The relapse, or, Virtue in danger being the sequel of The fool in fashion : a comedy acted at the Theatre-Royal in Drury-Lane.

SCENE I.

Enter Miss Hoyden, and Nurse.

Nurse.

WELL Miss, how do you like your Husband that is to be?

Miss.

O Lord, Nurse, I'm so overjoy'd, I can scarce con∣tain my self.

Nurse.

O but you must have a care of being too fond, for Men now a days, hate a Woman that loves 'em.

Mis.

Love him? why do you think I love him, Nurse?

I Cod I wou'd not care if he were hang'd, so I were but once Married to him—No—that which pleases me, is to think what work I'll make when I get to London; for when I am a Wife and a Lady both Nurse, I Cod I'll flant it with the best of 'em.

Nurse.

Look, look, if his Honour be not coming again to you; now if I were sure you would behave your self hand∣somly, and not disgrace me that have brought you up, I'd leave you alone together.

Miss.

That's my best Nurse, do as you wou'd be done by; trust us together this once, and if I don't shew my Breeding from the head to the foot of me, may I be twice Married, and die a Maid.

Nurse.

Well, this once I'll venture you, but if you dispa∣rage me—

Miss.

Never fear, I'll shew him my parts I'll warrant him.

Exit Nurse.

Sola.

These Old Women are so wise when they get a poor Girl in their Clutches▪ but e'er it be long, I shall know what's what, as well as the best of 'em.

Enter Young Fashion.

Y. Fas.

Your Servant, Madam, I'm glad to find you alone, for I have something of importance to speak to you about.

Miss.

Sir, (my Lord, I meant,) you may speak to me a∣bout what you please, I shall give you a Civil Answer.

Y. Fas.

You give me so obliging a one, it encourages me to tell you in few words, what I think both for your inte∣rest, and mine.

Your Father, I suppose you know, has resolv'd to make me happy in being your Husband, and I hope I may depend upon your Consent, to perform what he desires.

Miss.

Sir, I never disobey my Father in any thing, but eating of green Goosberries.

Y. Fas.

So good a Daughter must needs make an admirable Wife, I am therefore impatient 'till you are mine; and hope you will so far consider the violence of my Love, that you won't have the Cruelty to deferr my Happiness, so long as your Father designs it.

Miss.

Pray, my Lord, how long is that?

Y. Fas.

Madam, a thousand year—a whole week.

Miss.

A week—why I shall be an old Woman by that time.

Y. Fas.

And I an old Man, which you'll find a greater mis∣fortune than t'other.

Mis.

Why I thought 'twas to be to morrow morning, as soon as I was up; I'm sure Nurse told me so.

Y. Fas.

And it shall be to morrow morning still, if you'll consent?

Miss.

If I'll consent? why I thought I was to obey you as my Husband?

Y. Fas.

That's when we are Married, 'till then, I am to obey you.

Miss.

Why then if we are to take it by turns, it's the same thing, I'll obey you now, and when we are Married, you shall obey me.

Y. Fas.

With all my heart, but I doubt we must get Nurse on our side, or we shall hardly prevail with the Chaplain.

Miss.

No more we shan't indeed, for he Loves her better than he loves his Pulpit, and wou'd always be a Preaching to her by his good will.

Y. Fas.

Why then my dear little Bedfellow, if you'll call her hither, we'll try to perswade her presently.

Miss.

O Lord, I can tell you a way how to perswade her to any thing.

Y. Fas.

How's that?

Miss.

Why tell her she's a wholsom Comely Woman— and give her half a Crown.

Y. Fas.

Nay, if that will do, she shall have half a score of 'em.

Miss.

O Gemmini, for half that, she'd Marry you her self; I'll run and call her.

Exit Miss.

Young Fashion Solus.

So, Matters go swimmingly, this is a rare Girl, I faith, I shall have a fine time on't with her at London; I'm much mistaken, if she don't prove a March Hare all the year round; what a scampring Chase will she make on't, when she finds the whole Kennel of Beaux at her tail; hey to the Park, and the Play, and the Church, and the Devil; she'll shew 'em sport I'll warrant 'em. But no matter, she brings an Estate will afford me a separate maintenance.

Enter Miss, and Nurse.

Y. Fas.

How do you do, good Mistress Nurse; I desir'd your young Lady would give me leave to see you, that I might thank you for your extraordinary Care and Conduct in her Education; pray accept of this small Acknowledgment

for it at present, and depend upon my farther kindness, when I shall be that happy thing her Husband.

Nurse aside.

Gold by makings, your Honour's goodness is too great; alas, all I can boast of is, I gave her pure good Milk, and so your Honour wou'd have said, an you had seen how the poor thing suckt it—Eh God's Blessing on the sweet face on't, how it us'd to hang at this poor Tett, and suck and squeeze, and kick and sprawl it wou'd, 'till the Belly on't was so full, it wou'd drop off like a Leech.

Miss to Nurse, taking her angrily aside.

Pray one word with you; prithee Nurse don't stand rip∣ping up Old Stories, to make one asham'd before one's Love; do you think such a fine proper Gentleman as he, cares for a fiddlecome Tale of a draggle-tail'd Girl; if you have a mind to make him have a good Opinion of a Woman; don't tell him what one did then, tell him what one can do now.

To Y. Fas.

I hope your Honour will excuse my misman∣ners to whisper before you, it was only to give some Orders about the Family.

Y. Fas.

O every thing, Madam, is to give way to Busi∣ness; besides, good Housewifry is a very commendable Qua∣lity in a young Lady.

Miss.

Pray Sir, are the young Ladies good House-wives at London Town, do they darn their own Linnen?

Y. Fas.

O no, they study how to spend Money, not to save it.

Miss.

I Cod I don't know but that may be better sport than t'other, ha, Nurse.

Y. Fas.

Well, you shall have your Choice when you come there.

Miss.

Shall I?—then by my troth I'll get there as fast as I can.

To Nurse.

His Honour desires you'll be so kind, as to let us be Married to Morrow.

Nurse.

To Morrow, my dear Madam?

Y. Fas.

Yes, to Morrow sweet Nurse; privately; young Folks you know are impatient, and Sir Tunbelly wou'd make us stay a Week for a Wedding-Dinner. Now all things being

Sign'd, and Seal'd, and Agreed, I fancy there cou'd be no great harm in practising a Scene or two of Matrimony in private, if it were only to give us the better assurance when we come to play it in publick.

Nurse.

Nay, I must confess stoln pleasures are sweet, but if you shou'd be Married now, what will you do when Sir Tunbelly calls for you to be Wedd?

Miss.

Why then we'll be Married again.

Nurse.

What, twice my Child?

Miss.

I Cod I don't care how often I'm Married, not I.

Y. Fas.

Pray Nurse don't you be against your young Lady's good, for by this means she'll have the pleasure of two Wed∣ding-Days.

Miss to Nurse softly.

And of two Wedding-Nights too, Nurse.

Nurse.

Well, I'm such a tender hearted Fool, I find I can refuse nothing; so you shall e'en follow your own In∣ventions.

Miss.

shall I?

Aside.

O Lord, I cou'd leap over the Moon.

Y. Fas.

Dear Nurse, this goodness of yours shan't go unre∣warded; but now you must imploy your power with Mr. Bull the Chaplain, that he may do us his Friendly Office too, and then we shall all be happy; do you think you can prevail with him?

Nurse.

Prevail with him?—or he shall never prevail with me, I can tell him that.

Miss.

My Lord, she has had him upon the hip this seven year.

Y. Fas.

I'm glad to hear it; however, to strengthen your interest with him, you may let him know I have several fat Livings in my Gift, and that the first that falls shall be in your disposal.

Nurse.

Nay, then I'll make him Marry more Folks than one, I'll promise him.

Miss.

Faith do Nurse, make him Marry you too, I'm sure he'll do't for a fat Living, for he loves Eating, more than he

loves his Bible; and I have often heard him say, a fat Living was the best Meat in the World.

Nurse.

Ay, and I'll make him commend the Sauce too, or I'll bring his Gown to a Cassock, I will so.

Y. Fas.

Well Nurse, whilst you go and settle Matters with him, then your Lady and I will go take a walk in the Garden.

Nurse.

I'll do your Honour's business in the catching up of a Garter.

Exit Nurse.

Giving her his hand.

Y. Fas.

Come, Madam, dare you venture your self alone with me?

Miss.

O dear, yes, Sir, I don't think you'll do any thing to me I need be afraid on.

Exeunt.

Enter Amanda, and Berinthia.

A SONG.

I.

I Smile at Love, and all its Arts, The Charming Cynthia cry'd; Take heed, for Love has Piercing Darts, A wounded Swain Reply'd. Once free and blest as you are now, I trifl'd with his Charms, I pointed at his Little Bow, And sported with his Arms: 'Till urg'd too far, Revenge he crys, A Fatal Shaft he drew, It took its passage thro' your Eyes, And to my Heart it flew.

II.

To tear it thence, I try'd in vain, To strive, I quickly found, Was only to encrease the Pain, And to enlarge the Wound. Ah! much too well I fear you know What pain I'm to endure, Since what your Eyes alone could do, Your Heart alone can Cure. And that (grant Heaven I may mistake) I doubt is doom'd to bear A Burthen for another's sake, Who ill Rewards its Care.

Am.

Well, now Berinthia I'm at leisure to hear what 'twas you had to say to me.

Ber.

What I had to say, was only to Eccho the sighs and groans of a dying Lover.

Am.

Phu, will you never learn to talk in earnest of any thing?

Ber.

Why this shall be in earnest, if you please; for my part, I only tell you matter of fact, you may take it which way you like best, but if you'll follow the Women of the Town, you'll take it both ways; for when a Man offers himself to one of them, first she takes him in j••st, and then she takes him in earnest.

Am.

I'm sure there's so much jest and earnest in what you say to me, I scarce know how to take it; but I think you have bewitched me, for I don't find it possible to be angry with you, say what you will.

Ber.

I'm very glad to hear it, for I have no mind to quar∣rel with you, for more Reasons than I'll brag of; but quar∣rel

or not, smile or frown, I must tell you what I have suf∣fer'd upon your account.

Ber.

upon my account?

Ber.

Yes, upon yours; I have been forc'd to sit still and hear you commended for two hours together, without one Compliment to my self; now don't you think a Woman had a blessed time of that?

Am.

Alas! I shou'd have been unconcern'd at it, I never knew where the pleasure lay of being prais'd by the Men; but pray who was this that commended me so?

Ber.

One you have a mortal aversion to, Mr. Worthy, he us'd you like a Text, he took you all to pieces, but spoke so Learnedly upon every Point, one might see the Spirit of the Church was in him; if you are a Woman, you'd have been in an Extasie to have hear'd how feelingly he handled your Hair, your Eyes, your Nose, your Mouth, your Teeth, your Tongue, your Chin, your Neck, and so forth. Thus he Preach'd for an hour, but when he came to use an Applica∣tion, he observ'd that all these without a Gallant were no∣thing—Now consider of what has been said, and Heaven give you grace to put it in practice.

Am.

Alas! Berinthia, did I incline to a Gallant, (which you know I do not) do you think a Man so nice as he, cou'd have the least concern for such a plain unpolisht thing as I am? it is impossible!

Ber.

Now have you a great mind to put me upon commend∣ing you.

Am.

Indeed that was not my design.

Ber.

Nay, if it were, it's all one, for I won't do't, I'll leave that to your Looking-glass. But to shew you I have some good Nature left, I'll commend him, and may be that may do as well.

Am.

You have a great mind to perswade me I am in Love with him.

Ber.

I have a great mind to perswade you, you don't know what you are in love with.

Am.

I am sure I am not in love with him; nor never shall

be, so let that pass; but you were saying something you wou'd commend him for.

Ber.

O you'd be glad to hear a good Character of him however.

Am.

Psha.

Ber.

Psha,—Well 'tis a foolish undertaking for Women in these kind of Matters, to pretend to deceive one another— have not I been bred a Woman as well as you?

Am.

What then?

Ber.

Why then I understand my Trade so well, that when ever I am told of a Man I like, I cry psha; but that I may spare you the pains of putting me a second time in mind to commend him, I'll proceed, and give you this account of him; that though 'tis possible he may have had Women with as good faces as your Ladyship's (no discredit to it nei∣ther) yet you must know your cautious Behaviour, with that reserve in your Humour, has given him his Death's wound; he mortally hates a Coquett, he says 'tis impossible to Love where we cannot esteem; and that no Woman can be esteem'd by a Man who has sense, if she makes her self cheap in the eye of a Fool. That Pride to a Woman, is as necessary as Humility to a Divine; and that far fetch'd, and dear bought, is meat for Gentlemen, as well as for Ladies—in short, that every Woman who has Beauty, may set a price upon her self, and that by under-selling the Market, they ruine the Trade. This is his Doctrine, how do you like it?

Am.

So well, that since I never intend to have a Gallant for my self, if I were to recommend one to a Friend, he shou'd be the Man.

Enter Worthy.

Bless me! he's here, pray Heaven he did not hear me.

Ber.

If he did, it won't hurt your Reputation; your thoughts are as safe in his Heart, as in your own.

Wor.

I venture in at an unseasonable time of Night, Ladys; I hope if I'm troublesom, you'll use the same freedom in turn∣ing me out again.

Am.

I believe it can't be late, for Mr. Lovelace is not come home yet, and he usually keeps good hours.

Wor.

Madam, I'm afraid he'll transgress a little to Night, for he told me about half an hour ago, he was going to Sup with some Company, he doubted would keep him out 'till three or four a Clock in the morning, and desir'd I wou'd let my Servant acquaint you with it, that you might not ex∣pect him; but my Fellow's a Blunder-head, so lest he shou'd make some mistake, I thought it my duty to deliver the message my self.

Am.

I'm very sorry he shou'd give you that trouble, Sir, But—

Ber.

But since he has, will you give me leave, Madam, to keep him to play at Ombre with us?

Am.

Cousin, you know you command my House.

Wor.

to Ber.

And, Madam, you know you command me, tho' I'm a very wretched Gamester.

Ber.

O you play well enough to lose your Money, and that's all the Lady's require, so without any more Ceremony, let us go into the next Room, and call for the Cards.

Am.

With all my heart.

Exit Wor. leading Am.

Ber.

sola.

Well, how this Business will end, Heaven knows; but she seems to me to be in as fair a way—as a Boy is to be a Rogue, when he's put Clerk to an Attorney.

Exit Berinthia.