Act 1

Scene 1

Enter Gerontes, Harlequin.

HAR. I formerly thought you a wise man, sir, but indeed, to speak with the respect of a servant you cannot have the best suspicion of -- do you know how old you are? Have you well weighed this bold attempt for a man of sense, turned of sixty, to think of marriage?

GER. Why not? Do you take me for such an old fellow? I am gay, active, have a good stomach, and fire in my eyes yet; I have a house well furnished, am out of debt, and out of law; a widower, and have no children. If Isabella be a woman of sense, and considers withall that my bags are full, she’ll discount twenty years of my age.

HAR. But how will she agree to this discount? There are equipage, clothes, jewels, entertainments, for a young lady of beauty; and when this is all done, the husband will be mistaken if he cannot perform the rest.

GER. By compliments, endearments, particular care and tenderness, I shall make a shift to hide my faults, and cover my infirmities.

HAR. Ah, sir, what can an old man with his dry carcass do to a young heart susceptible of pleasure! This will do nothing at all -- if you will follow the fashion of the good husband’s nowadays, you must, without jealousy, compliment the lady and her gallants, see ‘em, and receive ‘em with open arms, hand ‘em a chair, fill a glass of wine to ‘em, and --

GER. -- Ah, this is too complying -- I take Isabella only for myself, and not for other people; and, to speak my mind, I shall not yield her up to a laced coat and feather, a courtier, or e’er a star and garter in the kingdom.

HAR. Then you will be both jealous and old, sir?

GER. No doubt on’t.

HAR. Jealous and old -- then the consequence is plain, and we’ve a thousand examples in all ages to convince us that a jealous man is at least half a cuckold. You should be more complying -- ‘tis out of fashion to be jealous in Paris, and would you be marked out for a monster of a husband? Yes, you’d be hooted at for a bare resolution of jealousy. Can’t you leave it to Fortune to take care of your forehead? For an impertinent jealousy does nothing but irritate Love, and brings the gallant on full speed to his wishes.

GER. And he that gives him the most liberty, runs the least hazard?

HAR. I find this is a nice point -- but if a man must swallow the bitter pill, betwixt the two extremes, which is best: to be a quiet beast, or a mad bull?

GER. Sirrah, do you make a jest of me? This cane shall correct your insolence.

HAR. Be not angry, I beseech you; if this prediction displeases you, I’ll not speak of your love as you would have me -- you love Isabella, and would marry her.

GER. I think I’m in the right on’t, and am not ashamed of my passion for her.

HAR. Faith, then -- ‘tis like master, like man! You love the mistress, and I love the maid. We must assist one another, and act in concert: that jade, Colombine, if she had been cunning, might have served you better; but you know well enough that all servants, especially on marriage affairs, expect to be paid -- some money, some service. ‘Tis only the golden key that opens the gates of love; give nothing, and the jade turns the deaf ear to you, but a handsome tender removes the deafness.

GER. See, here are any wife’s jewels, which I will bestow as a pledge of my passion; I would have them presented to my mistress. Do you engage Colombine, and tell her I design her ten pieces besides.

HAR. Ten pieces, how! There’s life in the cause. These old lovers always succeed by paying well; leave Colombine to me, and depend on my word, I’ll engage for her.

GER. Be gone, and manage your matters so, that I may not repent it.

SCENE 2.

Harlequin, alone.

When once an old man fancies he has charms enough to engage a woman, he is but one degree better than a fool. If by chance she seems to love him, ‘tis only to lull him asleep with fine words, while she drains his purse to bestow it on another. But in troubling my head with other people's amours, I all this time neglect my own. I love Colombine, and she loves me; or at least, has told me so, so often that I believe it; and a thousand oaths are convincing arguments that her only aim is to be my wife; and after the pleasure of drinking, she is the only object I adore, for Marinetta, Toinon, Margaret and Lisetta -- they may attempt my heart but will find themselves very much mistaken. And Harlequin is nothing without Colombine. Why then hath nature formed me so complete, that I am forced to see a thousand hearts in flames? Heavens! That I should thus purchase by torment the beauty bestowed on me! I can't so much as step abroad without being ogled and caressed: However, I am a rock, and will have no other mistress than her to whom I have given my heart. I hate all side-dishes in love. But I must go and deliver my Master's message -- see, there's somebody.

SCENE 3.

Enter Colombine.

COL. Who’s there?

HAR. I.

COL. What, Harlequin?

HAR. Colombine! My heart! The very little punch that I love; I am overjoyed at my good fortune to meet you; let me hug and kiss you.

COL. What fit’s come on you now? I think your love makes you a fool.

HAR. Not so neither; but see here, I have a present for you; do you see these ten new-coined pieces? Come come, they are not to be despised. Do you like ‘em? I’faith they are yours, if you will deserve them.

COL.Get you gone, you and your present too! Do you think to move my virtues with your money? You know I love you, but tell me, do you think to make Colombine yield at the chinking of your money? He must needs be the greatest of all fools that attempts, after such a manner, one whom he designs to marry.

HAR. You take me wrong, or, at least, I explain myself so -- Can you believe I would seduce Colombine, whom I would honor with any marriage-bed? And could you think me guilty of such an impertinence?

COL. Your compliment is indeed very fine and the flurry pretty enough; but, upon my word, you may try very safely, since you are the last man in the world I should make choice of for a husband.

HAR. Well let this discourse fall; will you do my master's service with your mistress? He has a mind to marry her: I know his age has rendered him impotent, but he is rich and generous and you must second him in his designs. What matters it if her land lies unwilled, so we make but a plentiful harvest. Take these ten pieces from him, and live in expectation of something better. See, here's a present for Isabella, the success of which my master (honest gentleman) leaves to your management. Do all that lies in your power, and use all the art and rhetoric in his favor.

COL. I’ll exceed, you shall see, all your expectation, and for the success trust me. Leave these jewels with me, and retire; but, by the bye, let me tell you, your business is hence for an answer, I shall expect you, fail not.

HAR. You shall see me; but I must sup with you out of these ten pieces, therefore get ready against night a leveret, a fine young turkey, and two bottles of neat wine.

COL. That I will with pleasure.

HAR. Farewell, you luscious jade.

COL. Farewell, thou pink of courtesy.

HAR. Farewell, thou shining pearl of chambermaids.

COL. How tedious are my hours, when you are from me.

HAR. I fly when I come to you, but when I leave you, creep like a snail.

COL. Farewell, Harlequin.

HAR. Farewell, my Colombine.

COL. Think of me.

HAR. Don’t forget supper.

Exit Harlequin.

SCENE 4.

Colombine, alone.

Gerontes loves Isabella; She is young, and he old, which is not, indeed, very agreeable; but as she is poor and wanton, and he rich and liberal, I can't see how she can do better; for of all evils, poverty is the worst. If you have no money, everyone turns his back on you, yet eat you must; and when the belly is empty, adieu to all the pleasures of love. When we are once married, we are settled; Therefore, we should think in time how we may make the pot boil; youth soon fades, a long purse will stick by us: and when age overtakes us, ‘tis then too late to repent of the pleasures we enjoyed by a beggarly marriage. Isabella must not refuse this offer: should she marry a poor young officer, or a lord who is all embroidered with silver and mortgages his land, she must be left exposed to the importunities of that prating, covetous fop, Octavio, that niggard, who would almost hang himself for five pence. No, no, my mistress had better take up with a good, rich, old man. A life far spent, and riches withal, are two powerful arguments -- but here she comes; now for a fine compliment.

SCENE 5.

Isabella and Colombine.

ISA. Colombine.

COL. Madam.

ISA. Is it after this rate you serve your mistress?

COL. Your visitants never come but in the evening.

ISA. I would have you have everything in readiness.

COL. Would you have me employ a whole day to prepare cards? And not have a moment's time to talk to you of business?

ISA. You had better know how to behave as a servant: dress and undress me; I shall be much better pleased than to be gossiped with.

COL. I have something under my thumb, and fancy that I am not mistaken in it. I love you well, madam, and want to talk to you upon it. You are well born, have a great deal of wit and beauty; but more accomplishments of mind. You are without friends, and have very little cash to trust to. Your equipage which is supplied from gaming, is either considerable or indifferent according to the caprice of Fortune which bestows her favors as she pleases.

ISA. We must live by industry, when we cannot support ourselves other ways. I am not the only one in Paris that lives thus. Without this dexterous employ I could not maintain two maidservants, a valet de chambre, two footmen, a handsome table, have always ready money, and yet have neither lands nor tenements.

COL. The fruit of the green table is of excellent nutrition. You are young and handsome, but was play an hundred times more innocent, you would at last find the poison mortal. Leave the deceitful appearance of gain, which is as dangerous as uncertain. Lookout for something more solid, that will last. Make yourself a wife by an advantageous match.’Tis time to fix your mercury.

ISA. I have considered it, but alas, how dangerous it is! Of all the young fools, Lysis appears the greatest, Damon wants an estate, Strephon loves his bottle too well, Timon is a beast, Philander a fop, and the covetous miser is ridiculous, so that none of ‘em please me.

COL. None of these lovers will do your business; besides, I cannot endure your young filly-fop who is as rich as foolish. You must have an husband that has money enough to answer your expenses. Believe me, you'll have enough, if you consent to marry one I know.

ISA. Whom do you mean?

COL. You know Gerontes, our rich neighbor.

ISA. That old dotard!

COL. That old dotard will buy you new clothes, you’ll find your account in it.

ISA. How can you propose such a thing to me?

COL. Poor heart! If it will answer, swallow the affront. Sweet meats must have sour sauce. The rich will do as they please. The poor must do as they can. He is old, but he has three-thousand crowns a year. If you agree, your fortune secured. He is worth an hundred of your young fools.

ISA. Can you imagine that I will marry a man of sixty years of age. That I will give him the beauty of my youth, and enjoy a mere skeleton, a jealous, ill-natured fellow, who, to make up all, is a covetous, wretched old hunx.

COL.  That weakness, madam, which is scandalous and common to old men, Gerontes is free from; who is liberal as your merits may expect, and therefore resolves to make you mistress of his fortune. There are useful sallies which make people hearken to a thousand vain sighs which express a tenderness; but you will acknowledge that no love-letter ever spoke better than these jewels. [Opens the little casket, and shows the jewels.]

ISA. Heavens, what do I see!

COL. I cannot believe this stroke has wounded you. See, examine ‘em madam they are yours -- the first pledge of Gerontes’ love. I have executed my commission with pleasure; and if you are wise, answer my proposition without much trouble.

ISA. Colombine, I cannot condemn your officious zeal in what you have undertaken. I know as well as you the advantage of this match. But upon such a serious matter, we ought to take time to consider before we answer. I'll consult a little longer. Return Gerontes all his jewels; Not that I reject his passion, but for modesty’s sake; for if I was to yield so easily, I should be afterwards ashamed, that without any reserves I had given my heart so readily away.

COL. Oh, how nice you are now? You may be satisfied of his love. This false appearance of virtue flatters your pride. Do you hold out for that, then I wish you may be always a maid. If I was Isabella, I would not run such a risk.

ISA. Nor I refuse if I was Colombine; let 'em be returned, and Gerontes shall have my answer about the marriage today.

COL. I hope then I shall have you say: yes.

ISA. Do you say nothing of what you have offered to me. [Exit.]

SCENE 6.

Colombine, alone.

What a foolish scruple and blindness is this! To what do all these mysteries tend? How our wits fail us when we come to manage our own affairs; but fair and softly, since the business concerns me. If I return the jewels, and the old lover upon the refusal take snuff, farewell profit and intrigue. But I must obey and return them -- I'll consult Harlequin, he’ll advise me best what's to be done.

SCENE 7.

Enter Octavio and Florio his valet.

OCT. Stay awhile Colombine, I only beg two words with you in favor of my queen.

COL. These two words are not worth the trouble of hearing.

OCT. I burn with love for your mistress --  sigh all the night and languish all the day, while the tigress sneers at my passion, and looks upon my tears with dry eyes. The drops of blood run trickling from my heart, and the more I am sensible of her charms, the more I feel her rigor. In the name then of that pure and tender love, I once implore your pity for my sufferings.

COL. Is that all, sir?

OCT. Yes.

COL. If you have nothing else to say, I am your servant. [Exit.]

SCENE 8.

Octavio and Florio.

OCT. Well, Florio, well! Is there any torment equal to mine? How unworthily she returns a flame so pure! Thou art so far from comforting me, that thou sayst nothing.

FLO. What would you have, sir? I pity your adventure; you love Isabella, and so much the better.

OCT. Do you answer me so when I advise with you? Without sharing in my misfortune do you insult me?

FLO. Because when you make love, you do nothing but cry! ‘S death, take another course, open your purse: that’s the key of hearts. -- You sigh, a pleasant remedy! But would you have your wishes answered, you must set up and praise yourself. Would you have the lady swallow the pill, gild it yourself all over, to convey the philter to the heart; that metal is the most powerful vehicle. You are young and rich, and have a good air; but your best talents are sullied by avarice. Before the fair sex there is nothing so obvious as a covetous coxcomb; your air, your mien, your youth, and gold, must go together.

OCT. Very well, what would you do?

FLO. Keep a good house and be merry. Gold is the only sinew of love, to find the ready way to the heart; and thereby I should without doubt secure myself from those repulses you have met with.

OCT. If gold hath so great an influence over hearts, we should husband it, by which means its charms will increase every day.

FLO. Yes indeed, your advice is very good, when the bird is caught; but no bait, no fish; your sighs and fine speeches, without money, avail but little. In love and law, he that gives most is sure to gain his point. Be a good economist after marriage; but to appear so before is only timing things ill.

OCT. My service to your morality; don't think that I shall swallow such dangerous poisons. Remember how poor the rich and prodigal Torincourt became in less than two years by his extravagancy of courtship. Shall I be as mad as he, to enjoy a lady, spend all my substance, and from the fetters of love fall into those of usury?

FLO. Is there no medium? Must a man to avoid covetousness run headlong upon the other vice? Cannot a man, without affecting foppery, dress like a gentleman?

OCT. Sirrah, you are impudent. I shall cane you.

FLO. I know you are no niggard in your blows; but, what would you have me do? Should you meet with a rebuff, you would lay all the blame on me; I only took the liberty to give you my sentiments, which, since they displease you, I shall for the future say no more.

OCT. Find out some way to assist me.

FLO. To be young, covetous, and willing to be beloved, a fine time i’faith!

OCT. Will you hold your tongue? But I think I am to blame to amuse myself thus. I'll go to Isabella, and by my warm sighs endeavor to raise in her some compassion.