THE FATHERS

ов

THE GOOD-NATURED MAN

ACT I.

SCENE I.-A Parlour in MR. BONCOUR's House.

Enter MR. BONCOUR and MRS. BONCOUR.

MR. BONCOUR. Pray be pacified

MRS. BONCOUR. It is intolerable, and I will never submit to it.

MR. BONCOUR. But, my dear!

MRS. BONCOUR. Good Mr. Boncour, leave off that odious word; you know I detest it; such fulsome stuff is nauseous to the ears of a woman of strict virtue.

MR. BONCOUR. I don't doubt your virtue.

MRS. BONCOUR. You don't-I am very much obliged to you, indeed; nor any one else, I apprehend: I thank Heaven my carriage is such that I dare confront the world.

MR. BONCOUR. You mistake me, madam.

MRS. BONCOUR. That is as much as to say I have not common understanding; to be sure, I can't comprehend any thing.

MR. BONCOUR. I should be sorry to think I had given you any reason to be out of humour.

MRS. BONCOUR. Then I am in the wrong; a wife is al

ways in the wrong, certainly; it is impossible for a wife to be in the right in any thing.

MR. BONCOUR. My dear, I never said so.

MRS. BONCOUR. That is as much as to say, I don't tell truth: I desire you will treat me with good manners at least; that I think I may expect. A woman of virtue, who brought you a fortune may expect that.

MR. BONCOUR. Madam, I esteem you for your virtue, and am grateful to you for your fortune; I should blush if you could upbraid me with lavishing it on my own pleasures, or ever denying you the enjoyment of it.

MRS. BONCOUR. How! have I a coach at my command? you keep one, indeed, but I am sure I have no command of it. MR. BONCOUR. Indeed you wrong me.

MRS. BONCOUR.

Why, have you not lent it this very morning without my knowledge?

MR. BONCOUR. My dear, I thought the chariot would have served.

MRS. BONCOUR. How can that serve when I am to take three other ladies with me?

MR. BONCOUR. Who's there?

Enter SERVANT.

Bid John take the chariot to my cousin, and let the coach attend my wife-I ask your pardon, child; I own I should have told you of it, but business really put it out of my head. MRS. BONCOUR. Well, and suppose I should find but one of the ladies at home, must I drag about a heavy coach all over the town, like an alderman's or a country justice of peace's lady?

MR. BONCOUR. Nay, since you are so unresolved-the promise was not absolute; you shall not be uneasy on any account- -Tell the fellow he need not go to my cousin at all -[Exit Servant]. Now, my dear, you may have your choice, and I hope you will be easy.

MRS. BONCOUR. Easy! yes; I have a great deal of reason to be easy, truly; now your relations, if they have not the

coach will lay the whole blame upon me; sure, never was so unfortunate a creature as I am!no, let them have both, and then they will be satisfied; I dare say I shall find a coach amongst my acquaintance, though you deny me yours. [Exit.

MR. BONCOUR. So! this comes of meddling with matters out of my sphere; but I deserve it, who know her temper so well.

Enter SIR GEORGE BONCOUR.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. Brother, good-morrow, I hope no accident hath happened, for I met my sister in a violent hurry at the door.

MR. BONCOUR. No, nothing extraordinary: wives will have their humours, you know.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. Ay, wives who have such husbands. MR. BONCOUR. I hope I give her no occasion to be uneasy. SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. Indeed you do-You are a very wicked man, brother.

MR. BONCOUR. How!

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. For you have spoilt a very good sort of a woman; you have many an uneasy hour, many a heart-ache, many a sigh, and many a tear to answer for, which you have been the occasion of to my poor sister.

MR. BONCOUR. I don't remember I ever denied her any thing.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. That is the very reason; for what can a poor woman be obliged to consult so unsteady as her own inclinations? If you would contradict her a little, it would prevent her contradicting herself. A man pretends to be a good husband, and yet imposes continually that hard task upon his wife to know what she has a mind to.

MR. BONCOUR. Brother, I admit raillery, but I should contemn myself, if I refused any thing to a woman who brought me so immense a fortune, to which my circumstances were so very unequal: I do not think with the world, that I make a woman amends for robbing her of her fortune by taking her person into the bargain.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. I would not have you rob her; I would only have you keep her from robbing herself. Ah! I should have made an excellent husband, if I could ever have been persuaded to marry.

MR. BONCOUR. Doubtless your wife would have agreed rarely with this doctrine.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. She must have been a most unreasonable woman else; for I should have desired no more of her than only to do whatever I would have her. I am not that person you would make me appear; for, except a few diversions which I have an antipathy to, such as music, balls, cards, plays, operas, assemblies, visits, and entertainments, I should scarce ever deny her any thing.

MR. BONCOUR. Your exceptions put me in mind of some general pardons, where every thing is forgiven except crimes. SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. I suppose you would have me suffer her to keep an assembly and rendezvous of all such idle people as can't stay at home; that is, have nothing to do any where else.

MR. BONCOUR. Perhaps I love an assembly no more than you.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. Why do you keep one then? MR. BONCOUR. For the same reason that I do many other things not very agreeable to me, to gratify my wife.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. But, brother, pray for what purpose do you think the law gives you a power to restrain her? MR. BONCOUR. Brother, the law gives us many powers which an honest man would scorn to make use of.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. So the advantage you receive from your wife's fortune, is to be her steward, while she lays it out in her own pleasures.

MR. BONCOUR. And that no inconsiderable one.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. No!

MR. BONCOUR. No; for the greatest pleasure I can enjoy is that of contributing to hers.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. You are a good deal too good for this world, indeed you are; and really, considering how good you are, you are tolerably lucky; for were I half so good, I

should expect, whenever I returned home, to catch my wife in an intrigue; my servants robbing my house; my son married to a chambermaid; and my daughter run away with a footman.

MR. BONCOUR. These would be ill returns to your good

ness.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. That's true; but they are very common ones for all that; and I wish somewhat worse does not happen to your son; for I must tell you, and I am sorry to tell it you, the town talk of him.

MR. BONCOUR. I hope they can say nothing ill of him. SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. Nothing ill of him! they say every thing ill of him-O brother, I think myself obliged to discover it to you, this son, this eldest son of yours, the hopes of your family, whom I intended my heir; this profligate rascal, I tell it with tears in my eyes-keeps-keeps—a wench. MR. BONCOUR. I know it

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. [In a passion.] Know it !—wh— at-that he keeps a wench?

MR. BONCOUR. I am sorry for it.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. If he was a son of mine, I'd skin him-I'd flay him-I'd starve him. He shall never have a groat-a farthing of mine: I'll marry to-morrow, and if I haven't an heir, I'll endow an hospital, or give my money to the Sinking Fund.

MR. BONCOUR. Come, brother, I am in hopes to reclaim him yet.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. His vices are all owing to you. MR. BONCOUR. I never gave him instructions in that way.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. You have given him money, that is giving him instructions: whoever gives his son money is answerable for all the ill uses he puts it to.

MR. BONCOUR. Rather, whoever denies his son a reasonable allowance is answerable for all the ill methods he is forced into to get money.

SIR GEORGE BONCOUR. Reasonable! brother: why there is our dispute; I am not so rigid as some fathers; I am not for

PLAYS V-11