English!

Isab.

So say I, then I shall see the fine Men you have so often talk'd of, Aunt.

Lady M.

Ay, and the Country that breeds those Men, Child, if we can handsomly get off.

Isab.

With all my Heart; for I hate this Isle of Corgar, and all its barbarous Laws, since you have inform'd me of those of Great Britain.

Lady M.

Hush here's some of the Ship's Crew; let's step a-side and observe them.

(Exeunt.

Enter Captain, Boson, and Sailors.

Capt.

Well, how fares the Ship, has she any Damage?

Bos.

Only the Leak, which the Carpenter has stop'd, Captain.

Capt.

That's well: I can't imagine what this Island produces!

Bos

Monsters, I think; for they stare as if they never had any Commerce with Mankind, or ever saw a Ship in their Lives.

Capt.

I question if ever they did, and wish it had not been our Fortune to have improv'd their Knowledge.

1 Sail.

I wish so too; I hate making strange Land: Who the Devil knows where to find a Wench now?

Bos.

Heres a •og, that two Hours ago, drown'd his necessary Orders with his Prayers, and now is roaring as loud for a Whore

1 Sail.

'Tis our Custom, you know; out of Danger the Sailor must be merry i'Faith; ha, ha.

2 Sail.

Nell, at the Ship at Chattam, shall know this.

1 Sail.

I care not a Rope's-end if she does: Why, what the Devil do you think I'll come into a strange Land, and not examine what Commodity it produces? No, no, Faith; Nick must know if the Females here be Fish or Flesh, before he puts off again.

Capt

Ha, ha; Well, well, take Care you han't your Brains beat out: Go, disperse your selves, and see what Provisions you can get. I just now met a Native of the Country; who tells me, that the Prince is coming this Way: He understands a little of the Arabian Tongue, and has promis'd to introduce me to him; that I may endeavour, by some Presents, to gain his Leave to re-fit our Ship, and supply our Wants.

Bos.

Where shall we find you, Master?

(Exeunt Boson and Sailors.

Capt.

Here, or hereabouts. Now for the Cabbacuca. Adsheart, what a Name's there! If the Prince be as barbarous as his Name, we had as good perish'd in the Storm: but I wonder the Fellow comes not, that is to conduct me to Court; that is, I suppose, to a King sitting under a Palm-tree: What would I give for a Friend there?

Enter Lady, and Isabinda.

Lady.

(Clapping him on the Shoulder) What would you give, Captain?

Capt.

Ha! English! Nay, then I am not so far out of Knowledge as I imagin'd.

Lady.

You are a great Way from the Rose in Covent Garden, I promise you.

Capt.

The Rose in Covent Garden! Let me see thy Face, thou dear Angel, or a die. (Embraces her.)

Lady M.

Die! Nay, then you have chang'd your Inclination with the Clime; you never us'd to die for an old Acquaintance.

Capt.

Ah! an old Acquaintance, here, Child, is welcomer than old Wine, and the Accident will give it a new Relish.

Lady M.

Say you so? well, whether you speak Truth or not, I protest this Sight of you pleases me better than the first; and now, Sir, I am your humble Servant. (Turns up her Vail.

Capt.

Ha! Mrs. Take-it! Why what Wind blew you hither?

Lady M.

Just such another as brought you, I fancy; our Ship was bound to Madderass.

Capt.

So was mine.

Lady M.

After three Days tempestuous Weather, having lost our Main-mast, and all our Tackle, expecting nothing but Death, when by a sudden Gust our Vessel was driven upon you dreadful Rock, which split her into a thousand Pieces, and only I by Providence was sav'd.

Capt.

Thank Heav'n, I've not lost one Man; I pity your Misfortune, and yet, by your Appearance, 'tis a Fault to pity you, for it has turn'd to your Advantage Prithee what Business had you in the Indies?

Lady M.

To get a Husband; you know few Wom•• go there but to make their Fortunes.

Capt.

Which I suppose you have done here, Madam

Lady M.

An Emir, which is a Lord, you must und••¦stand, walking by the Sea-side, spied me on the Rock, 〈◊〉 kindly help'd me down, fell in Love, and married 〈◊〉 and I am now one of the greatest Women upon the Pla••

Capt.

I am glad on't, with all my Soul. Who is 〈◊〉 Lady? another of my old Acquaintance too?

Lady M.

No, I promise you; there's a Face never 〈◊〉 Covent Garden. She's my Husband's Niece, the best ••¦mour'd Woman in the World; and for her Beauty, 〈◊〉 that speak for it self, (turns up her Vail) so, I see 〈◊〉 your Eyes you like her.

Isab.

Grant, Great Prophet, that he may! for I li•• him, I'm sure. (Asi••

Capt.

Like her! I'Gad, if your Island's peopled wi•• such Angels, tis certainly the Land of Promise, and eve•• Ship will put in here for Provision.

Lady M.

She's the only handsome one in it, I prom••… you; her Mother was English, and cast hither by such •¦nother Accident as my self.

Isab.

And do you think this Face will do in Cov••• Garden, Captain?

Capt.

In Covent Garden, Madam! Where would it 〈◊〉 do? Ha! your Skin's as smooth as the Sea in a Cal•… and your Eyes outshine the Sun after a Storm; your Voi•• as sweet as Syrens Songs; and 'tis greater Pleasure to b•¦hold you, than Land after a dangerous Voyage. I'll se••… here, I'm resolv'd.

Lady M.

Ah, the right London Strain. (Asi••

Isab.

And I'de rather go with him. (Asi••

Capt.

Where the Devil is my Ship's Crew? I'll ha•• the Bottom of my Ship beaten out immediately, tha••… may never put to Sea again.

Isab.

I'm afraid, young Gentleman, you'll change yo•• Note if you knew the Custom of this Country.

Lady M.

Indeed, my quondam Spark, you'd be glad 〈◊〉 get off in a Cock-Boat if you do, by that time you ha•• been married half so long as I have been—I'm sure 〈◊〉 would.

Capt.

Ay? why so? you shine in Jewels.

Lady M.

I once thought Riches the greatest, but now find them the least Part of Happiness.

Capt.

Oh, you want to see dear England again, and dazle the Eyes of your old Acquaintance.

Lady M.

That's not the Cause.

Capt.

Your Husband is old, I suppose?

Lady M.

True.

Capt.

What is that to my Repentance? This Lady is young.

Lady M.

Then he is as ugly as a Baboon.

Capt.

Yet wide; this Lady's as handsome as a Cherubin.

Lady M.

He's as jealous as a Spaniard, as barbarous as a Turk, and as ill-natur'd as an old Woman; and I hate him as heartily as one Beauty does another; yet fear him as much as you Merchant-Men do a French Privateer.

Capt.

Why there's nothing super-natural in all this; Women hate their Husbands all the World over.

Isab.

I'm sure! should never hate you, if I had you once. (Aside) And are not you even with us, Captain?

Capt.

I won't answer for the whole Sex; but I'll engage for my self, if thou'lt but try me, Child.

Isab.

First here the Conditions annext to Matrimony; then, if you'll venture—

Capt.

Venture! What the Devil dost think I that have fac'd so many Dangers, should be afraid of fresh Water?

Lady M.

Have a care what you say, Captain; for six to four but you'll wish your self unmarried again; as heartily as I do.

Enter Lucy.

Lucy.

Oh Madam! undone! undone! my Lord's just dying.

Lady M.

Ah!

Capt.

Undone! Pish, Pox, 'tis the best News thou ever brought'st in thy Life, Wench.

Lady M.

Ruin'd! past Redemption! Oh that ever I was born!

Capt.

Ha! what's the Meaning of this?

Isab.

Oh unhappy Woman!

Capt.

Unhappy! adsheart, I should have guess'd her the happiest Woman in the World, now.

Lady M.

Fly, call Physicians strait, here, bribe 'em 〈◊〉 Jewels, (tears off the Jewels) give 'em a King's Randso• if they can but save his Life, load 'em with Wealth 〈◊〉 they sink beneath the Weight. Oh! my latest Hou••… come!

Capt.

What the Devil can be the Matter? why all 〈◊〉 Noise? Here's none but Friends; I don't apprehend 〈◊〉 any body can over-hear you; this is something like 〈◊〉 Irish Cry; I suppose it is the Custom of the Count•• (Asi••)

Lady M.

Oh no! Neither Heaven nor Earth will h••… me now! I'm lost, for ever lost! Oh, oh, oh!

Capt.

Humph! now I have found it; all the Esta•• goes with him, I warrant.

Lady M.

Estate! sink the Estate! my Life goes wi•• him!

Isab.

Oh cruel, oh inhuman Law!

Capt.

What a-pox, she wont die for the Man she hat•• will she? Did you not wish to be unmarried just now and are you sorry that your Husband's a-dying? 〈◊〉 Woman's distracted sure!

Lady M.

Oh, I must be burried with him alive! 〈◊〉 dreadful Thought.

(Runs 〈◊〉

Capt.

Ha! how's that! Buried alive! I'm Thunde• struck! Stay, I conjure you, Madam, (to Isabinda) 〈◊〉 explain to me this Riddle.

Isab.

It is, Sir, the barbarous Custom of our Country first ordain'd from frequent Poisoning here, that which soever of the married Pair died first, the Survivor is bu¦ried with alive, drest, and adorn'd, for a second Nuptial

Capt.

E'gad it has turn'd my Stomach against the first (aside) Unheard of Barbarity! Is none exempt the Pai•… of the Country?

Isab.

None; all let down a deep hollow Mountain with some Loaves of Bread, and some Bottles of Water, on which they may feed for some time, and then expire within the loathsome Dungeon. My Mother in her Bloom was with my Father buried: I was but thrice twelve Moons old; yet I remember even then it rais'd a Horror in me, and as I grew up, fixt a Resolution in me, never to wed in this curst Place.

Capt.

Faith you had Reason, Madam, and I admire 〈◊〉 any body does.

Isab.

Custom has made it easy to the true Cosgarian •…ce, but I have a British Soul.

Capt.

You must be rescued from this Imposition; your ••…nt too must be sav'd.

Isab.

But how? If he dies, the Officers of Justice seize 〈◊〉; nay, 'tis Death for all the Houshold if Information 〈◊〉 not given strait. Upon the Wedding-day, two Coffins 〈◊〉 always brought into the Bride-Chamber, as Part of 〈◊〉 Ceremony.

Capt.

E'gad I should have small Appetite to finish the ••remony at the Sight of 'em.

Isab.

This is the deplorable State of Matrimony in our ••untry.

Capt.

If it were the Custom all over the World, we ••ung Fellows should live deliciously; Women would be 〈◊〉 plenty as Blackberries; we might put forth our Hands 〈◊〉 take them without Jointures, Settlements, Pin-mony, ••rson, and so forth.

(Noise.)

Isab.

Hark! I hear a Noise! Oh my poor Aunt! I ••st in, and see the Event.

Capt.

First promise me that if I contrive a Way to bear ••u hence, you'll consent to go with me?

Isab.

With all my Heart, there's my Hand upon it; 〈◊〉 have no time for Courtship; I'll meet you here again 〈◊〉 an Hour. (Exit.)

Capt.

Now if I can but handsomly carry off these Wo ••n, their Jewels will turn to better Account than an ••st-India Voyage.

Enter Boson and Sailors.

Well, what cheer, my Lads; I have seen the Prince, 〈◊〉 obtain'd his Leave for every thing I ask'd.

1 Sail.

Cheer! why Faith, Captain, we sail directly ••…ore the Wind; and I want but your Consent to make 〈◊〉 richest Port in the Universe.

Capt.

What do you mean?

• Sail.

What! why I can have a fine Lady here, with 〈◊〉 many Jewels about her as will ballast a Ship if you'll 〈◊〉 give me my Discharge; nay, I won't be ungrateful for it neither, you shall have all my Pay: What say y•• Master, will you lend me your Hand to heave me 〈…〉 good Fortune?

2 Sail.

Will you be false-hearted then, Nick? 〈◊〉 will hang herself in her Garters when she hears it.

1 Sail.

Let her, let her, what care I, odsfish! do y•• think I'd leave a first Rate for a Friggate, forsake a 〈◊〉 Lady for Nell? That's quitting a Bowl of Punch 〈…〉 Draught of Sea-water. (Spitting.)

Bos.

I wonder what she saw in that ugly Phiz of thi•… that's always as dirty as the Hammock you swing in; 〈◊〉 as seldom wash'd as your Shirt, which is not on•… Quarter.

2 Sail.

Ha, ha, Oh she fell in Love with his Nos• his Legs.

1 Sail.

Why, what Fault can you find with my No•• Bob. Ha! 'tis sound, and perhaps that's more than your•

Bos.

Nay, nay, don't find Fault with his Nose, 〈◊〉 like the Bowsplit, and his Legs would serve for a Ma•…¦mast; I warrant the Jade understands Sailing, and so w••¦ly provides against Stress of Weather, ha, ha,

1 Sail.

I faith, she's a tite Vessel, and I'll Man he• titely I warrant ye my Lads.

Capt.

Ha, ha; hark ye Sirrah; there's such Conditi•• entail'd upon this Woman, you are fond of, that 〈◊〉 make you as Wife-sick, as the Sea did in your first Voya•…

1 Sail.

Aye, it's no matter for that, Captain; 〈◊〉 must not think to serve me as you do a Whale, fling 〈◊〉 an empty Cask till the Substance gets by. Look ye, Ma••… to fetch up half her Wealth, I'd dive to the Bottom of 〈◊〉 Sea, and venture being swallow'd by a Shark, Nick wo••… I'faith. Master.

2 Sail.

Well said Nick, E'gad, I warrant you think 〈◊〉 be an Ambral now.

1 Sail

Why, why not, if I have Money enough 〈◊〉 buy it? and I will be an Ambral too, for all you, 〈◊〉 my Master here, shall be my Rear-Ambral.

Capt.

Oh your very humble Servant, Mr. Admira•… but suppose your Wife should die, Nick?

2 Sail.

Better and better still; her Gold and preci••• Stones, won't die too; and E'gad, I'll drink to her go••… Voyage in a Bowl of Punch, clap my Riches aboard, and hoist Sail for merry England.

Capt.

Ha, ha, Do you know that the Law of this Island buries the living Husband with the dead Wife.

1 Sail.

Ha! the Devil it does!

Capt.

'Tis even so.

Bos.

Ambral, I wish you much Joy.

1 Sail.

A live!

2 Sail.

What, Is the Wind chop'd full in your Teeth, Nick? Ha, ha, ha!

1 Sail.

Ay Faith, and blows so hard, that it shall blow my Head off e'er I make the Port of Matrimony in this Island. Buried with her? quotha! E'gad, I always thought the Wedding-sheet the Winding-sheet of Pleasure, after a Month; but to have no Hopes beyond her; Zounds! I had rather sit in the Bilboes all Days of my Life. I'll aboard this Minute. Boson, you grumbl'd at my good Fortune just now, take her your self if you will.

Bos.

The Devil take me if I do.

Capt.

I told you I should take off the Edge of your Appetite: Go, go, try and get the Ship off: I▪ll be aboard immediately. Have you got any Provisions?

Bos.

That we have good store.

Capt.

Well, well, be gone then.

1 Sail.

Ay, with all my Heart; if I get once aboard, I'll stick as close to the Ship as Pitch to a Rope; and sink with her rather than come ashoar again. Buried with a Wife! The Devil!

(Exeunt Sailors.

Capt.

Let me consider; what Stratagem shall I use to carry off the Women?

Enter Isabinda.

Isab.

There's a sad House within; but hang me if I don't fancy my Uncle counterfeits; for in my Mind his Pulse beats as regular as mine.

Capt.

Ha! Say you so? Then I have it. Convey me into the House, where I'll tell you the Plot, to free you from these Apprehensions.

Isab.

If you effect it you are a Deity. Come along with me; in this Confusion I can preserve you undiscovered.

Capt.

Along then.

(Exeunt.

SCENE II.

The Emir on a Couch, with his Wife weeping 〈◊〉 him, and Attendants round about. Tab•• Couch, 2 Chairs, Gally-pots, &c.

Lady.

Oh Distraction! Look up my Lord, my Lo•• my Husband! Oh you will break my Heart, and I sh••… go before you! Oh, oh, oh!

Emir.

The Stars forbid! Oh, oh! (Gro••…

Lady.

Ah! Help ye Slaves—Gently bear him up▪ Rub his Temples—Apply the Hartshorn to his Nose▪ Oh speak and tell me how you do, my Dear!—O• oh, oh! (roars 〈◊〉

Emir.

Very bad—Oh, oh!

Lady.

Are you very bad, my Love? What will b•¦come of me? (Asi••

Em.

Very bad indeed, Wife—Oh, I shall not li•• this Day, I doubt.

Lady.

Ah! What do I hear—Oh ye cruel Po••…¦ers—Why was I cast upon this Shoar? Curse on th••… glittering Bawbl•s, whose bewitching Lustre cheats 〈◊〉 of true Happiness. (Tears off her Jewels) A Thirst 〈◊〉 Riches drew me from that Land where Widow-hood 〈◊〉 happy—to die within a loathsome Dungeon, unpiti•• and forlorn.

Em.

What does she say now?—Prithee my Dea• don't afflict yourself so much—You'll be sick, 〈◊〉 Love—

Lady.

But you'll die, my Love—Sick, quoth•… Good Heaven! Can I be well when you are dying?

Em.

Oh you think of the Custom of our Countr• Wife; you fear to be buried with me, that's all—

Lady.

All does he call it—

Em.

Now if it had pleas'd Great Mahomet, that thou shouldst have gone first, I should have accompanied thee with Pleasure—

Lady.

That's more than I shall do you, I'm sure. (Aside) So shall I you, my Dear, as to any Business I have with Life, when thour't gone; but the Pain to see thee die, to part with thee for ever, is the Shock that Nature feels—and 'tis unkindly urg'd to think I fear the Custom of the Island—for what Joy could I have when thou art gone?

Em.

I doubt she lies—But this is the only Way I could ever find to keep her in Subjection, for as soon as I am well, whip! she's scamper'd, and I have no more Comfort of a Wife than I should have in her Grave: If all English Wives are such Gadders, Heaven help their Husbands, I say—

Lady.

How dost thou do, Jewel?

Em.

I think I am a little better; I believe I could eat a Leg of that Chicken within—

Lady.

Fly ye Slaves, and fetch it instantly, Oh, all ye Powers, that protect our Lives, I thank ye; I feel the Springs of Joy recruit; thy Words run thro' my Soul with such exulting Pleasure, that 'tis all one Rapture—Oh let me hold thee ever in my Arms—Oh! that single Word, Better—has more Harmony in it than the Musick of the Spheres—Thus let me kiss it from thy Lips, 'tis the richest Cordial Nature could produce to raise my sinking Hopes. (Embraces and kisses him in an Extasy) Where are you, Slaves, why do you stay so long.

Enter Servants.

Em.

Ah, this Wise of mine does but counterfeit this Love to me, I fear—If our Law did not bury the Living with the Dead, here would be no Joy for my Recovery.

Lady.

Come, my Dear, shall I cut it for thee?

Em.

No, I'll not trouble thee. (He cuts and eats greedily.) 'Tis very good: Won't you eat a Bit of it, Deary?

Lady.

No, thou shalt eat it all—He feeds heartily▪ Ah, if I had him in Old England, I should wish it we•• his last—Oh the vast Difference between a Widow's Weed and a Winding-Sheet, between the civil Ceremonie• of shedding Tears at the Grave, and the barbarous Co¦stom of making one's Bed there.

Em.

How pleas'd she is? Ah, wou'd she be in this good Humour always—

Lady.

Much good may do you, my Dear. (Kisses him.

Em.

I thank you my Love—Ah you little Rogue how warm your Busses are— (Rises from the Table Od, they infuse new Life into me; and methinks I fe•• Health pop into my Heart, like a Pot-gun—Anothe• Kiss, my Dearest— (Kisses her) So, so, thou ha•… done it, thou hast done it, thou dear Rogue—Go what do you stare at? begone and leave your Lady an• I alone— (To the Servan•…

Lady.

Say you so—alone! alas, are you fit to 〈◊〉 left alone—leave a dying Man alone—Let the•… stir if they dare—I shall take better Care of yo• than that comes to, my Dear.

E.

Pish, Pish, I tell thee I am out of Danger.

Lady

I wish thou wert—

Em.

Indeed I am, and thou shalt find it so; therefo•• prithee let them go— (Winking at her

Lady.

Alass, I fear you are light-headed, my Dear. Aye, your Pulse is upon the Gallop; you are in a raging Fever—Oh, woe is me! Oh, oh, oh! Away, some of ye, and fetch a Doctor.

Em.

Sha, sha; I tell thee thou art mistaken; I am in no Fever but what proceeds from thy pretty pouting Lips and thou art the best Physician, let me kiss them again; ye, ye, ye, ye, dear soft Charmer, ye, ye.

Lady.

Are you sure you are well?

Em.

Very sure on't, my Dear—Come, let us take a Nap together.

Lady.

You know I can't sleep in the Day-time: Besides you ought to return your Prophet Thanks for your Recovery—

Em.

Oh, that I'll do to morrow.

Lady.

To morrow! a Man of your Years ought to be asham'd of deferring Things of that Kind till to morrow.

Em.

Why Child, upon Occasion one may—

Lady.

Occasion! What Occasions have People of your Age for Life, but to pray—

Em.

Have Women in your Country no other Business for their Husbands, my Dear?

Lady.

No—

Em.

Humpth! That was the Reason you left it, I doubt—

Lady.

Ah would I had never left it—

Em.

But come, come, you jest but with me. Lucy, fetch your Lady's Night-gown—I love to see her in her Night-gown—Ah those roguish Eyes! Another Kiss and then—

Lady.

You love to see me in my Night-gown, I think I shan't consult your Fancy much—Prithee no more Sloping; your Breath's ready to strike one down, and your Beard's as rough as a Hedge-hog. Lucy, fetch me my Vail, I have a Visit to make.

Lucy.

Yes, Madam. (Exit.

Em.

So, she's no Changeling I find; never Man had such a Wife, certainly—I must always be sick, or she'll always be out of Humour, (aside.) Sure you'll not leave me, Wife.

Lady.

Indeed but I shall, Husband.

(Enter Lucy.

Lucy.

Here's the Vail, Madam. (She puts it on.

Em.

Well, go then, I won't hinder you—Shadock, give me my Cloak; I'll go see the Grand Emir, and pass away the Time a little till your Lady's Return.

Lady.

Well, now I like your Humour. You shou'd always let your Wife go, when and where she pleases.

Em.

That I resolve for the future—Ha! what ails me—Bless me, I'm very sick o'th' Sudden; oh, oh! pray lead me to my Bed, or I shall die this Moment—

Lady.

Ha! what's that, die say you? (throws off her Vail) Oh wretched me! here, here, here, here, take a little of this, my Lord. Judgment is pronounc'd against my Life, and I must die at last, (aside) —Away, and call the Physicians: Haste, fly, Oh, oh, oh!

Em.

No, no, 'twill off again; 'tis only a Fit—thy Kindness is my best Cordial. I'll try to rest a little.

Lady.

Withdraw all of you, and separate into Silence, I'll watch by thee. Heaven send my Love a comfortable Nap—What Distractions tear my Breast—Now Hope, then Despair, with alternate Sway, exercise their Power, and no kind Glimpse of Safety offers me Relief.

Enter Isabinda.

Isab.

Oh Aunt, the Captain is without, and has a Secret to deliver us from this Pla•e if you'll but help the Design.

Lady

Bring him in: If your Uncle wakes I'll tell him it is a Doctor.

Enter Captain and whispers the Lady.

Isab.

Here he is

Capt.

Do you this, and I'll be ready to finish it. (Exit.

Lady.

I'll ven•ure. Oh Fortune, be this once propitious, and I'll submit my future Life, without the least Complaint. Ah! my Head turns round! Oh I faint, I die! (Swoons.

Isab.

Ah Help! Help! Where are you? My Aunt's dead. Help! Help!

(The Emir rises, runs, and catches hold of his Wife.

Em.

I'm thunder-struck—Oh, oh, oh, ho!

Serv.

Ha! Dead! Nay then, where are the Coffins?

(Exeunt Servants

Em.

Oh woe is me! Speak to me, my Dear; speak to me; speak to me.

Isab.

As I suspected: See how nimble he is at the Apprehension of being buried with her. What shall I do? she's breathless quite—

Em.

Oh, oh, oh! (Roars out.) Undone, undone, for ever—

Isab.

Ay, it is you have been the Cause, oh wretched Man! Prophet, thou art just.

Em.

Wretched indeed. I consess I did but counterseit—Oh Alla, (Kneels) pardon my Deceit, and give me back her Life, and let her cuckold me with every thing she meets; let her be the veriest Wife that ever England bred, I never will be jealous more! oh, oh! (Gets up and runs to her, and feels her Pulse, then rubs her Temples, then prays again—) Is there any Hopes, Niece?

Isab.

No, none. Oh distracting Thought! This comes of your frighting her so.

Em.

Oh forgive me, Niece, for I truly repent: Alas! I did it only to keep her in Subjection. Oh fetch the Cordial which I, like a false Wretch, had no Occasion for! Oh! I do believe she lov'd me now! Oh Niece, try, try, to pour some down her Throat; for I tremble so, I cannot guide it to her Lips.

Isab.

Alas! her Teeth are set: She's gone! for ever gone!

Em.

Then I'm gone too! (bursts out again into Tears) Oh, oh, oh!

Enter Servants with two Coffins.

Isab.

Oh killing Sight! (kneels) Thou glorious Sun assist us now and we are happy. (Aside.

Em.

Ay do, do pray for thy Uncle, Child: Oh, oh, oh!

Isab.

I have Occasion for my Prayers my self, at this Time, I thank ye, for I'm afraid we are in the greater Danger at present. (Aside.

Em.

(Turns and sees the Coffins) Oh, oh, oh, that ever I married! Where shall I hide my self? Oh, oh, oh! (Runs off.

Serv.

Stop him, stop him.

(Exeunt Servants.

Isab.

Call the Officers of Justice strait; I must be cruel here. So, he's gone, Captain, come forth.

Enter Captain.

Lady M.

I'm almost choak'd with holding my Breath so long; what's to be done now? Pray Heaven we prosper!

Cap.

I warrant you, Madam, come, come, be quick, you must aboard this Minute. Have you any thing you would take with you?

Isab.

I have pack'd up all your Jewels, and every thing of Value, here, Madam: Mercy on me, how I tremble!

Lady M.

And I'm ready to sink with Fear: If we are taken we are undone, and you lose your Lives.

Capt.

Nothing like a good Courage: Come let's not stand disputing, and lose the lucky Minute.

Lady.

From these curst Laws, oh let me scape with Life.

Isab.

And make me any Creature but a Wife.

Capt.

Your Wealth at any time decides the Strife.

(Exeunt.

SCENE III.

A Cosgarian Lady, dragging in the first Sailor.

Lady.

Nay, don't think to leave me, Sir, did you n•• promise to stay here?

1 Sail.

But will you promise not to die before 〈◊〉 then? Answer me that: Adsbud, who do you think 〈◊〉 chouse? ha!

Lady.

What are you afraid to die with her you love!

1 Sail.

Love! Zounds! does any body love a Woma• well enough to die with her?

Lady.

Yes certainly with their Wives.

1 Sail.

That's a Mistake, d'ye see; for of all the W•¦men in the World we care the least for our Wives, in 〈◊〉 Country.

Lady.

That's strange. Why I should rejoice to 〈◊〉 with you, pretty Englishman.

1 Sail.

Aye, one Way, perhaps, pretty Devil! But 〈◊〉 be plain with you, I desire to die no Way with you all; and so I shear off. (Going

Lady

Stay. Cannot Gold and Jewels tempt you (Shews Gold and Jewe•

1 Sail.

No.

Lady.

What are you Englishmen made on?

1 Sail.

Flesh and Blood, Child; If I can find one 〈◊〉 Iron and Steel, I'll recommend him to you.

Lady.

Iron and Steel! What kind of Men are they?

1 Sail.

Oh Things that are so well acquainted wi•• the Earth, that they'll lie twenty Years in it and take 〈◊〉 Hurt: Now for my Part, I have as much Antipathy 〈◊〉 fresh Mould as fresh Water; and had rather eat Sea-Bisk•… than a green Sod; and the Wind will as soon blow Nort• and by South, as I be prevail'd upon to turn in with yo•

Lady.

Faint-hearted Wretch! Take me with you, then, to your World.

• Sail.

Look ye, I'll have nothing to do with you at all; and there's your Answer; and if you offer to stop me, I shall make use of my Cat of Nine Tails, in troth I shall. Zounds! I never had such an Aversion for a Woman in my Life. (Exit Sailor.

Lady.

Sure this is some Sea-Monster, it cannot be a Man, and Proof against Gold and Jewels.

The European's God is Gold, we Indians say,

Then dare they fly from that to which they pray!

When next—

To th'shining Ore thou dost for Mercy sue,

As you've been deaf to me, may that be deaf to you.

(Exit.

Enter second Sailor.

2 Sail.

Ha! the Woman here that Nick should have had; a faint-hearted Dog! Now have I a Mind to knock her Brains out, and carry off her Jewels.

Lady.

What's here—another of the puny Knaves?

(a Whistle within.)

2 Sail.

Ha! the Boson's Whistle! nay then I must be speedy; and yet I can't find in my Heart to kill her.

(Whistle again.)

Adsheart, I shall be left ashoar; I must away.

Lady.

You look disorder'd, Sir; are you in Love?

2 Sail.

With your rare glist'ning Stones I am; and if your damn'd Fashion did not heave the living Husband 〈◊〉 board with the dead Wife, I did not care if I said I was in love with you.

Lady.

Then take me where we may live for ever; for indeed I don't like this Custom amongst us, but must obey it. Come bear me hence, and I will load thee with wealth enough to buy thy Country.

(Whistle and hollow within.)

2 Sail.

Ha! I have no time to think; come along then; 〈◊〉 venture to swing in a Hammock with you for once.

Blow gently, Boreas, Neptune's Rage confound,

And let us safely upon British Ground,

Where we will drink and sing till the whole World goes round.

(Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

The Emir dragg'd in by Officers, with Servan•• bringing in Loaves of Bread and Bottles Water.

Off.

What, a Native of Cosgar, and tremble at its Laws when even our Kings are subject to 'em. For sham• Emir, bear yourself like a Man—Come, open th• Coffin, and put in the Loaves and Water.

Em.

Ah, I shall have but small Stomach to eat. (Aside Confound our Laws; I'm inform'd that no part of th• World is curst with such, but only us, the rest live 〈◊〉 long as they can: To be buried alive—Oh curs'd Cu¦stom! Oh, oh, oh! In perfect Health too! Oh, oh, oh

Off.

In Health! nay my Lord, that you are not; every body expected your Death this Morning; the Fright 〈◊〉 which, I suppose, has caus'd your Lady's: I'm sure every body thought you very ill.

Em.

Aye, and may be every body thought me will¦ing to die too, but every body was mistaken.

Off.

My Lord, we have no time for Talking; it is no• in our Powers to prevent your Fate. Here lift him in•• the Coffin. Where are your Cords to let the Coffins dow• the Mountain? (They seize him

Em.

I will not go down the Mountain: Unconsciona¦ble Rogues! (Struggles with them) I hope your Wive• will die to morrow—Hold, hold, let me see my Wi•• first; she died suddenly, and may come to Life again.

Off.

Pish! Pish! This is Trifling, in with him, I say

Em.

I tell you my Wife was an English Wife, and troubled with Vapours, as all that Country Wives are she us'd to die and come to Life again ten times in an Hour, therefore I will see her. (Struggling to reach at her Coffin.

2 Off.

Shall he see her, Brother?

1 Off.

No, no.

Em.

Ye Dogs, I will. (Gets hold on't, and pulls off the Lid.) By Alla, Sun, Moon and Stars, here's no body! Hussa, here's no body, she's alive. (Jumps and dances about.

Off.

Alive! bring her out then.

Em.

Nay do you bring her out, if you will, for you shall never bring me in.

Off.

My Lord, I shall make you bring her out; you have buried her in your Garden, I suppose; but that shan't serve: Produce her living, or I'll instantly proceed to the Ceremony of Burial with you: Where is she?

Em.

Sir, I told you before she was an English Wife, and I believe few Husbands know where to find them.

Off.

This shan't serve: Where's Mrs Isabinda, your Niece?

Em.

With her Aunt, for ought I know.

Enter a Servant.

Serv.

Oh my Lord, the Ship that was cast here, yesterday, is gone off, and with it your Lady, Niece and Maid, with all your Jewels.

Emir.

With all my Soul; and there's something for thy News; a boon Voyage, and a merry Gale to them, say 〈◊〉 it is the most comfortable Loss that ever Man had.

Off.

Why what a Misfortune's this! here's our Fees lost. (Aside.

Emir.

And if ever you catch me marrying again, I'll give you leave to use your Cords. Dogs! get out of my House, go; troop, Vermin, no going down the Mountain now—Here kick the Coffins after them, with their Loaves and Water; and there shall never be more occasion for 'em in this House, I promise you—Come, where are my Servants? Here, let me have Musick and Dancing, to cheer my Spirits.

The Laws of Wedlock all Men think severe;

But 'tis Damnation sure to marry here.

POEMS and PLAYS Printed for, and sold by George Risk, Booksell•• at the Corner of Castle-lane in Dames-street.

- ALlan Ramsay's Poems.

- Alexander Pennecuik's Poems.

- Edinburgh's Miscellany Poems.

- Trivia, or the Art of walking the Streets of London, by 〈◊〉

- The first Book of Homer, by Mr. Tickle.

- The Hoop Peticoat, by Mr. Gay.

- The Court Poems, by Mr. Pope.

- The Gamester, by Mrs. Centlivre.

- King Henry V. of England, by Mr. Hill.

- The Captives, by Mr. Gay.

- Lady Jane Gray, by N. Rowe, Esq

- Sophonisha, or Hanibal's Overthrow, by Mr. Lee.

- Sir Walter Raleigh, by Mr. Sewell.

- Spartan Dame, by Mr. Southern.

- King Henry IV. of France, by Mr. Beckingham.

- The Rival Queens, or the Death of Alexander the Gre•• by Mr. Lee.

- Busiris, King of Egypt, by Mr. Young.

- Non-Juror, by Mr. Cibber.

- Chit-Chat, by Mr. Killigrew.

- The Conscious Lovers, by Sir Richard Steel.

- Three Hours after Marriage, by Mr. Gay.

- The Earl of Essex, by Mr. Banks.

- The Fair Penitent, by N. Rowe, Esq

- The Fop's Fortune, or Love makes a Man, by Mr. Cibb••

- The Committee, or the Faithful Irish Man, by Sir Rob••… Howard.

- The Stage-Coach, by Mr. Farquhar.

- Cobler of Preston, by Mr. Johnston.

- The Per-Juror and Juror.

- Hob, or the Country Wake, by Mr. Doget.

- The Contrivances, by Mr. Carey.

- The Country House, by Mr. Vanburgh.

- The Adventures of Half an Hour, by Mr. Bullock.

- The Walking Statue, or the Devil in the Wine Cellar, 〈◊〉 Mr. Hi••…

- The Slip, by Mr. Bullock.

- Hob's Wedding.

- The School-Boy, or the Comical Rival, by Mr. Cibbe•

Information about this book

Title statement

A Bickerstaff's burying: or, work for the upholders. A farce; as it is acted at the theatres, with applause. By His Majesty's servants. Written by Mrs. Susanna Centlivre: ...

Centlivre, Susanna, 1667?-1723.

Publication

Distributor

University of Oxford Text Archive
Oxford University Computing Services
13 Banbury Road
Oxford
OX2 6NN
ota@oucs.ox.ac.uk

ID [ota]

http://ota.ox.ac.uk/id/3865

ID [isbn10]

1106008642

ID [isbn13]

9781106008640

ID [TCP]

K032305.000

ID [BIBNO]

CW3312283493

ID [ECLL]

0399001100

Availability

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Source

— A Bickerstaff's burying: or, work for the upholders. A farce; as it is acted at the theatres, with applause. By His Majesty's servants. Written by Mrs. Susanna Centlivre: ..., Centlivre, Susanna, 1667?-1723.. [4],19,[1]p. ; 12⁰. Dublin :: printed by S. Powell, for George Risk,. 1724.. [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT26855.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

Creation

Created by converting TCP files to TEI P5 using tcp2p5.xsl, TEI @ Oxford.

Editorial practices

This electronic text file was keyed from page images and partially proofread for accuracy. Character capture and encoding have been done following the guidelines of the ECCO Text Creation Partnership, which correspond roughly to the recommendations found in Level 4 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines. Digital page images are linked to the text file.