Scene XV.

The Way of the World

by William Congreve

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD, PETULANT, WITWOUD, MRS. MARWOOD.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Oons, this fellow knows less than a
starling: I don't think a knows his own name.

MRS. MARWOOD
Mr. Witwoud, your brother is not behindhand in
forgetfulness. I fancy he has forgot you too.

WITWOUD
I hope so. The devil take him that remembers first,
I say.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Save you, gentlemen and lady.

MRS. MARWOOD
For shame, Mr. Witwoud; why won't you speak to
him?--And you, sir.

WITWOUD
Petulant, speak.

PETULANT
And you, sir.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
No offence, I hope? [Salutes
MARWOOD.]

MRS. MARWOOD
No, sure, sir.

WITWOUD
This is a vile dog, I see that already. No offence?
Ha, ha, ha. To him, to him, Petulant, smoke him.

PETULANT
It seems as if you had come a journey, sir; hem,
hem. [Surveying him round.]

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Very likely, sir, that it may seem
so.

PETULANT
No offence, I hope, sir?

WITWOUD
Smoke the boots, the boots, Petulant, the boots; ha,
ha, ha!

SIR WILL
Maybe not, sir; thereafter as 'tis meant, sir.

PETULANT
Sir, I presume upon the information of your
boots.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Why, 'tis like you may, sir: if you are
not satisfied with the information of my boots, sir, if you will step
to the stable, you may enquire further of my horse, sir.

PETULANT
Your horse, sir! Your horse is an ass, sir!

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Do you speak by way of offence, sir?

MRS. MARWOOD
The gentleman's merry, that's all, sir.
'Slife, we shall have a quarrel betwixt an horse and an ass, before
they find one another out.--You must not take anything amiss from
your friends, sir. You are among your friends here, though it--may
be you don't know it. If I am not mistaken, you are Sir Wilfull
Witwoud?

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Right, lady; I am Sir Wilfull Witwoud,
so I write myself; no offence to anybody, I hope? and nephew to the
Lady Wishfort of this mansion.

MRS. MARWOOD
Don't you know this gentleman, sir?

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Hum! What, sure 'tis not--yea by'r lady
but 'tis-- 'sheart, I know not whether 'tis or no. Yea, but 'tis, by
the Wrekin. Brother Antony! What, Tony, i'faith! What, dost thou
not know me? By'r lady, nor I thee, thou art so becravated and so
beperiwigged. 'Sheart, why dost not speak? Art thou o'erjoyed?

WITWOUD
Odso, brother, is it you? Your servant, brother.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Your servant? Why, yours, sir. Your
servant again-- 'sheart, and your friend and servant to that--and
a--[puff] and a flap-dragon for your service, sir, and a hare's foot
and a hare's scut for your service, sir, an you be so cold and so
courtly!

WITWOUD
No offence, I hope, brother?

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
'Sheart, sir, but there is, and much
offence. A pox, is this your inns o' court breeding, not to know
your friends and your relations, your elders, and your betters?

WITWOUD
Why, brother Wilfull of Salop, you may be as short
as a Shrewsbury cake, if you please. But I tell you 'tis not modish
to know relations in town. You think you're in the country, where
great lubberly brothers slabber and kiss one another when they meet,
like a call of sergeants. 'Tis not the fashion here; 'tis not,
indeed, dear brother.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
The fashion's a fool and you're a fop,
dear brother. 'Sheart, I've suspected this--by'r lady I conjectured
you were a fop, since you began to change the style of your letters,
and write in a scrap of paper gilt round the edges, no bigger than a
subpoena. I might expect this when you left off 'Honoured brother,'
and 'Hoping you are in good health,' and so forth, to begin with a
'Rat me, knight, I'm so sick of a last night's debauch.' Ods heart,
and then tell a familiar tale of a cock and a bull, and a whore and a
bottle, and so conclude. You could write news before you were out of
your time, when you lived with honest Pumple-Nose, the attorney of
Furnival's Inn. You could intreat to be remembered then to your
friends round the Wrekin. We could have Gazettes then, and Dawks's
Letter, and the Weekly Bill, till of late days.

PETULANT
'Slife, Witwoud, were you ever an attorney's clerk?
Of the family of the Furnivals? Ha, ha, ha!

WITWOUD
Ay, ay, but that was but for a while. Not long, not
long; pshaw, I was not in my own power then. An orphan, and this
fellow was my guardian; ay, ay, I was glad to consent to that man to
come to London. He had the disposal of me then. If I had not agreed
to that, I might have been bound prentice to a feltmaker in
Shrewsbury: this fellow would have bound me to a maker of felts.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
'Sheart, and better than to be bound to
a maker of fops, where, I suppose, you have served your time, and now
you may set up for yourself.

MRS. MARWOOD
You intend to travel, sir, as I'm informed?

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Belike I may, madam. I may chance to
sail upon the salt seas, if my mind hold.

PETULANT
And the wind serve.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
Serve or not serve, I shan't ask license
of you, sir, nor the weathercock your companion. I direct my
discourse to the lady, sir. 'Tis like my aunt may have told you,
madam? Yes, I have settled my concerns, I may say now, and am minded
to see foreign parts. If an how that the peace holds, whereby, that
is, taxes abate.

MRS. MARWOOD
I thought you had designed for France at all
adventures.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
I can't tell that; 'tis like I may, and
'tis like I may not. I am somewhat dainty in making a resolution,
because when I make it I keep it. I don't stand shill I, shall I,
then; if I say't, I'll do't. But I have thoughts to tarry a small
matter in town, to learn somewhat of your lingo first, before I cross
the seas. I'd gladly have a spice of your French as they say,
whereby to hold discourse in foreign countries.

MRS. MARWOOD
Here's an academy in town for that use.

SIR WILFULL WITWOUD
There is? 'Tis like there may.

MRS. MARWOOD
No doubt you will return very much improved.

WITWOUD
Yes, refined like a Dutch skipper from a
whale-fishing.