Act I
Scene, an inn. Enter BONNIFACE running.
BONNIFACE. Chamberlain, maid, Cherry, daughter Cherry, all asleep, all dead?
Enter CHERRY running.
CHERRY. Here, here, why dāye bawl so, Father? dāye think we have no ears?
BONNIFACE. You deserve to have none, you young minx; ā the company of the Warrington coach has stood in the hall this hour, and no body to show them to their chambers.
CHERRY. And let āem wait farther; thereās neither red coat in the coach, nor footman behind it.
BONNIFACE. But they threaten to go to another inn tonight.
CHERRY. That they dare not, for fear the coachman should overturn them tomorrow. ā Coming, coming: hereās the London coach arrivād.
Enter several people with trunks, band-boxes, and other luggage, and cross the stage.
BONNIFACE. Welcome, ladies.
CHERRY. Very welcome, gentlemen ā chamberlain, show the Lion and the Rose.
Exit with the company.
Enter AIMWELL in riding habit, ARCHER as footman carrying a portmantle.
BONNIFACE. This way, this way, gentlemen.
AIMWELL. Set down the things, go to the stable, and see my horses well rubbād.
ARCHER. I shall, sir.
Exit.
AIMWELL. Youāre my landlord, I suppose?
BONNIFACE. Yes, sir, Iām old Will. Bonniface, pretty well known upon this road, as the saying is.
AIMWELL. O Mr. Bonniface, your servant.
BONNIFACE. O sir ā what will your honour please to drink, as the saying is?
AIMWELL. I have heard your town of Lichfield much famād for ale, I think Iāll taste that.
BONNIFACE. Sir, I have now in my cellar ten tun of the best ale in Staffordshire; ātis smooth as oil, sweet as milk, clear as amber, and strong as brandy; and will be just fourteen year old the fifth day of next March old style.
AIMWELL. Youāre very exact, I find, in the age of your ale.
BONNIFACE. As punctual, sir, as I am in the age of my children: Iāll show you such ale ā here, tapster, broach Number 1706 as the saying is; ā Sir, you shall taste my Anno Domini; ā I have livād in Lichfield man and boy above eight and fifty years, and I believe have not consumād eight and fifty ounces of meat.
AIMWELL. At a meal, you mean, if one may guess your sense by your bulk.
BONNIFACE. Not in my life, sir, I have fed purely upon ale; I have eat my ale, drank my ale, and I always sleep upon ale.
Enter TAPSTER with a bottle and glass.
Now, sir, you shall see. (Filling it out.) Your worshipās health; ha! delicious, delicious, ā fancy it burgundy, only fancy it, and ātis worth ten shilling a quart.
AIMWELL (drinks). āTis confounded strong.
BONNIFACE. Strong! It must be so, or how should we be strong that drink it?
AIMWELL. And have you livād so long upon this ale, landlord?
BONNIFACE. Eight and fifty years upon my credit, sir; but it killād my wife, poor woman, as the saying is.
AIMWELL. How came that to pass?
BONNIFACE. I donāt know how, sir; she would not let the ale take its natural course, sir, she was for qualifying it every now and then with a dram, as the saying is; and an honest gentleman that came this way from Ireland, made her a present of a dozen bottles of usquebaugh ā But the poor woman was never well after: but howeāer, I was obliged to the gentleman, you know.
AIMWELL. Why, was it the usquebaugh that killād her?
BONNIFACE. My Lady Bountiful said so, ā She, good lady, did what could be done, she cured her of three tympanies, but the fourth carried her off; but sheās happy, and Iām contented, as the saying is.
CHERRY. Whoās that Lady Bountiful, you mentionād?
BONNIFACE. Odās my life, sir, weāll drink her health. (Drinks.) My Lady Bountiful is one of the best of women: her last husband Sir Charles Bountiful left her worth a thousand pound a year; and I believe she lays out one half onāt in charitable uses for the good of her neighbours; she cures rheumatisms, ruptures, and broken shins in men, green sickness, obstructions, and fits of the mother in women; ā the kings-evil, chin-cough, and chilblains in children; in short, she has cured more people in and about Lichfield within ten years than the doctors have killād in twenty; and thatās a bold word.
AIMWELL. Has the lady been any other way useful in her generation?
BONNIFACE. Yes, sir, she has a daughter by Sir Charles, the finest woman in all our country, and the greatest fortune. She has a son too by her first husband Squire Sullen, who married a fine lady from London tāother day; if you please, sir, weāll drink his health?
AIMWELL. What sort of a man is he?
BONNIFACE. Why, sir, the manās well enough; says little, thinks less, and does ā nothing at all, faith: But heās a man of a great estate, and values nobody.
AIMWELL. A sportsman, I suppose.
BONNIFACE. Yes, sir, heās a man of pleasure, he plays at whisk, and smokes his pipe eight and forty hours together sometimes.
AIMWELL. And married, you say?
BONNIFACE. Ay, and to a curious woman, sir, ā But heās a ā He wants it, here, sir. (Pointing to his forehead.)
AIMWELL. He has it there, you mean.
BONNIFACE. Thatās none of my business, heās my landlord, and so a man you know, would not, ā But ā Ecod, heās no better than ā Sir, my humble service to you. (Drinks.) Thoā I value not a farthing what he can do to me; I pay him his rent at Quarter Day, I have a good running trade, I have but one daughter, and I can give her ā but no matter for that.
AIMWELL. Youāre very happy, Mr. Bonniface, pray what other company have you in town?
BONNIFACE. A power of fine ladies, and then we have the French officers.
AIMWELL. O thatās right, you have a good many of those gentlemen: Pray how do you like their company?
BONNIFACE. So well, as the saying is, that I could wish we had as many more of āem, theyāre full of money, and pay double for everything they have; they know, sir, that we paid good round taxes for the taking of āem, and so they are willing to reimburse us a little; one of āem lodges in my house.
Enter ARCHER.
ARCHER. Landlord, there are some French gentlemen below that ask for you.
BONNIFACE. Iāll wait on āem; ā Does your master stay long in town, as the saying is? (To ARCHER.)
ARCHER. I canāt tell, as the saying is.
BONNIFACE. Come from London?
ARCHER. No.
BONNIFACE. Going to London, mayhap?
ARCHER. No.
BONNIFACE. An odd fellow this. I beg your worshipās pardon, Iāll wait on you in half a minute.
Exit.
AIMWELL. The coastās clear, I see, ā Now my dear Archer, welcome to Lichfield.
ARCHER. I thank thee, my dear brother in iniquity.
AIMWELL. Iniquity! prithee leave canting, you need not change your style with your dress.
ARCHER. Donāt mistake me, Aimwell, for ātis still my maxim, that there is no scandal like rags, nor any crime so shameful as poverty.
AIMWELL. The world confesses it every day in its practice, thoā men wonāt own it for their opinion: who did that worthy Lord, my brother, single out of the side-box to sup with him tāother night?
ARCHER. Jack Han...