MEN.
Lord Foppington
Young Fashion, his Brother
Loveless, Husband to Amanda
Worthy, a Gentleman of the Town,
Sir Tunbelly Clumsey, a Country Gentleman,
Sir John Friendly, his Neighbour,
Coupler, a Matchmaker,
Bull, Chaplain to Sir Tunbelly,
Syringe, a Surgeon,
Lory, Servant to Young Fashion,
Shoemaker, Taylor, Perriwig-maker, &c.
WOMEN.
Amanda, Wife to Loveless,
Berinthia, her Cousin, a young Widow,
Miss Hoyden, a great Fortune, Daughter to Sir Tunbelly,
Nurse, her Governant,
A Room in LOVELESS'S Country House.
Enter LOVELESS reading.
Love. How true is that philosophy, which says
Our heaven is seated in our minds !
Through all the roving pleasures of my youth,
(Where nights and days seem'd all consum'd in joy,
Where the false face of luxury
Display'd such charms,
As might have shaken the most holy hermit,
And made him totter at his altar,)
I never knew one moment's peace like this.
Here, in this little soft retreat, 10
My thoughts unbent from all the cares of life,
Content with fortune,
Eas'd from the grating duties of dependence,
From envy free, ambition under foot,
The raging flame of wild destructive lust
Reduc'd to a warm pleasing fire of lawful love,
1 6 The RELAPSE; [Acn.
My life glides on, and all is well within.
Enter AMANDA.
How does the happy cause of my content,
[Meeting her kindly.
My dear Amanda ?
You find me musing on my happy state, 20
And full of grateful thoughts to Heaven, and you.
Aman. Those grateful offerings Heaven can't receive
With more delight than I do :
Would I could share with it as well
The dispensations of its bliss !
That I might search its choicest favours out,
And shower 'em on your head for ever.
Love. The largest boons that Heaven thinks fit to grant,
To things it has decreed shall crawl on earth,
Are in the gift of women form'd like you. 30
Perhaps, when time shall be no more,
When the aspiring soul shall take its flight,
And drop this pond'rous lump of clay behind it,
It may have appetites we know not of,
And pleasures as refin'd as its desires
But till that day of knowledge shall instruct me,
The utmost blessing that my thought can reach,
{Taking her in his arms.
Is folded in my arms, and rooted in my heart.
Aman. There let it grow for ever !
Love. Well said, Amanda let it be for ever 40
Would Heaven grant that
Aman. 'Twere all the heaven I'd ask.
But we are clad in black mortality,
SCENE I.] QR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. I /
And the dark curtain of eternal night
At last must drop between us.
Love. It must :
That mournful separation we must see.
A bitter pill it is to all ; but doubles its ungrateful taste,
When lovers are to swallow it.
Aman. Perhaps that pain may only be my lot,
You possibly may be exempted from it.
Men find out softer ways to quench their fires. 50
Love. Can you then doubt my constancy, Amanda ?
You'll find 'tis built upon a steady basis
The rock of reason now supports my love,
On which it stands so fix'd,
The rudest hurricane of wild desire
Would, like the breath of a soft slumbering babe,
Pass by, and never shake it
Aman. Yet still 'tis safer to avoid the storm ;
The strongest vessels, if they put to sea,
May possibly be lost. 60
Would I could keep you here, in this calm port, for ever !
Forgive the weakness of a woman,
I am uneasy at your going to stay so long in town ;
I know its false insinuating pleasures ;
I know the force of its delusions ;
I know the strength of its attacks ;
I know the weak defence of nature ;
I know you are a man and I a wife.
Love. You know then all that needs to give you rest,
For wife's the strongest claim that you can urge. 70
When you would plead your title to my heart,
On this you may depend. Therefore be calm,
c
1 8 The RELAPSE ; [ACT i.
Banish your fears, for they
Are traitors to your peace : beware of 'em,
They are insinuating busy things
That gossip to and fro,
And do a world of mischief where they come.
But you shall soon be mistress of 'em all ;
I'll aid you with such arms for their destruction,
They never shall erect their heads again. 80
You know the business is indispensable, that obliges me to
go for London ; and you have no reason, that I know of,
to believe I'm glad of the occasion. For my honest
conscience is my witness,
I have found a due succession of such charms
In my retirement here with you,
I have never thrown one roving thought that way ;
But since, against my will, I'm dragg'd once more
To that uneasy theatre of noise,
I am resolv'd to make such use on't, 90
As shall convince you 'tis an old cast mistress,
Who has been so lavish of her favours,
She's now grown bankrupt of her charms,
And has not one allurement left to move me.
Aman. Her bow, I do believe, is grown so weak,
Her arrows (at this distance) cannot hurt you ;
But in approaching 'em, you give 'em strength.
The dart that has not far to fly, will put
The best of armour to a dangerous trial.
Love. That trial past, and y'are at ease for ever ; 100
When you have seen the helmet prov'd,
You'll apprehend no more for him that wears it.
Therefore to put a lasting period to your fears,
SCENE I.] QR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 1 9
I am resolv'd, this once, to launch into temptation :
I'll give you an essay of all my virtues ;
My former boon companions of the bottle
Shall fairly try what charms are left in wine :
I'll take my place amongst 'em,
They shall hem me in,
Sing praises to their god, and drink his glory : no
Turn wild enthusiasts for his sake,
And beasts to do him honour :
Whilst I, a stubborn atheist,
Sullenly look on,
Without one reverend glass to his divinity.
That for my temperance,
Then for my constancy
Aman. Ay, there take heed.
Love. Indeed the danger's small.
Aman. And yet my fears are great.
Love. Why are you so timorous ?
Aman. Because you are so bold.
Love My courage should disperseyourapprehensions. 120
Aman. My apprehensions should alarm your courage.
Love. Fy, fy, Amanda ! it is not kind thus to distrust me
Aman. And yet my fears are founded on my love.
Love. Your love then is not founded as it ought ;
For if you can believe 'tis possible
I should again relapse to my past follies,
I must appear to you a thing
Of such an undigested composition,
That but to think of me with inclination,
Would be a weakness in your taste, 130
Your virtue scarce could answer.
c 2
2o The RELAPSE; CACTI.
Atnan. 'Twould be a weakness in my tongue,
My prudence could not answer,
If I should press you farther with my fears ;
I'll therefore trouble you no longer with 'em.
Love. Nor shall they trouble you much longer,
A little time shall show you they were groundless :
This winter shall be the fiery trial of my virtue ;
Which, when it once has pass'd,
You'll be convinc'd 'twas of no false allay, 140
There all your cares will end.
Aman. Pray Heaven they may.
[JSxeunt, hand in hand.
Whitehall.
Enter Young FASHION, LORY, and Waterman.
Fash. Come, pay the waterman, and take the portmantle.
Lory. Faith, sir, I think the waterman had as good take
the portmantle, and pay himself.
Fash. Why, sure there's something left in't !
Lorj. But a solitary old waistcoat, upon honour, sir.
Fash. Why, what's become of the blue coat, sirrah ?
Lory. Sir, 'twas eaten at Gravesend ; the reckoning
came to thirty shillings, and your privy purse was worth but
two half-crowns. 10
Fash. 'Tis very well.
Wat. Pray, master, will you please to dispatch me ?
Fash. Ay, here, a canst thou change me a guinea ?
Lory. [Aside.] Good !
SCENE II.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 21
Wat. Change a guinea, master ! Ha ! ha ! your honour's
pleased to compliment.
Fash. Egad, I don't know how I shall pay thee then,
for I have nothing but gold about me.
Lory. \Aside^\ Hum, hum !
Fash. What dost thou expect, friend ? 20
Wat. Why, master, so far against wind and tide is
richly worth half a piece.*
Fash. Why, faith, I think thou art a good conscionable
fellow. Egad, I begin to have so good an opinion of thy
honesty, I care not if I leave my portmantle with thee, till I
send thee thy money.
Wat. Ha! God bless your honour; I should be as
willing to trust you, master, but that you are, as a man may
say, a stranger to me, and these are nimble times ; there are
a great many sharpers stirring. [Taking up the portmantle J
Well, master, when your worship sends the money, your
portmantle shall be forthcoming ; my name's Tug ; my wife
keeps a brandy-shop in Drab-Alley, at Wapping,
Fash. Very well ; I'll send for't to-morrow. 34
[Exit Waterman.
Lory. So. Now, sir, I hope you'll own yourself a
happy man, you have outlived all your cares.
Fash. How so, sir ?
Lory. Why, you have nothing left to take care of.
Fash. Yes, sirrah, I have myself and you to take care of
still.
Lory. Sir, if you could but prevail with somebody else
to do that for you, I fancy we might both fare the better for't.
" Piece. A coin worth twenty-two shillings." Wright.
22 The RELAPSE; CACTI.
Fash. Why, if thou canst tell me where to apply myself,
I have at present so little money and so much humility
about me, I don't know but I may follow a fool's advice.
Lory. Why then, sir, your fool advises you to lay aside
all animosity, and apply to sir Novelty, your elder brother.
Fash. Damn my elder brother !
Lory. With all my heart ; but get him to redeem your
annuity, however. 50
Fash. My annuity ! 'Sdeath, he's such a dog, he would
not give his powder-puff to redeem my soul.
Lory. Look you, sir, you must wheedle him, or you
must starve.
Fash. Look you, sir, I will neither wheedle him, nor
starve.
Lory. Why, what will you do then ?
fash. I'll go into the army.
Lory. You can't take the oaths ; you are a Jacobite.
Fash. Thou may'st as well say I can't take orders
because I'm an atheist. 61
Lory. Sir, I ask your pardon ; I find I did not know the
strength of your conscience so well as I did the weakness of
your purse.
Fash. Methinks, sir, a person of your experience should
have known that the strength of the conscience proceeds
from the weakness of the purse.
Lory. Sir, I am very glad to find you have a conscience
able to take care of us, let it proceed from what it will ; but
I desire you'll please to consider, that the army alone will
be but a scanty maintenance for a person of your generosity
(at least as rents now are paid). I shall see you stand in
damnable need of some auxiliary guineas for your menus
SCENE III.] QR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 2 3
plaisirs ; I will therefore turn fool once more for your
service, and advise you to go directly to your brother. 75
fash. Art thou then so impregnable a blockhead, to
believe he'll help me with a farthing ?
Lory. Not if you treat him de haut en bas, as you use
to do.
Fash. Why, how wouldst have me treat him?
Lory. Like a trout tickle him.
Fash. I can't flatter.
Lory. Can you starve ?
Fash. Yes.
Lory. I can't. Good-by t'ye, sir \Going.
Fash. Stay ; thou wilt distract me ! What wouldst thou
have me say to him ? 87
Lory. Say nothing to him, apply yourself to his favourites, speak to his periwig, his cravat, his feather, his snuffbox, and when you are well with them desire him to
lend you a thousand pounds. I'll engage you prosper.
Fash. 'Sdeath and furies ! why was that coxcomb thrust
into the world before me? O Fortune! Fortune ! thou art
a bitch, by Gad. [Exeunt.
A Dressing-room.
Enter Lord FOPPINGTON in his nightgown.
Lord Fop. Page !
Enter Page.
Page. Sir !
24 The RELAPSE ; [ACT i.
Lord Fop, Sir ! Pray, sir, do me the favour to teach your
tongue the title the king has thought fit to honour me with.
Page. I ask your lordship's pardon, my lord.
Lord Fop. O, you can pronounce the word then? I
thought it would have choked you. D'ye hear ?
Page. My lord ! 8
Lord Fop. Call La Vdrole: I would dress. [Exit
Page.] Well, 'tis an unspeakable pleasure to be a
man of quality, strike me dumb ! My lord. Your lordship !
My lord Foppington ! Ah ! test quelque chose de beau, que
le diable nfemporte ! Why, the ladies were ready to puke at
me whilst I had nothing but sir Navelty to recommend me
to 'em. Sure, whilst I was but a knight, I was a very
nauseous fellow. Well, 'tis ten thousand pawnd well
given, stap my vitals !
Enter LA VROLE.
La Ver. Me Lord, de shoemaker, de tailor, de hosier,
de sempstress, de barber, be all ready, if your lordship please
to be dress. 20
Lord Fop. 'Tis well, admit 'em.
La Ver. Hey, messieurs, entrez.
Enter Tailor, &c.
Lord Fop. So, gentlemen, I hope you have all taken
pains to show yourselves masters in your professions.
Tailor. I think I may presume to say, sir
La Ver. My lord you clawn, you !
Tailor. Why, is he made a lord ? My lord, I ask your
lordship's pardon, my lord ; I hope, my lord, your lordship
will please to own I have brought your lordship as accomplished a suit of clothes as ever peer of England trod the
SCENE III.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 25
stage in, my lord. Will your lordship please to try 'em
now? 32
Lord Fop. Ay ; but let my people dispose the glasses so
that I may see myself before and behind, for I love to see
myself all raund.
Whilst he puts on his clothes, enter Young FASHION
and LORY.
Fash. Heyday, what the devil have we here ? Sure my
gentleman's grown a favourite at court, he has got so many
people at his levee.
Lory. Sir, these people come in order to make him a favourite at court; they are to establish him with the ladies. 40
Fash. Good God ! to what an ebb of taste are women
fallen, that it should be in the power of a laced coat to
recommend a gallant to 'em !
Lory. Sir, tailors and periwig-makers are now become
the bawds of the nation ; 'tis they debauch all the women.
Fash. Thou sayest true ; for there's that fop now has
not by nature wherewithal to move a cook-maid, and by that
time these fellows have done with him, egad he shall melt
down a countess ! But now for my reception ; I'll engage
it shall be as cold a one as a courtier's to his friend, who
comes to put him in mind of his promise. 5 1
Lord Fop. \To his Tailor.] Death and eternal tartures !
Sir, I say the packet's too high by a foot.
Tailor. My lord, if it had been an inch lower, it would
not have held your lordship's pocket-handkerchief.
Lord Fop. Rat my pocket-handkerchief ! have not I a page
to carry it ? You may make him a packet up to his chin a
purpose for it; but I will not have mine come so near my face.
26 The RELAPSE;
Tailor. 'Tis not for me to dispute your lordship's fancy.
Fash. [To LORY.] His lordship ! Lory, did you
observe that? 61
Lory. Yes, sir; I always thought 'twould end there.
Now, I hope, you'll have a little more respect for him.
Fash. Respect ! Damn him for a coxcomb ! now has
he ruined his estate to buy a title, that he may be a fool of
the first rate; but let's accost him. [To Lord FOPPINGTON.] Brother, I'm your humble servant.
Lord Fop. O Lard, Tarn ! I did not expect you in
England. Brother, I am glad to see you. [Turning to his
Tailor.] Look you, sir ; I shall never be reconciled to this
nauseous packet ; therefore pray get me another suit with
all manner of expedition, for this is my eternal aversion.
Mrs. Calico, are not you of my mind? 73
Sempstress. O, directly, my lord ! it can never be too low.
Lord Fop. You are pasitively in the right on't, for the
packet becomes no part of the body but the knee.
[Exit Tailor.
Semps. I hope your lordship is pleased with your
steenkirk.*
Lord Fop. In love with it, stap my vitals ! Bring your
bill, you shall be paid to-marrow. 80
Semps. I humbly thank your honour. [Exit.
Lord Fop. Hark thee, shoemaker ! these shoes an't
ugly, but they don't fit me.
Shoemaker. My lord, my thinks they fit you very well.
had come into fashion as a name for cravats, and other small articles of
apparel, during the excitement which followed the battle of Steenkirk,
where William III. was defeated by the French, July 24, 1692.
SCENE III.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 27
Lord Fop. They hurt me just below the instep.
Shoe. \Feeling hisfootJ] My lord, they don't hurt you
there.*
Lord Fop. I tell thee, they pinch me execrably.
Shoe. My lord, if they pinch you, I'll be bound to be
hanged, that's all. 90
Lord Fop. Why, wilt thou undertake to persuade me I
cannot feel ?
Shoe. Your lordship may please to feel what you think
fit ; but that shoe does not hurt you ; I think I understand
my trade.
Lord Fop. Now by all that's great and powerful, thou
art an incomprehensible coxcomb ! but thou makest good
shoes and so I'll bear with thee.
Shoe. My lord, I have worked for half the people of
quality in town these twenty years ; and 'twere very hard
I should not know when a shoe hurts, and when it don't. 101
Lord Fop. Well, prithee be gone about thy business.
\Exit Shoemaker.
[To the Hosier.] Mr. Mendlegs, a word with you : the
calves of these stockings are thickened a little too much.
They make my legs look like a chairman's.
Mend. My lord, my thinks they look mighty well.
Lord Fop. Ay, but you are not so good a judge of these
things as I am, I have studied 'em all my life ; therefore
pray let the next be the thickness of a crawn-piece less.
[Aside.] If the town takes notice my legs are fallen away,
'twill be attributed to the violence of some new intrigue.
\Exit Mendlegs. [in
28 The RELAPSE ; [ACT i.
[To the Periwig-maker.] Come, Mr. Foretop, let me seewhat
you have done, and then the fatigue of the marning will be over.
Fore. My lord, I have done what I defy any prince in
Europe to outdo ; I have made you a periwig so long, and
so full of hair, it will serve you for hat and cloak in all
weathers.
Lord Fop, Then thou hast made me thy friend to
eternity. Come, comb it out.
Fash. [Aside to LORY.] Well, Lory, what dost think
on't ? A very friendly reception from a brother after three
years' absence ! 122
Lory. Why, sir, it's your own fault ; we seldom care for
those that don't love what we love : if you would creep into
his heart, you must enter into his pleasures. Here have you
stood ever since you came in, and have not commended
any one thing that belongs to him.
Fash. Nor never shall, whilst they belong to a coxcomb.
Lory. Then, sir, you must be content to pick a hungry
bone. 130
Fash. No, sir, I'll crack it, and get to the marrow before
I have done.
Lord Fop. Gad's curse, Mr. Foretop ! you don't intend
to put this upon me for a full periwig ?
Fore. Not a full one, my lord ? I don't know what your
lordship may please to call a full one, but I have crammed
twenty ounces of hair into it.
Lord Fop. What it may be by weight, sir, I shall not
dispute ; but by tale, there are not nine hairs of a side.
Fore. O lord ! O lord ! O lord ! Why, as Gad shall
judge me, your honour's side-face is reduced to the tip of
your nose ! 142
SCENE III.] QR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 2Q
Lord Fop. My side- face may be in eclipse for
aught I know; but I'm sure my full-face is like the fullmoon.
Fore. Heavens bless my eye-sight [ J ff#<W;z < r his eyes.]
Sure I look through the wrong end of the perspective ; for
by my faith, an't please your honour, the broadest place I
see in your face does not seem to me to be two inches
diameter. 150
Lord Fop. If it did, it would be just two inches too
broad ; for a periwig to a man should be like a mask to a
woman, nothing should be seen but his eyes.
Fore. My lord, I have done ; if you please to have more
hair in your wig, I'll put it in.
Lord Fop. Pasitively, yes.
Fore. Shall I take it back now, my lord ?
Lord Fop. No : I'll wear it to-day, though it show such
a manstrous pair of cheeks, stap my vitals, I shall be taken
for a trumpeter. [Exit Foretop. 160
Fash. Now your people of business are gone, brother, I
hope I may obtain a quarter of an hour's audience of you.
Lerd Fop. Faith, Tarn, I must beg you'll excuse me at
this time, for I must away to the House of Lards immediately ; my lady Teaser's case is to come on to-day, and I
would not be absent for the salvation of mankind. Hey,
page!
Enter Page.
Is the coach at the door ?
Page. Yes, my lord.
Lord Fop. You'll excuse me, brother. [Going. 170
Fash. Shall you be back at dinner ?
30 The RELAPSE ; ACTI.
Lord Fop. As Gad shall jidge me, I can't tell; for
'tis passible I may dine with some of aur House at
Lacket's.*
Fash. Shall I meet you there ? For I must needs talk
with you.
Lord Fop. That I'm afraid mayn't be so praper ; far the
lards I commonly eat with, are people of a nice conversation ; and you know, Tarn, your education has been a little
at large : but, if you'll stay here, you'll find a family dinner.
[To Page.] Hey, fellow! What is there for dinner?
There's beef: I suppose my brother will eat beef. Dear
Tarn, I'm glad to see thee in England, stap my vitals ! 183
\Exit with his equipage.
Fash. Hell and furies ! is this to be borne ?
Lory. Faith, sir, I could almost have given him a knock
o' th' pate myself.
Fash. 'Tis enough ; I will now show thee the excess of
my passion by being very calm. Come, Lory, lay your
loggerhead to mine, and in cool blood let us contrive his
destruction. 190
Lory. Here comes a head, sir, would contrive it better
than us both, if he would but join in the confederacy.
Enter COUPLER.
Fash. By this light, old Coupler alive still ! Why, how
now, matchmaker, art thou here still to plague the world
with matrimony ? You old bawd, how have you the
impudence to be hobbling out of your grave twenty years
after you are rotten ?
Coup. When you begin to rot, sirrah, you'll go off like a
pippin; one winter will send you to the devil. What
mischief brings you home again ? Ha ! you young
lascivious rogue you. Let me put my hand in your
bosom, sirrah. 202
Fash. Stand off, old Sodom !
Coup. Nay, prithee now, don't be so coy.
Fash. Keep your hands to yourself, you old dog you,
or I'll wring your nose off.
Coup. Hast thou then been a year in Italy, and brought
home a fool at last ? By my conscience, the young fellows
of this age profit no more by their going abroad than they
do by their going to church. Sirrah, sirrah, if you are not
hanged before you come to my years, you'll know a cock
from a hen. But, come, I'm still a friend to thy person,
though I have a contempt of thy understanding; and
therefore I would willingly know thy condition, that I
may see whether thou stand'st in need of my assistance :
for widows swarm, my boy, the town's infected with
'em. 217
Fash. I stand in need of anybody's assistance, that will
help me to cut my elder brother's throat, without the risk of
being hanged for him.
Coup. Egad, sirrah, I could help thee to do him almost
as good a turn, without the danger of being burned in the
hand for't.
Fash. Sayest thou so, old Satan ? Show me but that,
and my soul is thine.
Coup. Pox o' thy soul ! give me thy warm body, sirrah
I shall have a substantial title to't when I tell thee my
project
32 The RELAPSE; [ACTI.
Fash. Out with it then, dear dad, and take possession
as soon as thou wilt. 230
Coup. Sayest thou so, my Hephestion ? Why, then
thus lies the scene. But hold ; who's that ? if we are
heard we are undone.
Fash. What, have you forgot Lory ?
Coup. Who, trusty Lory, is it thee ?
Lory. At your service, sir.
Coup. Give me thy hand, old boy. Egad, I did not
know thee again ; but I remember thy honesty, though I did
not thy face ; I think thou hadst like to have been
hanged once or twice for thy master. 240
Lory. Sir, I was very near once having that honour.
Coup. Well, live and hope ; don't be discouraged ; eat
with him, and drink with him, and do what he bids thee,
and it may be thy reward at last, as well as another's.
[To Young FASHION.] Well, sir, you must know I have
done you the kindness to make up a match for your brother.
Fash. I am very much beholding to you, truly.
Coup. You may be, sirrah, before the wedding-day yet.
The lady is a great heiress ; fifteen hundred pound a year,
and a great bag of money ; the match is concluded, the
writings are drawn, and the pipkin's to be cracked in a fortnight. Now you must know, stripling (with respect to your
mother), your brother's the son of a whore. 253
Fash. Good !
Coup. He has given me a bond of a thousand pounds
for helping him to this fortune, and has promised me as
much more in ready money upon the day of marriage,
which, I understand by a friend, he ne'er designs to pay me.
If therefore you will be a generous young dog, and secure
SCENE III.] QR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 33
me five thousand pounds, I'll be a covetous old rogue, and
help you to the lady.
Fash. Egad, if thou canst bring this about, I'll have thy
statue cast in brass. But don't you dote, you old pander
you, when you talk at this rate ? 264
Coup. That your youthful parts shall judge of. This
plump partridge, that I tell you of, lives in the country, fifty
miles off, with her honoured parents, in a lonely old house
which nobody comes near ; she never goes abroad, nor
sees company at home. To prevent all misfortunes, she has
her breeding within doors ; the parson of the parish teaches
her to play upon the bass-viol, the clerk to sing, her nurse to
dress, and her father to dance. In short, nobody can give
you admittance there but I ; nor can I do it any other way
than by making you pass for your brother.
Fash. And how the devil wilt thou do that ? 275
Coup. Without the devil's aid, I warrant thee. Thy
brother's face not one of the family ever saw, the whole
business has been managed by me, and all the letters go
through my hands. The last that was writ to sir Tunbelly
Clumsey (for that's the old gentleman's name), was to tell
him, his lordship would be down in a fortnight to consummate. Now, you shall go away immediately, pretend you
writ that letter only to have the romantic pleasure of
surprising your mistress ; fall desperately in love, as soon as
you see her ; make that your plea for marrying her immediately, and, when the fatigue of the wedding-night's over,
you shall send me a swinging purse of gold, you dog
you.
Fash. Egad, old dad, I'll put my hand in thy bosom
now. 290
34 The RELAPSE; CACTI.
Coup. Ah, you young hot lusty thief, let me muzzle you !
[Kissing.} Sirrah, let me muzzle you.
Fash. [Aside.} Psha, the old lecher !
Coup. Well ; I'll warrant thou hast not a farthing of
money in thy pocket now ; no, one may see it in thy face.
fash. Not a souse, by Jupiter !
Coup. Must I advance then? Well, sirrah, be at my
lodgings in half an hour, and I'll see what may be done ;
we'll sign, and seal, and eat a pullet, and when I have
given thee some farther instructions, thou shalt hoist sail
and be gone. [Kissing.] T'other buss, and so adieu.
Fash. Um ! psha! 312
Coup. Ah, you young warm dog you, what a delicious
night will the bride have on't ! [Exit.
Fash. So, Lory ; Providence, thou seest at last, takes
care of men of merit : we are in a fair way to be great
people.
Lory. Ay, sir, if the devil don't step between the cup
and the lip, as he uses to do.
Fash. Why, faith, he has played me many a damned
trick to spoil my fortune, and egad I'm almost afraid he's at
work about it again now ; but if I should tell thee how,
thou'dst wonder at me.
Lory. Indeed, sir, I should not.
Fash. How dost know? 325
Lory. Because, sir, I have wondered at you so often, I
can wonder at you no more.
Fash. No ! what wouldst thou say if a qualm of
conscience should spoil my design ?
Lory. I would eat my words, and wonder more than
ever.
SCENE III.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 35
Fash. Why, faith, Lory, though I am a young rake-hell,
and have played many a roguish trick ; this is so full-grown
a cheat, I find I must take pains to come up to't, I have
scruples
Lory. They are strong symptoms of death ; if you find
they increase, pray, sir, make your will 337
Fash. No, my conscience shan't starve me neither.
But thus far I will hearken to it ; before I execute this project,
I'll try my brother to the bottom, I'll speak to him with the
temper of a philosopher ; my reasons (though they press him
home) shall yet be clothed with so much modesty, not one
of all the truths they urge shall be so naked to offend his
sight. If he has yet so much humanity about him as to
assist me (though with a moderate aid), I'll drop my project
at his feet, and show him I can do for him much more
than what I ask he'd do for me. This one conclusive
trial of him I resolve to make
Succeed or no, still victory's my lot ;
If I subdue his heart, 'tis well ; if not,
I shall subdue my conscience to my plot.
\Exeunt.
London. A Room in LOVELESS'S Lodgings.
Enter LOVELESS and AMANDA.
Love. How do you like these lodgings, my dear ? For my
part, I am so well pleased with 'em, I shall hardly remove
whilst we stay in town, if you are satisfied.
Aman. I am satisfied with everything that pleases you ;
else I had not come to town at all.
Love. Oh ! a little of the noise and bustle of the world
sweetens the pleasures of retreat. We shall find the charms
of our retirement doubled, when we return to it.
Aman. That pleasing prospect will be my chiefest entertainment, whilst (much against my will) I am obliged to
stand surrounded with these empty pleasures, which 'tis so
much the fashion to be fond of. 1 2
Love. I own most of them are indeed but empty ; nay, so
empty, that one would wonder by what magic power they act,
when they induce us to be vicious for their sakes. Yet some
there are we may speak kindlier of. There are delights (of
which a private life is destitute) which may divert an honest
man, and be a harmless entertainment to a virtuous woman.
The conversation of the town is one ; and truly (with some
small allowances), the plays, I think, may be esteemed
another.
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 37
Aman. The plays, I must confess, have some small
charms ; and would have more, would they restrain that
loose obscene encouragement to vice, which shocks, if
not the virtue of some women, at least the modesty of
all.* 26
Love. But till that reformation can be made, I would not
leave the wholesome corn for some intruding tares that grow
amongst it. Doubtless the moral of a well-wrought scene is
of prevailing force. Last night there happened one that
moved me strangely.
Aman. Pray, what was that ?
I&ve. Why 'twas about but 'tis not worth repeating.
Aman. Yes, pray let me know it.
Love. No ; I think 'tis as well let alone. 35
Aman. Nay, now you make me have a mind to know.
Love. 'Twas a foolish thing. You'd perhaps grow
jealous should I tell it you, though without cause, Heaven
knows.
Aman. I shall begin to think I have cause, if you persist
in making it a secret.
Love. I'll then convince you you have none, by making
it no longer so. Know then, I happened in the play to
find my very character, only with the addition of a relapse ;
which struck me so, I put a sudden stop to a most harmless
entertainment, which till then diverted me between the acts.
'Twas to admire the workmanship of nature, in the face of a
home here, but he probably suspected the "scandalous Poet" of
laughing in his sleeve when he wrote this passage. I see no reason
to doubt that Vanbrugh intended it as an expression of his own opinion
on the matter.
38 The RELAPSE;
young lady that sat some distance from me, she was so
exquisitely handsome !
Aman. So exquisitely handsome ! 50
Love. Why do you repeat my words, my dear ?
Aman. Because you seemed to speak 'em with such
pleasure, I thought I might oblige you with their echo.
Love. Then you are alarmed, Amanda ?
Aman. It is my duty to be so, when you are in danger.
Love. You are too quick in apprehending for me ; all
will be well when you have heard me out. I do confess I
gazed upon her ; nay, eagerly I gazed upon her.
Aman. Eagerly ! that's with desire.
Love. No, I desired her not : I viewed her with a world
of admiration, but not one glance of love. 61
Aman. Take heed of trusting to such nice distinctions.
Love. I did take heed ; for observing in the play that
he who seemed to represent me there was, by an accident
like this, unwarily surprised into a net, in which he lay a
poor entangled slave, and brought a train of mischiefs on
his head, I snatched my eyes away ; they pleaded hard for
leave to look again, but I grew absolute, and they obeyed.
Aman. Were they the only things that were inquisitive ?
Had I been in your place, my tongue, I fancy, had been
curious too ; I should have asked her name, and where she
lived (yet still without design). Who was she, pray ?
Love. Indeed I cannot tell.
Aman. You will not tell.
Love. By all that's sacred then, I did not ask. 75
Aman. Nor do you know what company was with her ?
Love. I do not.
Aman. Then I am calm again.
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 39
Love. Why were you disturbed ?
Aman. Had I then no cause ?
Love. None, certainly.
Aman. I thought I had.
Love. But you thought wrong, Amanda : for turn the
case, and let it be your story ; should you come home, and
tell me you had seen a handsome man, should I grow
jealous because you had eyes ? 86
Aman. But should I tell you he were exquisitely so;
that I had gazed on him with admiration ; that I had
looked with eager eyes upon him; should you not think 'twere
possible I might go one step farther, and inquire his
name?
Love. [Aside.] She has reason on her side : I have
talked too much ; but I must turn it off another way.
[Aloud.'] Will you then make no difference, Amanda,
between the language of our sex and yours ? There
is a modesty restrains your tongues, which makes
you speak by halves when you commend ; but roving
flattery gives a loose to ours, which makes us still
speak double what we think. You should not, therefore, in so strict a sense, take what I said to her
advantage. 101
Aman. Those flights of flattery, sir, are to our faces
only : when women once are out of hearing, you are as
modest in your commendations as we are. But I shan't
put you to the trouble of farther excuses, if you please this
business shall rest here. Only give me leave to wish, both
for your peace and mine, that you may never meet this
miracle of beauty more.
Love. I am content.
4O The RELAPSE ; [ACT n.
Enter Servant.
Ser. Madam, there's a young lady at the door in a chair,
desires to know whether your ladyship sees company. I
think her name is Berinthia. 112
Aman. O dear ! 'tis a relation I have not seen these
five years. Pray her to walk in. [Exit Servant.]
Here's another beauty for you. She was young when
I saw her last ; but I hear she's grown extremely handsome.
Love. Don't you be jealous now ; for I shall gaze upon
her too.
Enter BERINTHIA.
[Aside.'} Ha ! by Heavens the very woman ! 120
Ber. [Saluting AMANDA.] Dear Amanda, I did not
expect to meet with you in town.
Aman. Sweet cousin, I'm overjoyed to see you. Mr.
Loveless, here's a relation and a friend of mine, I desire
you'll be better acquainted with.
Love. \Saluting BERINTHIA.] If my wife never desires
a harder thing, madam, her request will be easily
granted.
Ber. I think, madam, I ought to wish you joy.
Aman. Joy! Upon what? 130
Ber. Upon your marriage : you were a widow when I
saw you last.
Love. You ought rather, madam, to wish me joy upon
that, since I am the only gainer.
Ber. If she has got so good a husband as the world
reports., she has gained enough to expect the compliments
of her friends upon it.
SCENE i.] OR, VIRTUE IN DANGER. 41
Love. If the world is so favourable to me, to allow I
deserve that title, I hope 'tis so just to my wife to own I
derive it from her. 140
Ber. Sir, it is so just to you both, to own you are (and
deserve to be) the happiest pair that live in it.
Love. I'm afraid we shall lose that character, madam,
whenever you happen to change your condition.
Re-enter Servant.
Ser. Sir, my lord Foppington presents his humble
service to you, and desires to know how you do. He but
just now heard you were in town. He's at the next door;
and if it be not inconvenient, he'll come and wait upon
you.
Love. Lord Foppington ! I know him not 150
Ber. Not his dignity, perhaps, but you do his person.
'Tis sir Novelty; he has bought a barony, in order to
marry a great fortune. His patent has not been passed
eight-and-forty hours, and he has already sent howdo-ye's to all the town, to make 'em acquainted with his
title.
Love. Give my service to his lordship, and let him know
I am proud of the honour he intends me. [Exit Servant.]
Sure this addition of quality must have so improved his
coxcomb, he can't but be very good company for a quarter
of an hour. 161
Aman. Now it moves my pity more than my mirth, to
see a man whom nature has made no fool, be so very
industrious to pass for an ass.
Love. No, there you are wrong, Amanda ; you should
never bestow your pity upon those who take pains for your
4 2 The RELAPSE ; [ACT n.
contempt. Pity those whom nature abuses, but never those
who abuse nature.
Ber. Besides, the town would be robbed of one of its
chief diversions, if it should become a crime to laugh at
a fool. 171
Aman. I could never yet perceive the town inclined to
part with any of its diversions, for the sake of their being
crimes ; but I have seen it very fond of some I think had
little else to recommend 'em.
Ber. I doubt, Amanda, you are grown its enemy, you
speak with so much warmth against it.
Aman. I must confess I am not much its friend.
Ber. Then give me leave to make you mine, by not
engaging in its quarrel. 180
Aman. You have many stronger claims than that,
Berimhia, whenever you think fit to plead your title.
Love. You have done well to engage a second, my
dear ; for here comes one will be apt to call you to an
account for your country principles.
Enter Lord FOPPINGTON.
Lord Fop. Sir, I am your most humble servant.
Love. I wish you joy, my lord.
Lord Fop. O Lard, sir! Madam, your ladyship's
welcome to tawn.
Aman. I wish your lordship joy. 190
Lord Fop. O Heavens, madam
Love. My lord, this young lady is a relation of my
wife's.
Lord Fop. [Saluting BERINTHIA.] The beautifullest
race of people upon earth, rat me ! Dear Loveless, I'm
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 43
overjoyed to see you have brought your family to tawn
again ; I am, stap my vitals ! [Aside.] Far I design to lie
with your wife. [To AMANDA.] Far Gad's sake, madam,
haw has your ladyship been able to subsist thus long, under
the fatigue of a country life ? 200
Aman. My life has been very far from that, my lord ;
it has been a very quiet one.
Lord Fop. Why, that's the fatigue I speak of, madam.
For 'tis impossible to be quiet, without thinking : now thinking is to me the greatest fatigue in the world.
Aman. Does not your lordship love reading then ?
Lord Fop. Oh, passionately, madam. But I never think
of what I read.
Ber. Why, can your lordship read without thinking ?
Lord Fop. O Lard ! can your ladyship pray without
devotion, madam ? 211
Aman. Well, I must own I think books the best entertainment in the world.
Lord Fop. I am so much of your ladyship's mind,
madam, that I have a private gallery, where I walk sometimes ; it is furnished with nothing but books and lookingglasses. Madam, I have gilded 'em, and ranged 'em so
prettily, before Gad, it is the most entertaining thing in the
world to walk and look upon 'em.
Aman. Nay, I love a neat library too ; but 'tis, I think,
the inside of a book should recommend it most to us. 221
Lord Fop. That, I must confess, I am nat altogether so
fand of. Far to mind the inside of a book, is to entertain one's self with the forced product of another man's
brain. Naw I think a man of quality and breeding may be
much better diverted with the natural sprauts of his own.
44 The RELAPSE ; [ACT n.
But to say the truth, madam, let a man love reading never
so well, when once he comes to know this tawn, he finds so
many better ways of passing the four-and-twenty hours,
that 'twere ten thousand pities he should consume his time
in that. Far example, madam, my life ; my life, madam,
is a perpetual stream of pleasure, that glides through such a
variety of entertainments, I believe the wisest of our
ancestors never had the least conception of any of 'em. I
rise, madam, about ten a-clack. I don't rise sooner, because
'tis the worst thing in the world for the complexion ; nat
that I pretend to be a beau ; but a man must endeavour to
look wholesome, lest he make so nauseous a figure in the
side-bax, the ladies should be compelled to turn their eyes
upon the play. So at ten a-clack, I say, I rise. Naw, if I
find 'tis a good day, I resalve to take a turn in the Park,
and see the fine women ; so huddle on my clothes, and get
dressed by one. If it be nasty weather, I take a turn in the
chocolate-house : where, as you walk, madam, you have the
prettiest prospect in the world : you have looking-glasses all
raund you. But I'm afraid I tire the company.
Ber. Not at all. Pray go on. 247
Lord Fop. Why then, ladies, from thence I go to
dinner at Lacket's, where you are so nicely and delicately
served, that, stap my vitals ! they shall compose you a dish
no bigger than a saucer, shall come to fifty shillings.
Between eating my dinner (and washing my mouth, ladies) I
spend my time, till I go to the play ; * where, till nine
a-clack, I entertain myself with looking upon the company ;
and usually dispose of one hour more in leading 'em aut
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 45
So there's twelve of the four-and-twenty pretty well over.
The other twelve, madam, are disposed of in two articles :
in the first four I toast myself drunk, and in t'other eight I
sleep myself sober again. Thus, ladies, you see my life is
an eternal raund O of delights. 260
Love. 'Tis a heavenly one indeed.
Aman. But I thought, my lord, you beaux spent a
great deal of your time in intrigues : you have given us no
account of them yet.
Lord Fop. [Aside^\ Soh ; she would inquire into my
amours. That's jealousy : she begins to be in love with
me. [To AMANDA.] Why, madam, as to time for my
intrigues, I usually make detachments of it from my other
pleasures, according to the exigency. Far your ladyship
may please to take notice, that those who intrigue with
women of quality, have rarely occasion for above half an
hour at a time : people of that rank being under those
decorums, they can seldom give you a langer view than will
just serve to shoot 'em flying. So that the course of my
other pleasures is not very much interrupted by my
amours.
Love. But your lordship is now become a pillar of the
state; you must attend the weighty affairs of the
nation. 279
Lord Fop. Sir, as to weighty affairs I leave them to
weighty heads. I never intend mine shall be a burden to
my body.
Love. O but you'll find the House will expect your
attendance.
Lord Fop. Sir, you'll find the House will compound for
my appearance.
46 The RELAPSE ;
Love. But your friends will take it ill if you don't attend
their particular causes.
Lord Fop. Not, sir, if I come time enough to give 'em
my particular vote. 290
Ber. But pray, my lord, how do you dispose of yourself on Sundays ? for that, methinks, is a day should hang
wretchedly upon your hands.
Lord Fop. Why, faith, madam Sunday is a vile day, I
must confess. I intend to move for leave to bring in a bill,
that players may work upon it, as well as the hackney
coaches. Though this I must say for the government, it
leaves us the churches to entertain us. But then again,
they begin so abominable early, a man must rise by candlelight to get dressed by the psalm. 300
Ber. Pray which church does your lordship most oblige
with your presence ?
Lord Fop. Oh, St James's, madam : there's much the
best company.
Aman. Is there good preaching too ?
Lord Fop. Why, faith, madam I can't tell. A man
must have very little to do there that can give an account
of the sermon.
Ber. You can give us an account of the ladies at
least ? 310
Lord Fop. Or I deserve to be excommunicated. There
is my lady Tattle, my lady Prate, my lady Titter, my lady
Leer, my lady Giggle, and my lady Grin. These sit in
the front of the boxes, and all church-time are the prettiest
company in the world, stap my vitals ! \To AMANDA.]
Mayn't we hope for the honour to see your ladyship
added to our society, madam ?
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 47
Aman. Alas, my lord ! I am the worst company in the
world at church : I'm apt to mind the prayers, or the
sermon, or 320
Lord Fop, One is indeed strangely apt at church to
mind what one should not do. But I hope, madam, at one
time or other, I shall have the honour to lead your ladyship
to your coach there. [Aside.] Methinks she seems
strangely pleased with everything I say to her. 'Tis a vast
pleasure to receive encouragement from a woman before
her husband's face. I have a good mind to pursue my
conquest, and speak the thing plainly to her at once.
Egad, I'll do't, and that in so cavalier a manner, she shall
be surprised at it. [Aloud.'} Ladies, I'll take my leave ;
I'm afraid I begin to grow troublesome with the length of
my visit
Aman. Your lordship's too entertaining to grow troublesome anywhere. 334
Lord Fop. _Aside.~] That now was as much as if she
had said pray lie with me. I'll let her see I'm quick of
apprehension. [To AMANDA.] O Lard, madam ! I had
like to have forgot a secret, I must needs tell your ladyship. [To LOVELESS.] Ned, you must not be so jealous
now as to listen.
Love. Not I, my lord ; I am too fashionable a husband
to pry into the secrets of my wife.
Lord Fop. [To AMANDA, squeezing her hand.~] I am in
love with you to desperation, strike me speechless !
Aman. \Giving him a box o the ear.~] Then thus I
return your passion. An impudent fool !
Lord Fop. Gad's curse, madam, I'm a peer of the
realm !
48 The RELAPSE ; [ACT n.
Love. Hey ; what the devil do you affront my wife,
sir? Nay then 350
{They draw and fight. The women run shrieking
for help.
Aman. Ah ! What has my folly done ? Help ! murder !
help ! part 'em, for Heaven's sake !
Lord Fop, {Falling back, and leaning upon his sword.]
Ah quite through the body ! stap my vitals !
Enter Servants.
Love. {Running to him.~\ I hope I han't killed the fool
however. Bear him up ! Where's your wound ?
Lord Fop. Just through the guts.
Love. Call a surgeon there. Unbutton him quickly.
Lord Fop. Ay, pray make haste. [Exit Servant.
Love. This mischief you may thank yourself for.
Lord Fop. I may so love's the devil indeed, Ned. 360
Re-enter Servant with SYRINGE.
Ser. Here's Mr. Syringe, sir, was just going by the door.
Lord Fop. He's the welcomest man alive.
Syr. Stand by, stand by, stand by ! Pray, gentlemen,
stand by. Lord have mercy upon us ! did you never see a
man run through the body before ? pray, stand by.
Lord Fop. Ah, Mr. Syringe I'm a dead man !
Syr. A dead man and I by ! I should laugh to see
that, egad !
Love. Prithee don't stand prating, but look upon his
wound. 370
Syr. Why, what if I won't look upon his wound this
hour, sir?
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 49
Love. Why, then he'll bleed to death, sir.
Syr. Why, then I'll fetch him to life again, sir.
Love. 'Slife, he's run through the guts, I tell thee.
Syr. Would he were run through the heart, I should get
the more credit by his cure. Now I hope you're satisfied ?
Come, now let me come at him ; now let me come at him.
[ Viewing his wound.'} Oons, what a gash is here ! Why,
sir, a man may drive a coach and six horses into your body.
Lord Fop. Ho! 381
Syr. Why, what the devil, have you run the gentleman
through with a scythe ? [Aside.] A little prick between the
skin and the ribs, that's all.
Love. Let me see his wound.
Syr. Then you shall dress it, sir ; for if anybody looks
upon it, I won't.
Love. Why, thou art the veriest coxcomb I ever saw.
Syr. Sir, I am not master of my trade for nothing.
Lord Fop. Surgeon ! 390
Syr. Well, sir.
Lord Fop. Is there any hopes ?
Syr. Hopes ? I can't tell. What are you willing to
give for your cure ?
Lord Fop. Five hundred paunds with pleasure.
Syr. Why, then perhaps there may be hopes. But we
must avoid farther delay. Here ; help the gentleman into
a chair, and carry him to my house presently, that's the
properest place [Aside.] to bubble him out of his money.
[Aloud] Come, a chair, a chair quickly there, in with
him. [They put him into a chair. 401
Lord Fop. Dear Loveless adieu! If I die I forgive
thee ; and if I live I hope thou'lt do as much by me. . I'm
E
5O The RELAPSE;
very sorry you and I should quarrel ; but I hope here's
an end on't, for if you are satisfied I am.
Love. I shall hardly think it worth my prosecuting any
farther, so you may be at rest, sir.
Lord Fop. Thou art a generous fellow, strike me dumb !
\Aside^\ But thou hast an impertinent wife, stap my
vitals I 410
Syr. So, carry him off ! carry him off ! we shall have
him prate himself into a fever by and by ; carry him off.
\Exit with Lord FOPPINGTON.
Aman. Now on my knees, my dear, let me ask your
pardon for my indiscretion, my own I never shall obtain.
Love. Oh, there's no harm done : you served him
well.
Aman, He did indeed deserve it. But I tremble to
think how dear my indiscreet resentment might have cost
you.
Love. Oh, no matter, never trouble yourself about that. 420
Ber. For Heaven's sake, what was't he did to you ?
Aman. O nothing ; he only squeezed me kindly by the
hand, and frankly offered me a coxcomb's heart. I know I
was to blame to resent it as I did, since nothing but a
quarrel could ensue. But the fool so surprised me with
his insolence, I was not mistress of my fingers.
Ber. Now, I dare swear, he thinks you had 'em at great
command, they obeyed you so readily.
Enter WORTHY.
War. Save you, save you, good people : I'm glad to find
you all alive ; I met a wounded peer carrying off. For
Heaven's sake, what was the matter? 431
SCENE I.] QR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 5 I
Love. Oh, a trifle ! He would have lain with my wife
before my face, so she obliged him with a box o' th' ear, and
I run him through the body : that was all.
War. Bagatelle on all sides. But, pray madam, how
long has this noble lord been a humble servant of yours ?
Aman. This is the first I have heard on't. So I suppose 'tis his quality more than his love, has brought him
into this adventure. He thinks his title an authentic
passport to every woman's heart below the degree of a peeress.
Wor. He's coxcomb enough to think anything. But I
would not have you brought into trouble for him : I hope
there's no danger of his life ? 443
Love. None at all. He's fallen into the hands of a
roguish surgeon ; I perceive designs to frighten a little
money out of him. But I saw his wound, 'tis nothing ; he
may go to the play to-night, if he pleases.
Wor. I am glad you have corrected him without farther
mischief. And now, sir, if these ladies have no farther
service for you, you'll oblige me if you can go to the place I
spoke to you of t'other day.
Love. With all my heart. [Aside.~\ Though I could
wish, methinks, to stay and gaze a little longer on that
creature. Good gods, how beautiful she is ! But what
have I to do with beauty ? I have already had my portion,
and must not covet more. [Aloud.'] Come, sir, when you
please.
Wor. Ladies, your servant.
Aman. Mr. Loveless, pray one word with you before
you go. 460
Love. [To WORTHY.] I'll overtake you, sir. [Exit
WORTHY.] W hat would my dear ?
2
5 2 The RELAPSE ; [ACT n.
Aman. Only a woman's foolish question, how do you
like my cousin here ?
Love. Jealous already, Amanda?
Aman. Not at all, I ask you for another reason.
Love. [Aside.'} Whate'er her reason be, I must not tell
her true. [To AMANDA.] Why, I confess she's handsome.
But you must not think I slight your kinswoman, if I own
to you, of all the women who may claim that character, she
is the last would triumph in my heart. 471
Aman. I'm satisfied.
Love. Now tell me why you asked ?
Aman. At night I will. Adieu.
Love. I'm yours. [Kisses her and exit.
Aman. {Aside.'} I'm glad to find he does not like her ;
for I have a great mind to persuade her to come and live
with me. [Aloud."} Now, dear Berinthia, let me inquire a
little into your affairs : for I do assure you, I am enough
your friend to interest myself in everything that concerns
you. 481
Ber. You formerly have given me such proofs on't, I
should be very much to blame to doubt it. I am sorry I
have no secrets to trust you with, that I might convince you
how entire a confidence I durst repose in you.
Aman. Why, is it possible that one so young and
beautiful as you should live and have no secrets ?
Ber. What secrets do you mean ?
Aman. Lovers.
Ber. Oh, twenty ! but not one secret one amongst 'em.
Lovers in this age have too much honour to do anything
underhand; they do all above board. 492
Aman. That now, methinks, would make me hate a man.
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 53
Ber. But the women of the town are of another mind :
for by this means a lady may (with the expense of a few
coquette glances) lead twenty fools about in a string for two
or three years together. Whereas, if she should allow J em
greater favours, and oblige 'em to secrecy, she would not
keep one of 'em a fortnight.
Aman. There's something indeed in that to satisfy the
vanity of a woman, but I can't comprehend how the men
find their account in it. 502
Ber. Their entertainment, I must confess, is a riddle to
me. For there's very few of 'em ever get farther than a
bow and an ogle. I have half a score for my share, who
follow me all over the town ; and at the play, the Park, and
the church, do (with their eyes) say the violentest things to
me. But I never hear any more of 'em.
Aman. What can be the reason of that ?
Ber. One reason is, they don't know how to go farther.
They have had so little practice, they don't understand the
trade. But, besides their ignorance, you must know there
is not one of my half score lovers but what follows half a
score mistresses. Now, their affections being divided
amongst so many, are not strong enough for any one to
make 'em pursue her to the purpose. Like a young puppy
in a warren, they have a flirt at all, and catch none.
Aman. Yet they seem to have a torrent of love to
dispose of. 519
Ber. They have so. But 'tis like the river of a modern
philosopher, (whose works, though a woman, I have read,)
it sets out with a violent stream, splits in a thousand branches,
and is all lost in the sands.
Aman. But do you think this river of love runs all its
54 The RELAPSE ;
course without doing any mischief ? Do you think it overflows nothing ?
Ber. O yes ; 'tis true, it never breaks into anybody's
ground that has the least fence about it ; but it overflows all
the commons that lie in its way. And this is the utmost
achievement of those dreadful champions in the field of
love the beaux. 531
Aman. But prithee, Berinthia, instruct me a little farther;
for I'm so great a novice I am almost ashamed on't. My
husband's leaving me whilst I was young and fond threw me
into that depth of discontent, that ever since I have led so
private and recluse a life, my ignorance is scarce conceivable.
I therefore fain would be instructed. Not (Heaven knows)
that what you call intrigues have any charms for me ; my
love and principles are too well fixed. The practic part of
all unlawful love is 540
Ber. Oh, 'tis abominable ! But for the speculative ; that
we must all confess is entertaining. The conversation of all
the virtuous women in the town turns upon that and new
clothes.
Aman. Pray be so just then to me, to believe, 'tis with a
world of innocency I would inquire, whether you think those
women we call women of reputation, do so really 'scape all
other men, as they do those shadows of 'em, the
beaux 549
Ber. O no, Amanda ; there are a sort of men make
dreadful work amongst 'em : men that may be called the
beaux' antipathy ; for they agree in nothing but walking
upon two legs. These have brains : the beau has none.
These are in love with their mistress : the beau with himself.
They take care of her reputation : he's industrious to destroy
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 55
it. They are decent : he's a fop. They are sound : he's
rotten. They are men : he's an ass.
Aman. If this be their character, I fancy we had here e'en
now a pattern of 'em both.
Ber. His lordship and Mr Worthy? 560
Aman. The same.
Ber. As for the lord, he's eminently so ; and for the
other, I can assure you, there's not a man in town who has
a better interest with the women, that are worth having an
interest with. But 'tis all private : he's like a back-stair
minister at court, who, whilst the reputed favourites are
sauntering in the bedchamber, is ruling the roast in the closet.
Aman. He answers then the opinion I had ever of him.
Heavens ! What a difference there is between a man like
him, and that vain nauseous fop, sir Novelty. \Taking her
hand.~\ I must acquaint you with a secret, cousin. 'Tis
not that fool alone has talked to me of love. Worthy has
been tampering too. 'Tis true, he has done't in vain : not
all his charms or art have power to shake me. My love,
my duty, and my virtue, are such faithful guards, I need
not fear my heart should e'er betray me. But what I
wonder at is this : I find I did not start at his proposal, as
when it came from one whom I contemned. I therefore
mention his attempt, that I may learn from you whence it
proceeds ; that vice (which cannot change its nature)
should so far change at least its shape, as that the self-same
crime proposed from one shall seem a monster gaping at
your ruin; when from another it shall look so kind, as
though it were your friend, and never meant to harm you.
Whence, think you, can this difference proceed? For 'tis
not love, Heaven knows. 586
56 The RELAPSE ; EACTII.
Ber. O no ; I would not for the world believe it were.
But possibly, should there a dreadful sentence pass upon
you, to undergo the rage of both their passions ; the pain
you apprehend from one might seem so trivial to the other,
the danger would not quite so much alarm you.
Avian. Fy, fy, Berinthia ! you would indeed alarm me,
could you incline me to a thought, that all the merit of
mankind combined could shake that tender love I bear my
husband. No ! he sits triumphant in my heart, and nothing
can dethrone him.
Ber. But should he abdicate again, do you think you
should preserve the vacant throne ten tedious winters more
in hopes of his return ? 599
Aman. Indeed, I think I should. Though I confess,
after those obligations he has to me, should he abandon me
once more, my heart would grow extremely urgent with me
to root him thence, and cast him out for ever.
Ber. Were I that thing they call a slighted wife, somebody should run the risk of being that thing they call a
husband.
A man. O fy, Berinthia ! no revenge should ever be
taken against a husband. But to wrong his bed is a
vengeance, which of all vengeance 609
Ber. Is the sweetest, ha ! ha ! ha ! Don't I talk madly ?
Aman. Madly, indeed.
Ber. Yet I'm very innocent.
Aman. That I dare swear you are. I know how to
make allowances for your humour : you were always very
entertaining company; but I find since marriage and
widowhood have shown you the world a little, you are very
much improved.
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 57
Ber. [Aside.~\ Alack a-day, there has gone more than
that to improve me, if she knew all ! 619
Aman. For Heaven's sake, Berinthia, tell me what way
I shall take to persuade you to come and live with me ?
Ber. Why, one way in the world there is and but one.
Aman. Pray which is that ?
Ber. It is, to assure me I shall be very welcome.
Aman. If that be all, you shall e'en lie here to-night.
Ber. To-night !
Aman. Yes, to-night.
Ber. Why, the people where I lodge will think me mad.
Aman. Let 'em think what they please. 629
Ber. Say you so, Amanda ? Why, then they shall think
what they please : for I'm a young widow, and I care not
what anybody thinks. Ah, Amanda, it's a delicious thing
to be a young widow !
Aman. You'll hardly make me think so.
Ber. Puh ! because you are in love with your husband :
but that is not every woman's case.
Aman. I hope 'twas yours, at least.
Ber. Mine, say ye ? Now I have a great mind to tell
you a lie, but I should do it so awkwardly you'd find me
out. 640
Aman. Then e'en speak the truth.
Ber. Shall I ? Then after all I did love him, Amanda
as a nun does penance.
Aman. Why did not you refuse to marry him, then ?
Ber. Because my mother would have whipped me.
Aman. How did you live together?
Ber. Like man and wife, asunder. He loved the
country, I the town. He hawks and hounds, I coaches and
58 The RELAPSE ; [ACTII.
equipage. He eating and drinking, I carding and playing.
He the sound of a horn, I the squeak of a fiddle. We
were dull company at table, worse a-bed. Whenever we
met, we gave one another the spleen ; and never agreed but
once, which was about lying alone.
Aman. But tell me one thing, truly and sincerely.
Ber. What's that? 655
Aman. Notwithstanding all these jars, did not his death
at last extremely trouble you ?
Ber. O yes. Not that my present pangs were so very
violent, but the after-pains were intolerable. I was forced
to wear a beastly widow's band a twelvemonth for't.
Aman. Women, I find, have different inclinations.
Ber. Women, I find, keep different company. When
your husband ran away from you, if you had fallen into
some of my acquaintance, 'twould have saved you many
a tear. But you go and live with a grandmother, a bishop,
and an old nurse ; which was enough to make any woman
break her heart for her husband. Pray, Amanda, if ever
you are a widow again, keep yourself so, as I do.
Aman. Why ! do you then resolve you'll never marry ?
Ber. O no; I resolve I will. 670
Aman. How so ?
Ber. That I never may.
Aman. You banter me.
Ber. Indeed I don't. But I consider I'm a woman,
and form my resolutions accordingly.
Aman. Well, my opinion is, form what resolution you
will, matrimony will be the end on't.
Ber. Faith it won't.
Aman. How do you know ?
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 59
Ber. I'm sure on't. 680
A man. Why, do you think 'tis impossible for you to fall
in love ?
Ber. No.
Aman. Nay, but to grow so passionately fond, that
nothing but the man you love can give you rest.
Ber. Well, what then ?
Aman. Why, then you'll marry him.
Ber. How do you know that ?
Aman. Why, what can you do else ?
Ber. Nothing but sit and cry.
Aman. Psha !
Ber. Ah, poor Amanda ! you have led a country life :
but if you'll consult the widows of this town, they'll tell you
you should never take a lease of a house you can hire for a
quarter's warning. [Exeunt.
60 The RELAPSE ; [ACT in.
A Room in Lord FOPPINGTON'S House.
Enter Lord FOPPINGTON and Servant.
Lord Fop. Hey, fellow, let the coach come to the door.
Ser. Will your lordship venture so soon to expose yourself to the weather ?
Lord Fop. Sir, I will venture as soon as I can, to expose
myself to the ladies ; though give me my cloak, however ;
for in that side-box, what between the air that comes in at
the door on one side, and the intolerable warmth of the
masks on t'other,* a man gets so many heats and colds,
'twould destroy the canstitution of a harse.
Ser. {Putting on his cloak.'} I wish your lordship would
please to keep house a little longer; I'm afraid your
honour does not well consider your wound. 12
Lord Fop. My wound ! I would not be in eclipse
another day, though I had as many wounds in my guts as
I have had in my heart. [Exit Servant.
theatre by ladies of reputation (See Pepys, June 12, 1663), but the
custom appears to have been quickly abandoned to women of the town.
In Dryden's prologues and epilogues, for example, the term " vizardmask " is always synonymous with prostitute.
SCENE I.] QR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 6 1
Enter Young FASHION.
Fash. Brother, your servant. How do you find yourself to-day ?
Lord Fop. So well, that I have ardered my coach to
the door : so there's no great danger of death this baut,
Tarn. 20
Fash. I'm very glad of it.
Lord Fop. [Aside.} That I believe's a lie. [Aloud.}
Prithee, Tam, tell me one thing : did nat your heart cut a
caper up to your mauth, when you heard I was run through
the bady ?
Fash. Why do you think it should ?
Lord Fop. Because I remember mine did so, when I
heard my father was shat through the head.
Fash. It then did very ill.
Lord Fop. Prithee, why so ? 30
Fash. Because he used you very well.
Lord Fop. Well ? naw, strike me dumb ! he starved
me. He has let me want a thausand women for want of a
thausand paund.
Fash. Then he hindered you from making a great many
ill bargains, for I think no woman is worth money that will
take money.
Lord Fop. If I were a younger brother, I should think
so too.
Fash. Why, is it possible you can value a woman that's
to be bought ? 41
Lord Fop. Prithee, why not as well as a padnag ?
Fash. Because a woman has a heart to dispose of; a
horse has none.
62 The RELAPSE ; [ACT in.
Lord Fop. Look you, Tarn, of all things that belang to
a woman, I have an aversion to her heart. Far when once
a woman has given you her heart you can never get rid of
the rest of her bady.
Fash. This is strange doctrine. But pray in your
amours how is it with your own heart ? 50
Lord Fop. Why, my heart in my amours is like my
heart aut of my amours ; d la glace. My bady, Tarn, is a
watch ; and my heart is the pendulum to it ; whilst the
finger runs raund to every hour in the circle, that still beats
the same time.
Fash. Then you are seldom much in love ?
Lord Fop. Never, stap my vitals !
Fash. Why then did you make all this bustle about
Amanda ?
Lord Fop. Because she was a woman of an insolent
virtue, and I thought myself piqued in honour to debauch
her. 62
Fash. Very well. [Aside.'] Here's a rare fellow for
you, to have the spending of five thousand pounds a year !
But now for my business with him. [Aloud.'] Brother,
though I know to talk to you of business (especially of
money) is a theme not quite so entertaining to you as that
of the ladies ; my necessities are such, I hope you'll have
patience to hear me.
Lord Fop. The greatness of your necessities, Tarn, is
the worst argument in the world for your being patiently
heard. I do believe you are going to make me a very good
speech, but, strike me dumb ! it has the worst beginning of
any speech I have heard this twelvemonth.
Fash. I'm very sorry you think so. 75
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 63
Lord Fop. I do believe thou art. But come, let's know
thy affair quickly; far 'tis a new play, and I shall be so
rumpled and squeezed with pressing through the crawd,
to get to my servant, the women will think I have lain all
night in my clothes.
Fash. Why then, (that I may not be the author of so
great a misfortune) my case in a word is this. The
necessary expenses of my travels have so much exceeded
the wretched income of my annuity, that I have been
forced to mortgage it for five hundred pounds, which
is spent; so that unless you are so kind to assist me in
redeeming it, I know no remedy but to go take a purse.
Lord Fop. Why, faith, Tarn to give you my sense of
the thing, I do think taking a purse the best remedy in the
the world : for if you succeed, you are relieved that way ; if
you are taken you are relieved t'other.
Fash. I'm glad to see you are in so pleasant a humour,
I hope I shall find the effects on't. 93
Lord Fop. Why, do you then really think it a reasonable
thing I should give you five hundred paunds ?
Fash. I do not ask it as a due, brother, I am willing to
receive it as a favour.
Lord Fop. Thau art willing to receive it any haw, strike
me speechless ! But these are damned times to give money
in, taxes are so great, repairs so exorbitant, tenants such
rogues, and periwigs so dear, that the devil take me,
I am reduced to that extremity in my cash, I have been
forced to retrench in that one article of sweet pawder, till I
have braught it dawn to five guineas a manth. Naw
judge, Tarn, whether I can spare you five hundred
paunds. 106
64 The RELAPSE ; [ACT m.
Fash. If you can't, I must starve, that's all. [Aside, .]
Damn him !
Lord Fop. All I can say is, you should have been a
better husband.
Fash. Oons, if you can't live upon five thousand a
year, how do you think I should do't upon two hundred ?
Lord Fop. Don't be in a passion, Tarn ; far passion is the
most unbecoming thing in the world to the face. Look
you, I don't love to say anything to you to make you
melancholy ; but upon this occasion I must take leave to
put you in mind that a running horse does require more
attendance than a coach-horse. Nature has made some
difference 'twixt you and I. 119
Fash. Yes, she has made you older. \Aside^\ Pox take
her!
Lord Fop. That is nat all, Tarn.
Fash. Why, what is there else ?
Lord Fop. \Looking first upon himself, then upon his
brother I\ Ask the ladies.
Fash. Why, thou essence bottle ! thou musk cat ! dost
thou then think thou hast any advantage over me but what
Fortune has given thee ?
Lord Fop. I do stap my vitals !
Fash. Now, by all that's great and powerful, thou art
the prince of coxcombs ! 130
Lord Fop. Sir I am praud of being at the head of so
prevailing a party.
Fash. Will nothing then provoke thee ? Draw, coward !
Lord Fop. Look you, Tarn, you know I have always
taken you for a mighty dull fellow, and here is one of the
foolishest plats broke out that I have seen a long time.
SCENE II.] QR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 65
Your paverty makes your life so burdensome to you, you
would provoke me to a quarrel, in hopes either to slip
through my lungs into my estate, or to get yourself run
through the guts, to put an end to your pain. But I will
disappoint you in both your designs ; far, with the temper
of a philasapher, and the discretion of a statesman I will
go to the play with my sword in my scabbard. [Exit.
fash. So ! Farewell, snuff-box ! and now, conscience,
I defy thee. Lory ! 145
Enter LORY.
Lory. Sir !
Fash. Here's rare news, Lory; his lordship has given
me a pill has purged off all my scruples.
Lory. Then my heart's at ease again. For I have been
in a lamentable fright, sir, ever since your conscience had
the impudence to intrude into your company.
Fash. Be at peace, it will come there no more : my
brother has given it a wring by the nose, and I have kicked
it down stairs. So run away to the inn ; get the horses
ready quickly, and bring 'em to old Coupler's, without a
moment's delay. 156
Lory. Then, sir, you are going straight about the fortune ?
Fash. I am. Away ! fly, Lory !
Lory. The happiest day I ever saw. I'm upon the wing
already. [Exeunt several ways.
A Garden.
Enter LOVELESS and Servant.
Love. Is my wife within ?
Scr. No, sir, she has been gone out this half hour.
F
66 The RELAPSE ; [ACT in.
Love. 'Tis well, leave me. [Exit Servant.
Sure fate has yet some business to be done,
Before Amanda's heart and mine must rest ;
Else, why amongst those legions of her sex,
Which throng the world,
Should she pick out for her companion
The only one on earth
Whom nature has endow'd for her undoing ? 10
Undoing, was't, I said ! who shall undo her?
Is not her empire fix'd ? am I not hers ?
Did she not rescue me, a grovelling slave,
When chain'd and bound by that black tyrant vice,
I labour'd in his vilest drudgery ?
Did she not ransom me, and set me free ?
Nay more : when by my follies sunk
To a poor tatter'd despicable beggar,
Did she not lift me up to envied fortune ?
Give me herself, and all that she possess'd, 20
Without a thought of more return,
Than what a poor repenting heart might make her ?
Han't she done this ? And if she has,
Am I not strongly bound to love her for it ?
To love her ! why, do I not love her then ?
By earth and heaven I do !
Nay, I have demonstration that I do :
For I would sacrifice my life to serve her.
Yet hold if laying down my life
Be demonstration of my love, 30
What is't I feel in favour of Berinthia ?
For should she be in danger, methinks I could incline to
risk it for her service too ; and yet I do not love her. How
SCENE II.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 67
then subsists my proof? Oh, I have found it out ! What
I would do for one, is demonstration of my love ; and if
I'd do as much for t'other : it there is demonstration of my
friendship. Ay it must be so. I find I'm very much her
friend. Yet let me ask myself one puzzling question more :
Whence springs this mighty friendship all at once ? For our
acquaintance is of later date. Now friendship's said to be a
plant of tedious growth ; its root composed of tender fibres,
nice in their taste, cautious in spreading, check'd with the
least corruption in the soil ; long ere it take, and longer
still ere it appear to do so : whilst mine is in a moment shot
so high, and fix'd so fast, it seems beyond the power of
storms to shake it. I doubt it thrives too fast. [Musing.
/
Enter BERINTHIA.
Ha, she here ! Nay, then take heed, my heart, for there are
dangers towards. 48
Ber. What makes you look so thoughtful, sir ? I hope
you are not ill.
Love. I was debating, madam, whether I was so or not ;
and that was it which made me look so thoughtful.
Ber. Is it then so hard a matter to decide ? I thought
all people had been acquainted with their own bodies,
though few people know their own minds.
Love. What if the distemper, I suspect, be in the
mind?
Ber. Why then I'll undertake to prescribe you a cure.
Love. Alas ! you undertake you know not what. 59
Ber. So far at least then allow me to be a physician.
Love. Nay, I'll allow you so yet farther: for I have
F 2
68 The RELAPSE ; [ACT m.
reason to believe, should I put myself into your hands, you
would increase my distemper.
Ber. Perhaps I might have reasons from the college not
to be too quick in your cure ; but 'tis possible I might find
ways to give you often ease, sir.
Love. Were I but sure of that, I'd quickly lay my case
before you.
Ber. Whether you are sure of it or no, what risk do you
run in trying ? 70
Love. Oh ! a very great one.
Ber. How ?
Love. You might betray my distemper to my wife.
Ber. And so lose all my practice.
Love. Will you then keep my secret ?
Ber. I will, if it don't burst me.
Love. Swear.
Ber. I do.
Love. By what ?
Ber. By woman. 80
Love. That's swearing by my deity. Do it by your
own, or I shan't believe you.
Ber. By man then.
Love. I'm satisfied. Now hear my symptoms, and give
me your advice. The first were these :
When 'twas my chance to see you at the play,
A random glance you threw at first alann'd me,
I could not turn my eyes from whence the danger came :
I gaz'd upon you till you shot again,
And then my fears came on me. 90
My heart began to pant, my limbs to tremble,
My blood grew thin, my pulse beat quick, my eyes
SCENE II.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 69
Grew hot and dim, and all the frame of nature
Shook with apprehension.
'Tis true, some small recruits of resolution
My manhood brought to my assistance ;
And by their help I made a stand a while,
But found at last your arrows flew so thick,
They could not fail to pierce me ; so left the field,
And fled for shelter to Amanda's arms. 100
What think you of these symptoms, pray ?
Ber. Feverish every one of 'em.
But what relief pray did your wife afford you ?
Love. Why, instantly she let me blood ;
Which for the present much assuag'd my flame.
But when I saw you, out it burst again,
And rag'd with greater fury than before.
Nay, since you now appear, 'tis so increas'd,
That in a moment, if you do not help me,
I shall, whilst you look on, consume to ashes. no
[Taking hold of her hand.
Ber. \Breakingfrom himl\ O Lard, let me go ! 'Tis the
plague, and we shall all be infected.
Love. [Catching her in his arms, and kissing her.~
Then we'll die together, my charming angel !
Ber. O Ged the devil's in you ! Lord, let me go,
here's somebody coming.
Enter Servant.
Ser. Sir, my lady's come home, and desires to speak
with you : she's in her chamber.
Love. Tell her I'm coming. [Exit Servant.] But
before I go, one glass of nectar more to drink her health.
70 The RELAPSE ; [ACT m.
Ber. Stand off, or I shall hate you, by Heavens ! 120
Love. [Kissing her.'} In matters of love, a woman's oath
is no more to be minded than a man's.
Ber. Urn
Enter WORTHY.
Wor. [Aside.'] Ha ! what's here ? my old mistress, and
so close, i' faith ! I would not spoil her sport for the
universe. [Exit.
Ber. O Ged ! Now do I pray to Heaven, [Exit
LOVELESS running] with all my heart and soul, that the
devil in hell may take me, if ever I was better pleased in
my life ! This man has bewitched me, that's certain.
[Sighing.'] Well, I am condemned ; but, thanks to Heaven,
I feel myself each moment more and more prepared for my
execution. Nay, to that degree, I don't perceive I have
the least fear of dying. No, I find, let the executioner be
but a man, and there's nothing will suffer with more resolution than a woman. Well, I never had but one intrigue
yet but I confess I long to have another. Pray Heaven
it end as the first did though, that we may both grow weary
at a time ; for 'tis a melancholy thing for lovers to outlive
one another. 140
Re-enter WORTHY.
Wor. [Aside.~] This discovery's a lucky one, I hope to
make a happy use on't. That gentlewoman there is no
fool ; so I shall be able to make her understand her
interest. [Aloud.] Your servant, madam ; I need not ask
you how you do, you have got so good a colour.
SCENE II.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. J I
Ber. No better than I used to have, I suppose.
Wor. A little more blood in your cheeks.
Ber. The weather's hot.
Wor. If it were not, a woman may have a colour.
Ber. What do you mean by that ? 150
Wor. Nothing.
Ber. Why do you smile then ?
Wor. Because the weather's hot.
Ber. You'll never leave roguing, I see that.
Wor. [Putting his finger to his noseJ\ You'll never leave
I see that.
Ber. Well, I can't imagine what you drive at. Pray tell
me what you mean ?
Wor. Do you tell me ; it's the same thing.
Ber. I can't. 160
Wor. Guess !
Ber. I shall guess wrong.
Wor. Indeed you won't.
Ber. Psha ! either tell, or let it alone.
Wor. Nay, rather than let it alone, I will tell. But
first I must put you in mind, that after what has passed
'twixt you and I, very few things ought to be secrets
between us.
Ber. Why, what secrets do we hide ? I know of none.
Wor. Yes, there are two ; one I have hid from you,
and t'other you would hide from me. You are fond of
Loveless, which I have discovered ; and I am fond of his
wife
Ber. Which I have discovered. 174
Wor. Very well, now I confess your discovery to be
true : what do you say to mine ?
72 The RELAPSE; [ACT in.
Ber. Why, I confess I would swear 'twere false, if I
thought you were fool enough to believe me.
Wor. Now I am almost in love with you again. Nay, I
don't know but I might be quite so, had I made one short
campaign with Amanda. Therefore, if you find 'twould
tickle your vanity to bring me down once more to your
lure, e'en help me quickly to dispatch her business, that
I may have nothing else to do, but to apply myself to
yours. 185
Ber. Do you then think, sir, I am old enough to be a
bawd ?
Wor. No, but I think you are wise enough to
Ber. To do what ?
Wor. To hoodwink Amanda with a gallant, that she
mayn't see who is her husband's mistress.
Ber. \Aside, .] He has reason : the hint's a good one.
Wor. Well, madam, what think you on't.
Ber. I think you are so much a deeper politician in
these affairs than I am, that I ought to have a very great
regard to your advice. 196
Wor. Then give me leave to put you in mind, that the
most easy, safe, and pleasant situation for your own amour,
is the house in which you now are; provided you keep
Amanda from any sort of suspicion. That the way to do
that, is to engage her in an intrigue of her own, making
yourself her confidant. And the way to bring her to
intrigue, is to make her jealous of her husband in a wrong
place ; which the more you foment, the less you'll be
suspected. This is my scheme, in short ; which if you
follow as you should do, my dear Berinthia, we may all
four pass the winter very pleasantly. 207
SCENE II.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 73
Ber. Well, I could be glad to have nobody's sins to
answer for but my own. But where there is a necessity
Wor. Right : as you say, where there is a necessity, a Christian is bound to help his neighbour. So, good Berinthia,
lose no time, but let us begin the dance as fast as we can.
Ber. Not till the fiddles are in tune, pray sir. Your
lady's strings will be very apt to fly, I can tell you that, if
they are wound up too hastily. But if you'll have patience
to screw 'em to their pitch by degrees, I don't doubt but
she may endure to be played upon.
Wor. Ay, and will make admirable music too, or I'm
mistaken. But have you had no private closet discourse
with her yet about males and females, and so forth, which
may give you hopes in her constitution ? for I know her
morals are the devil against us. 222
Ber. I have had so much discourse with her, that I
believe, were she once cured of her fondness to her
husband, the fortress of her virtue would not be so impregnable as she fancies.
Wor. What ! she runs, I'll warrant you, into that
common mistake of fond wives, who conclude themselves
virtuous, because they can refuse a man they don't like,
when they have got one they do.
Ber. True ; and therefore I think 'tis a presumptuous
thing in a woman to assume the name of virtuous, till she
has heartily hated her husband, and been soundly in love
with somebody else. Whom, if she has withstood, then
much good may it do her. 235
Wor. Well, so much for her virtue. Now, one word
of her inclinations, and every one to their post. What
opinion do you find she has of me ?
74 The RELAPSE ; [ACT m.
Ber. What you could wish ; she thinks you handsome
and discreet.
Wor. Good ; that's thinking half-seas over. One tide
more brings us into port.
Ber. Perhaps it may, though still remember, there's a
difficult bar to pass.
Wor, I know there is, but I don't question I shall get
well over it, by the help of such a pilot.
Ber. You may depend upon your pilot, she'll do the
best she can ; so weigh anchor and begone as soon as you
please.
Wor. I'm under sail already. Adieu ! 250
Ber. Bon voyage! [Exit WORTHY.] So, here's fine
work ! What a business have I undertaken ! I'm a very
pretty gentlewoman truly ! But there was no avoiding it :
he'd have ruined me, if I had refused him. Besides, faith,
I begin to fancy there may be as much pleasure in carrying
on another body's intrigue as one's own. This at least is
certain, it exercises almost all the entertaining faculties of a
woman : for there's employment for hypocrisy, invention,
deceit, flattery, mischief, and lying.
Enter AMANDA, her Woman following her.
Worn. If you please, madam, only to say, whether you'll
have me buy 'em or not. 261
Aman. Yes, no, go fiddle ! I care not what you do.
Prithee leave me.
Worn. I have done. [Exit.
Ber. What in the name of Jove's the matter with you ?
Aman. The matter, Berinthia ! I'm almost mad, I'm
plagued to death.
SCENE II.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 75
Ber. Who is it that plagues you ?
Aman. Who do you think should plague a wife, but her
husband ? 270
Ber. O ho, is it come to that ? We shall have you wish
yourself a widow by and by.
Aman. Would I were anything but what I am ! A base
ungrateful man, after what I have done for him, to use me
thus !
Ber. What, he has been ogling now, 111 warrant you ?
Aman. . Yes, he has been ogling.
Ber. And so you are jealous ? is that all ?
Aman. That all ! is jealousy then nothing ?
Ber. It should be nothing, if I were in your case. 280
Aman. Why, what would you do ?
Ber. I'd cure myself.
Aman. How ?
Ber. Let blood in the fond vein : care as little for my
husband as he did for me.
Aman. That would not stop his course.
Ber. Nor nothing else, when the wind's in the warm
corner. Look you, Amanda, you may build castles in the
air, and fume, and fret, and grow thin and lean, and pale
and ugly, if you please. But I tell you, no man worth
having is true to his wife, or can be true to his wife, or ever
was, or ever will be so. 292
Aman. Do you then really think he's false to me ? for I
did but suspect him.
Ber. Think so ! I know he's so.
Aman. Is it possible ? Pray tell me what you know.
Ber. Don't press me then to name names, for that I
have sworn I won't do.
76 The RELAPSE; [ACT-HI.
Aman. Well, I won't ; but let me know all you can
without perjury. 300
Ber. I'll let you know enough to prevent any wise
woman's dying of the pip ; and I hope you'll pluck up
your spirits, and show upon occasion you can be as good a
wife as the best of 'em.
Aman. Well, what a woman can do I'll endeavour. .
Ber, Oh, a woman can do a great deal, if once she sets
her mind to it. Therefore pray don't stand trifling any
longer, and teasing yourself with this and that, and your
love and your virtue, and I know not what : but resolve to
hold up your head, get a-tiptoe, and look over 'em all ; for
to my certain knowledge your husband is a pickeering* elsewhere. 312
Aman, You are sure on't ?
Ber. Positively ; he fell in love at the play.
Aman. Right, the very same. Do you know the ugly
thing ?
Ber, Yes, I know her well enough ; but she's not such
an ugly thing neither.
Aman. Is she very handsome ?
Ber, Truly I think so.
Aman, Hey ho !
Ber. What do you sigh for now ?
Aman. Oh, my heart ! 323
Ber. \Aside^\ Only the pangs of nature ; she's in labour
of her love ; Heaven send her a quick delivery, I'm sure
she has a good midwife.
use. " Nares.
SCENE III.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 77
Aman, I'm very ill, I must go to my chamber. Dear
Berinthia, don't leave me a moment.
Ber. No, don't fear. _Aside] I'll see you safe brought
to bed, I'll warrant you.
[Exeunt, AMANDA leaning upon BERINTHIA.
Sir TUNBELLY CLUMSEY'S Country-House.
Enter Young FASHION and LORY.
Fash. So, here's our inheritance, Lory, if we can but get
into possession. But methinks the seat of our family looks
like Noah's ark, as if the chief part on't were designed for
the fowls of the air, and the beasts of the field.
Lory. Pray, sir, don't let your head run upon the orders
of building here ; get but the heiress, let the devil take the
house.
Fash. Get but the house, let the devil take the heiress,
I say ; at least if she be as old Coupler describes her. But
come, we have no time to squander. Knock at the door.
[LORY knocks two or three times.] What the devil, have they
got no ears in this house ? Knock harder. T 2
Lory. Egad, sir, this will prove some enchanted castle ;
we shall have the giant come out by and by with his club,
and beat our brains out. [Knocks again.
Fash. Hush ! they come.
Servant. [ Within.] Who is there ?
Lory. Open the door and see. Is that your country
breeding ?
Str. Ay, but two words to a bargain. Tummas, is the
blunderbuss primed ?
78 The RELAPSE ; [ACT in.
Fash. Oons, give 'em good words, Lory ; we shall be
shot here a fortune-catching.
Lory. Egad, sir, I think y'are in the right on't. Ho !
Mr. What-d'ye-call-um. 25
[Servant appears at the window with a blunderbuss.
Ser. Weall, naw what's yare business ?
Fash. Nothing, sir, but to wait upon sir Tunbelly, with
your leave.
Ser. To weat upon sir Tunbelly ! Why, you'll find that's
just as sir Tunbelly pleases.
Fash. But will you do me the favour, sir, to know
whether sir Tunbelly pleases or not ?
Ser. Why, look you, do you see, with good words much
may be done. Ralph, go thy weas, and ask sir Tunbelly
if he pleases to be waited upon. And dost hear ? call to
nurse that she may lock up Miss Hoyden before the geat's
open. 37
Fash. D'ye hear that, Lory ?
Lory. Ay, sir, I'm afraid we shall find a difficult job on't.
Pray Heaven that old rogue Coupler han't sent us to fetch
milk out of the gunroom.
Fash. I'll warrant thee all will go well. See, the door
opens.
Enter Sir TUNBELLY, with his Servants armed with guns,
clubs, pitchforks, scythes, drc.
Lory. [Running behind his master :] O Lord ! O Lord !
O Lord ! we are both dead men !
Fash. Take heed, fool ! thy fear will ruin us.
Lory. My fear, sir ! 'sdeath, sir, I fear nothing. [Aside.]
Would I were well up to the chin in a horsepond !
SCENE III.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 79
Sir Tun. Who is it here has any business with me ? 49
Fash. Sir, 'tis I, if your name be sir Tunbelly
Clumsey.
Sir Tun. Sir, my name is sir Tunbelly Clumsey,
whether you have any business with me or not So
you see I am not ashamed of my name nor my face
neither.
Fash. Sir, you have no cause, that I know of.
Sir Tun. Sir, if you have no cause neither, I desire to
know who you are ; for till I know your name, I shall
not ask you to come into my house ; and when I
know your name 'tis six to four I don't ask you
neither. 6 1
Fash. [Giving him a letter.'} Sir, I hope you'll find this
letter an authentic passport.
Sir Tun. Cod's my life ! I ask your lordship's pardon
ten thousand times. [To a Servant.] Here, run in a-doors
quickly. Get a Scotch-coal fire in the great parlour ; set all
the Turkey-work chairs in their places ; get the great brass
candlesticks out, and be sure stick the sockets full of laurel,
run ! [Exit Servant.] My lord, I ask your lordship's
pardon. [71? other Servants.] And do you hear, run away
to nurse, bid her let Miss Hoyden loose again, and if it was
not shifting day, let her put on a clean tucker, quick!
[Exeunt Servants confusedly.] I hope your honour will
excuse the disorder of my family ; we are not used
to receive men of your lordship's great quality every
day. Pray where are your coaches and servants, my
lord? 77
Fash. Sir, that I might give you and your fair daughter
a proof how impatient I am to be nearer akin to you, I left
8o The RELAPSE; [ACTIII.
my equipage to follow me, and came away post with only one
servant.
Sir Tun. Your lordship does me too much honour. It
was exposing your person to too much fatigue and danger, I
protest it was. But my daughter shall endeavour to make
you what amends she can ; and though I say it that should
not say it Hoyden has charms.
Fash. Sir, I am not a stranger to them, though I am to
her. Common fame has done her justice. 88
Sir Tun. My lord, I am common fame's very grateful
humble servant. My lord my girl's young, Hoyden is
young, my lord ; but this I must say for her, what she wants
in art, she has by nature ; what she wants in experience, she
has in breeding ; and what's wanting in her age, is made
good in her constitution. So pray, my lord, walk in : pray,
my lord, walk in.
Fash. Sir, I wait upon you. {Exeunt.
A Room in the same.
Miss HOYDEN discovered alone.
Hoyd. Sure never nobody was used as I am. I know
well enough what other girls do, for all they think to make
a fool of me. It's well I have a husband coming, or, ecod,
I'd marry the baker, I would so ! Nobody can knock at the
gate, but presently I must be locked up ; and here's the
young greyhound bitch can run loose about the house all
day long, she can ; 'tis very well.
Nurse. [ Without, opening the door.'} Miss Hoyden !
miss ! miss ! miss ! Miss Hoyden ! 9
SCENE IV.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 8 1
Enter Nurse.
Hoyd. Well, what do you make such a noise for, ha? what
do you din a body's ears for ? Can't one be at quiet for you ?
Nurse. What do I din your ears for ! Here's one come
will din your ears for you.
Hoyd. What care I who's come ? I care not a fig who
comes, nor who goes, as long as I must be locked up like the
ale-cellar.
Nurse. That, miss, is for fear you should be drank
before you are ripe.
Hoyd. Oh, don't you trouble your head about that ; I'm
as ripe as you, though not so mellow. 20
Nurse. Very well ; now have I a good mind to lock you
up again, and not let you see my lord to-night.
Hoyd. My lord ! why, is my husband come ?
Nurse. Yes, marry is he, and a goodly person too.
Hoyd. [Hugging Nurse.] O my dear nurse ! forgive me
this once, and I'll never misuse you again ; no, if I do, you
shall give me three thumps on the back, and a great pinch
by the cheek.
Nurse. Ah, the poor thing, see how it melts. It's as full
of good-nature as an egg's full of meat. 30
Hoyd. But, my dear nurse, don't lie now ; is he come
by your troth ?
Nurse. Yes, by my truly, is he.
Hoyd. O Lord ! I'll go put on my laced smock, though
I'm whipped till the blood run down my heels fort.
{.Exit running.
Nurse. Eh the Lord succour thee ! How thou art
delighted ! [Exit after her
Another Room in the same.
Enter Sir TUNBELLY and Young FASHION. A Servant
with wine.
Sir Tun. My lord, I am proud of the honour to see your
lordship within my doors ; and I humbly crave leave to bid
you welcome in a cup of sack wine.
fash. Sir, to your daughter's health. \Drinks.
Sir Tun. Ah, poor girl, she'll be scared out of her wits
on her wedding-night ; for, honestly speaking, she does not
know a man from a woman but by his beard and his
breeches.
Fash. Sir, I don't doubt but she has a virtuous education, which with the rest of her merit makes me long to see
her mine. I wish you would dispense with the canonical
hour, and let it be this very night. 12
Sir Tun. Oh, not so soon neither ! that's shooting my
girl before you bid her stand. No, give her fair warning, we'll sign and seal to-night, if you please ; and this day
seven-night let the jade look to her quarters.
Fash. This day se'nnight ! why, what, do you take me
for a ghost, sir ? 'Slife, sir, I'm made of flesh and blood,
and bones and sinews, and can no more live a week without
your daughter _AsideI\ than I can live a month with her.
Sir Tun. Oh, I'll warrant you, my hero ; young men
are hot, I know, but they don't boil over at that rate,
neither. Besides, my wench's wedding-gown is not come
home yet. 24
Fash. Oh, no matter, sir, I'll take her in her shift.
[Aside.'] A pox of this old fellow ! he'll delay the business
till my damned star finds me out and discovers me.
SCENE V.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 83
[Aloud.] Pray, sir, let it be done without ceremony, 'twill
save money.
Sir Tun. Money ! save money when Hoyden's to be
married ! Udswoons, I'll give my wench a wedding-dinner,
though I go to grass with the king of Assyria for't ; and
such a dinner it shall be, as is not to be cooked in the
poaching of an egg. Therefore, my noble lord, have a
little patience, we'll go and look over our deeds and settlements immediately ; and as for your bride, though you may
be sharp-set before she's quite ready, 111 engage for my girl
she stays your stomach at last. [Exeunt.
A Room in Sir TUNBELLY CLUMSEY'S
Country- House.
Enter Miss HOYDEN and Nurse.
Nurse. Well, miss, how do you like your husband that
is to be ?
Hoyd. O Lord, nurse ! I'm so overjoyed I can scarce
contain myself.
Nurse. Oh, but you must have a care of being too
fond ; for men now-a-days hate a woman that loves 'em.
Hoyd. Love him ! why, do you think I love him, nurse ?
ecod, I would not care if he were hanged, 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, ecod, I'll flaunt it with
the best of 'em. 1 2
Nurse. Look, look, if his honour be not coming again
to you ! Now, if I were sure you would behave yourself
handsomely, and not disgrace me that have brought you up,
I'd leave you alone together.
Hoyd. That's my best nurse, do as you would be done
by ; trust us together this once, and if I don't show my
breeding from the head to the foot of me, may I be twice
married, and die a maid.
SCENE I.] , OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 85
Nurse. Well, this once I'll venture you ; but if you disparage me 22
Hoyd. Never fear, I'll show him my parts, I'll warrant
him. [.Exit Nurse.] These old women are so wise when
they get a poor girl in their clutches ! but ere it be long, I
shall know what's what, as well as the best of 'em.
Enter Young FASHION.
Fash. Your servant, madam ; I'm glad to find you alone,
for I have something of importance to speak to you about.
Hoyd. Sir (my lord, I meant), you may speak to me
about what you please, I shall give you a civil answer.
Fash. You give rne so obliging a one, it encourages me
to tell you in few words what I think both for your interest
and mine. Your father, I suppose you know, has resolved
to make me happy in being your husband, and I hope I
may depend upon your consent, to perform what he
desires. 36
Hoyd. Sir, I never disobey my father in anything but
eating of green gooseberries.
Fash. 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 defer my happiness so long as
your father designs it.
Hoyd. Pray, my lord, how long is that ?
Fash. Madam, a thousand year a whole week.
Hoyd. A week ! why, I shall be an old woman by that
time.
Fash. And I an old man, which you'll find a greater
misfortune than t'other. 49
86 The RELAPSE;
Hoyd. Why, I thought 'twas to be to-morrow morning,
as soon as I was up ; I'm sure nurse told me so.
Fash. And it shall be to-morrow morning still, if you'll
consent.
Hoyd. If I'll consent ! Why, I thought I was to obey
you as my husband.
Fash. That's when we are married; till then, lam to
obey you.
Hoyd. 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. 60
Fash. With all my heart ; but I doubt we must get
nurse on our side, or we shall hardly prevail with the
chaplain.
Hoyd. No more we shan't indeed, for he loves her
better than he loves his pulpit, and would always be a
preaching to her by his good will.
Fash. Why then, my dear little bedfellow, if you'll call
her hither, we'll try to persuade her presently.
Hoyd. O Lord, I can tell you a way how to persuade
her to anything. 70
Fash. How's that ?
Hoyd. Why, tell her she's a wholesome comely woman
and give her half-a-crown.
Fash. Nay, if that will do, she shall have half a score of
'em.
Hoyd. O gemini ! for half that, she'd marry you herself. I'll run and call her. \Exit.
Fash. So, matters go swimmingly. This is a rare girl,
T 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
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 87
year round. What a scampering 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 show 'em sport, I'll warrant 'em. But no matter, she
brings an estate will afford me a separate maintenance. 85
Re-enter Miss HOYDEN and Nurse.
How do you do, good mistress nurse? I desired 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 ! [Aloud.] Your
honour's goodness is too great ; alas ! all I can boast of is,
I gave her pure good milk, and so your honour would have
said, an you had seen how the poor thing sucked it. Eh,
God's blessing on the sweet face on't ! how it used to hang
at this poor teat, and suck and squeeze, and kick and
sprawl it would, till the belly on't was so full, it would drop
off like a leach. 99
Hoyd. [Aside to Nurse angrily.] Pray one word with
you. Prithee nurse, don't stand ripping up old stories, to
make one ashamed before one's love. Do you think such a
fine proper gentleman as he is cares for a fiddlecome tale of a
draggle-tailed 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 Young
FASHION.] I hope your honour will excuse my mismanners to whisper before you ; it was only to give some
orders about the family. 109
88 The RELAPSE ; [ACT iv.
Fash. O everything, madam, is to give way to business !
Besides, good housewifery is a very commendable quality
in a young lady.
Hoyd. Pray, sir, are the young ladies good housewives
at London town ? Do they darn their own linen ?
Fash. O no, they study how to spend money, not to
save it.
Hoyd. Ecod, I don't know but that may be better sport
than t'other ; ha, nurse ?
Fash. Well, you shall have your choice when you come
there. 120
Hoyd. 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 ?
Fash. Yes, to-morrow, sweet nurse, privately ; young
folks, you know, are impatient, and Sir Tunbelly would
make us stay a week for a wedding dinner. Now all things
being signed and sealed, and agreed, I fancy there could 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 public. 131
Nurse. Nay, I must confess stolen pleasures are sweet ;
but if you should be married now, what will you do when
sir Tunbelly calls for you to be wed ?
Hoyd. Why then we'll be married again.
Nurse. What, twice, my child ?
Hoyd. Ecod, I don't care how often I'm married, not I.
Fash. Pray, nurse, don't you be against your young
lady's good, for by this means she'll have the pleasure of
two wedding-days. 140
SCENE I.] QR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 89
Hoyd. [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
inventions.
Hoyd. Shall I ? [Aside.'} O Lord, I could leap over
the moon !
fash. Dear nurse, this goodness of yours shan't go
unrewarded ; but now you must employ 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 ? 152
Nurse. Prevail with him ! or he shall never prevail
with me, I can tell him that.
Hoyd. My lord, she has had him upon the hip this
seven year.
fash. 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. 162
Hoyd. 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.
fash. Well, nurse, whilst you go and settle matters with
him, then your lady and I will go take a walk in the
garden.
9O The RELAPSE ; [ACT iv.
Nurse. I'll do your honour's business in the catching up
of a garter. \Exit.
Fash, [Giving her his hand.] Come, madam, dare you
venture yourself alone with me ?
Hoyd, O dear, yes, sir, I don't think you'll do anything
to me I need be afraid on. [Exeunt.
LOVELESS'S Lodgings.
Enter AMANDA and BERINTHIA.
A SONG.
I.
I smile at Love and all its arts,
The charming Cynthia cried :
Take heed, for Love has piercing darts,
A wounded swain replied.
Once free and blest as you are now,
I trifled with his charms,
I pointed at his little bow,
And sported with his arms :
Till urg'd too far, Revenge ! he cries,
A fatal shaft he drew,
It took its passage through your eyes,
And to my heart it flew.
II.
To tear it thence I tried in vain,
To strive, I quickly found,
Was only to increase 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 burden for another's sake,
Who ill rewards its care.
SCENE II.] QR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. QI
Aman. 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 echo the sighs and
groans of a dying lover.
Aman. Phu ! will you never learn to talk in earnest of
anything ?
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 jest, and then
she takes him in earnest. 12
Aman. 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
quarrel with you, for more reasons than I'll brag of; but
quarrel or not, smile or frown, I must tell you what I have
suffered upon your account.
Aman. Upon my account !
Ber. Yes, upon yours ; I have been forced to sit still
and hear you commended for two hours together, without
one compliment to myself; now don't you think a woman
had a blessed time of that ? 25
Aman. Alas ! I should have been unconcerned at it ; I
never knew where the pleasure lay of being praised by the
men. But pray who was this that commended me so ?
Ber. One you have a mortal aversion to, Mr.
Worthy ; he used you like a text, he took you all to pieces,
but spoke so learnedly upon every point, one might see the
92 The RELAPSE ; [A CT IV.
spirit of the church was in him. If you are a woman, you'd
have been in an ecstasy to have heard 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 preached for an hour, but when he came to use an
application, he observed that all these without a gallant were
nothing. Now consider of what has been said, and Heaven
give you grace to put it in practice. 39
Aman. Alas ! Berinthia, did I incline to a gallant (which
you know I do not), do you think a man so nice as he
could have the least concern for such a plain unpolished
thing as I am ? it is impossible !
Ber. Now have you a great mind to put me upon
commending you.
Aman. 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 show you I have
some good nature left, I'll commend him, and may be that
may do as well. 50
Aman. You have a great mind to persuade me I am in
love with him.
Ber. I have a great mind to persuade you, you don't
know what you are in love with.
Aman. I am sure I am not in love with him, nor never
shall be, so let that pass. But you were saying something
you would commend him for.
Ber. Oh ! you'd be glad to hear a good character of him,
however.
Aman. Psha ! 60
Ber. Psha ! Well, 'tis a foolish undertaking for women
in these kind of matters to pretend to deceive one
SCENE II.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 93
another. Have not I been bred a woman as well as
you ?
Aman. What then ?
Ber. Why, then I understand my trade so well, that
whenever 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
neither,) yet you must know your cautious behaviour, with
that reserve in your humour, has given him his death's
wound ; he mortally hates a coquette. He says 'tis impossible to love where we cannot esteem ; and that no woman
can be esteemed by a man who has sense, if she makes
herself cheap in the eye of a fool ; that pride to a woman
is as necessary as humility to a divine ; and that far-fetched
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 herself, and that by under-selling the market, they
ruin the trade. This is his doctrine, how do you like it ?
Aman. So well, that since I never intend to have a
gallant for myself, if I were to recommend one to a friend,
he should be the man. 85
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,
ladies; I hope, if I'm troublesome, you'll use the same
freedom in. turning me out again.
94 The RELAPSE ; [ACT iv.
Aman. I believe it can't be late, for Mr. Loveless 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 o'clock in the morning, and desired I would
let my servant acquaint you with it, that you might not
expect him : but my fellow's a blunderhead ; so lest he
should make some mistake, I thought it my duty to deliver
the message myself. 101
Aman. I'm very sorry he should 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 ?
Aman. Cousin, you know you command my house.
Wor. \To BERINTHIA.] And, madam, you know you
command me, though I'm a very wretched gamester.
Ber. Oh ! you play well enough to lose your money, and
that's all the ladies require ; so without any more ceremony,
let us go into the next room and call for the cards.
Aman. With all my heart.
[Exit WORTHY, leading AMANDA.
Ber. 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'S Chamber.
Enter LOVELESS cautiously in the dark.
Love. So, thus far all's well. I'm got into her bedchamber, and I think nobody has perceived me steal into
OR, VIRTUE IN DANGER. 95
the house ; my wife don't expect me home till four
o'clock ; so, if Berinthia comes to bed by eleven, I shall
have a chase of five hours. Let me see, where shall
I hide myself? Under her bed? No; we shall have
her maid searching there for something or other ; her
closet's a better place, and I have a master-key will open
it. I'll e'en in there, and attack her just when she
comes to her prayers, that's the most likely to prove her
critical minute, for then the devil will be there to
assist me. 12
[He opens the closet, goes in, and shuts the door after him.
Enter BERINTHIA, with a candle in her hand.
Ber. Well, sure I am the best-natured woman in the
world, I that love cards so well (there is but one thing upon
earth I love better), have pretended letters to write, to give
my friends a tete-a-tete : however, I'm innocent, for picquet
is the game I set 'em to : at her own peril be it, if she
ventures to play with him at any other. But now what
shall I do with myself ? I don't know how in the world to
pass my time ; would Loveless were here to badiner a little !
Well, he's a charming fellow ; I don't wonder his wife's so
fond of him. What if I should sit down and think of him
till I fall asleep, and dream of the Lord knows what ? Oh,
but then if I should dream we were married, I should be
frightened out of my wits ! [Seeing a book.'] What's this
book ? I think I had best go read. O splenetic 1 it's
a sermon. Well, I'll go into my closet, and read the
Plotting Sisters. [She of ens the closet, sees LOVELESS, and
shrieks out.'] O Lord, a ghost ! a ghost ! a ghost ! a
ghost ! 30
96 The RELAPSE ; [ACT iv.
Re-enter LOVELESS, running to her.
Love. Peace, my dear, it's no ghost; take it in your
arms, you'll find 'tis worth a hundred of 'em.
Ber. Run in again ; here's somebody coming.
[LOVELESS retires as before.
Enter Maid.
Maid. O Lord, madam ! what's the matter ?
Ber. O Heavens ! I'm almost frighted out of my wits ;
I thought verily I had seen a ghost, and 'twas nothing but
the white curtain, with a black hood pinned up against it :
you may begone again ; I am the fearfullest fool !
[Exit Maid.
Re-enter LOVELESS.
Love. Is the coast clear ?
Ber. The coast clear ! I suppose you are clear, you'd
never play such a trick as this else. 41
Love. I'm very well pleased with my trick thus far, and
shall be so till I have played it out, if it ben't your fault.
Where's my wife ?
Ber. At cards.
Love. With whom ?
Ber. With Worthy.
Love. Then we are safe enough.
Ber. Are you so ? Some husbands would be of another
mind, if he were at cards with their wives. 50
Love. And they'd be in the right on't, too : but I dare
trust mine. Besides, I know he's in love in another
place, and he's not one of those who court half-a-dozen
at a time.
SCENE III.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 97
Ber. Nay, the truth on't is, you'd pity him if you saw
how uneasy he is at being engaged with us ; but 'twas my
malice, I fancied he was to meet his mistress somewhere
else, so did it to have the pleasure of seeing him fret.
Love. What says Amanda to my staying abroad so late ?
Ber. Why, she's as much out of humour as he; I
believe they wish one another at the devil. 61
Love. Then I'm afraid they'll quarrel at play, and soon
throw up the cards. [Offering to pull her into the closet '.]
Therefore, my dear, charming angel, let us make a good
use of our time.
Ber. Heavens ! what do you mean ?
Love. Pray what do you think I mean ?
Ber. I don't know.
Love. I'll show you.
Ber. You may as well tell me. 70
Love. No, that would make you blush worse than
t'other.
Ber. Why, do you intend to make me blush ?
Love. Faith I can't tell that ; but if I do, it shall be in the
dark. [Pulling her.
Ber. O Heavens ! I would not be in the dark with you
for all the world !
Love. I'll try that. [Puts out the candles.
Ber. O Lord ! are you mad ? What shall I do for
light? 80
Love. You'll do as well without it.
Ber. Why, one can't find a chair to sit down.
Love. Come into the closet, madam, there's moonshine
upon the couch.
Ber. Nay, never pull, for I will not go.
98 The RELAPSE ; [ACT iv.
Love. Then you must be carried.
[Takes her in his arms.
Ber. [ Very softly I\ Help ! help ! I'm ravished ! ruined !
undone ! O Lord, I shall never be able to bear it.
[Exit LOVELESS carrying BERINTHIA.
A Room in Sir TUNBELLY CLUMSEY'S
House.
Enter Miss HOYDEN, Nurse, Young FASHION, and BULL.
Fash. This quick dispatch of yours, Mr. Bull, I take so
kindly, it shall give you a claim to my favour as long as I
live, I do assure you.
Hoyd. And to mine, too, I promise you.
Bull. I most humbly thank your honours ; and I hope,
since it has been my lot to join you in the holy bands of
wedlock, you will so well cultivate the soil, which I have
craved a blessing on, that your children may swarm about
you like bees about a honeycomb. 9
Hoyd. Ecod, with all my heart ; the more the merrier, I
say ; ha, nurse ?
Enter LORY ; he takes his master hastily aside.
Lory. One word with you, for Heaven's sake !
Fash. What the devil's the matter ?
Lory. Sir, your fortune's ruined; and I don't think
your life's worth a quarter of an hour's purchase. Yonder's
your brother arrived with two coaches and six horses,
twenty footmen and pages, a coat worth four-score pound,
and a periwig down to his knees : so judge what will
become of your lady's heart.
SCENE IV.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 99
Fash. Death and furies ! 'tis impossible ! 20
Lory. Fiends and spectres ! sir, 'tis true.
Fash. Is he in the house yet ?
Lory. No, they are capitulating with him at the gate.
The porter tells him he's come to run away with Miss
Hoyden, and has cocked the blunderbuss at him ; your
brother swears Gad damme, they are a parcel of clawns,
and he has a good mind to break off the match ; but they
have given the word for sir Tunbelly, so I doubt all will
come out presently. Pray, sir, resolve what you'll do this
moment, for egad they'll maul you. 30
Fash. Stay a little. [To Miss HOYDEN.] My dear,
here's a troublesome business my man tells me of, but
don't be frightened, we shall be too hard for the rogue.
Here's an impudent fellow at the gate (not knowing I was
come hither incognito] has taken my name upon him, in
hopes to run away with you.
Hoyd. O the brazen-faced varlet, it's well we are
married, or maybe we might never a been so.
Fash. [Aside.] Egad, like enough ! [Aloud.] Prithee,
dear doctor, run to sir Tunbelly, and stop him from going
to the gate before I speak with him. 41
Bull. I fly, my good lord. [Exit.
Nurse. An't please your honour, my lady and I had
best lock ourselves up till the danger be over.
Fash. Ay, by all means.
Hoyd. Not so fast, I won't be locked up any more.
I'm married.
Fash. Yes, pray, my dear, do, till we have seized this rascal.
Hoyd. Nay, if you pray me, I'll do anything.
[Exeunt Miss HOYDEN and Nurse
H 2
ioo The RELAPSE ; [ACT iv.
Fash. Oh ! here's sir Tunbelly coming. Hark you,
sirrah, things are better than you imagine ; the wedding's
over. 5 2
Lory. The devil it is, sir !
Fash. Not a word, all's safe : but sir Tunbelly don't
know it, nor must not yet ; so I am resolved to brazen the
business out, and have the pleasure of turning the
impostor upon his lordship, which I believe may easily be
done.
Enter Sir TUNBELLY, BULL, and Servants, armed.
Fash. Did you ever hear, sir, of so impudent an
undertaking ? 60
Sir Tun. Never, by the mass ! But we'll tickle him,
I'll warrant him.
Fash. They tell me, sir, he has a great many people
with him disguised like servants.
Sir Tun. Ay, ay, rogues enough ; but I'll soon raise
the posse upon 'em.
Fash. Sir, if you'll take my advice, we'll go a shorter
way to work. I find whoever this spark is, he knows
nothing of my being privately here ; so if you pretend to
receive him civilly, he'll enter without suspicion ; and as
soon as he is within the gate, we'll whip up the drawbridge
upon his back, let fly the blunderbuss to disperse his crew,
and so commit him to jail. 73
Sir Tun. Egad, your lordship is an ingenious person,
and a very great general; but shall we kill any of 'em or not ?
Fash. No, no ; fire over their heads only to fright 'em ;
I'll warrant the regiment scours when the colonel's a
prisoner.
SCENE V.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. IOI
Sir Tun. Then come along, my boys, and let your
courage be great for your danger is but small.
[Exeunt.
The Gate before Sir TUNBELLY CLUMSEY'S
House.
Enter Lord FOPPINGTON, with LA VEROLE and Servants.
Lord Fop. A pax of these bumpkinly people ! will they
open the gate, or do they desire I should grow at their
moat- side like a willow ? [To the Porter.] Hey, fellow
prithee do me the favour, in as few words as thou canst find
to express thyself, to tell me whether thy master will admit
me or not, that I may turn about my coach, and be
gone.
Porter. Here's my master himself now at hand, he's of
age, he'll give you his answer. 9
Enter Sir TUNBELLY and his Servants.
Sir Tun. My most noble lord, I crave your pardon for
making your honour wait so long; but my orders to my
servants have been to admit nobody without my knowledge,
for fear of some attempt upon my daughter, the times being
full of plots and roguery.
Lord Fop. Much caution, I must confess, is a sign of
great wisdom : but, stap my vitals, I have got a cold enough
to destroy a porter ! He, hem
Sir Tun. I am very sorry fort, indeed, my lord ;
but if your lordship please to walk in, we'll help
you to some brown sugar-candy. My lord, I'll show you
the way. 21
IO2 The RELAPSE ; [ACT iv.
Lord Fop. Sir, I follow you with pleasure.
{Exit with Sir TUNBELLY CLUMSEY. As Lord
FOPPINGTON'S Servants go to follow him in,
they clap the door against LA VEROLE.
Servants, [ Within.} Nay, hold you me there, sir.
La V'er. Jernie die, qrfest-ce que veut dire fa ?
Sir Tun. [ Within.} Fire, porter.
Porter. [Fires.} Have among ye, my masters.
La Ver. Ah, je suis mart !
[The Servants all run off.
Porter. Not one soldier left, by the mass !
A Hall in the same.
Enter Sir TUNBELLY CLUMSEY, BULL, Constable, Clerk,
and Servants, with Lord FOPPINGTON, disarmed.
Sir Tun. Come, bring him along, bring him along !
Lord Fop. What the pax do you mean, gentlemen ! Is
it fair-time, that you are all drunk before dinner ?
Sir Tun. Drunk, sirrah ! Here's an impudent rogue
for you ! Drunk or sober, bully, I'm a justice of the peace,
and know how to deal with strollers.
Lord Fop. Strollers !
Sir Tun. Ay, strollers. Come, give an account of
yourself; what's your name, where do you live ? do you
pay scot and lot ? are you a Williamite, or a Jacobite ?
Come. 1 1
Lord Fop. And why dost thou ask me so many impertinent questions ?
SCENE VI.] OK, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 1 03
Sir Tun. Because I'll make you answer 'em before I
have done with you, you rascal you !
Lord Fop. Before Gad, all the answer I can make thee
to 'em, is, that thou art a very extraordinary old fellow,
stap my vitals !
Sir Tun. Nay, if you are for joking with deputy lieutenants, we'st know how to deal with you. \To Clerk.] Here,
draw a warrant for him immediately. 21
Lord Fop. A warrant ! What the devil is't thou wouldst
be at, old gentleman ?
Sir Tun. I would be at you, sirrah (if my hands
were not tied as a magistrate), and with these two
double fists beat your teeth down your throat, you dog
you !
Lord Fop. And why wouldst thou spoil my face at that
rate?
Sir Tun. For your design to rob me of my daughter,
villain. 3 1
Lord Fop. Rab thee of thy daughter ! Now do I begin
to believe I am a-bed and asleep, and that all this is but a
dream. If it be, 'twill be an agreeable surprise enough to
waken by and by ; and instead of the impertinent company
of a nasty country justice, find myself perhaps in the arms
of a woman of quality. [To Sir TUNBELLY.] Prithee, old
father, wilt thou give me leave to ask thee one question ?
Sir Tun. I can't tell whether I will or not, till I know
what it is. 40
Lord Fop. Why, then it is, whether thou didst not write
to my lord Foppington to come down and marry thy
daughter ?
Sir Tun. Yes, marry did I ; and my lord Foppington
IO4 The RELAPSE ; [ACT iv.
is come down, and shall marry my daughter before she's a
day older.
Lord Fop. Now give me thy hand, dear dad ; I thought
we should understand one another at last.
Sir Tun. This fellow's mad. Here, bind him hand and
foot. \They bind him down.
Lord Fop. Nay, prithee, knight, leave fooling ; thy jest
begins to grow dull. 52
Sir Tun. Bind him, I say, he's mad. Bread and water,
a dark room, and a whip may bring him to his senses
again.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] Egad ! if I don't waken quickly, by
all I can see, this is like to prove one of the most impertinent dreams that ever I dreamt in my life.
Enter Miss HOYDEN and Nurse.
Hoyd. \Going up to him.'] Is this he that would have
run away with me ? Fo ! how he stinks of sweets ! Pray,
father, let him be dragged through the horse-pond.
Lord Fop. \Aside^\ This must be my wife by her
natural inclination to her husband. 63
Hoyd. Pray, father, what do you intend to do with him ?
hang him ?
Sir Tun. That at least, child.
Nurse. Ay, and it's e'en too good for him too.
Lord Fop. \AsideJ\ Madame la gouvernante, I presume.
Hitherto this appears to me to be one of the most
extraordinary families that ever man of quality matched
into. 71
Sir Tun. What's become of my lord, daughter ?
Hoyd. He's just coming, sir.
SCENE VI.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 1 05
Lord Fop. \AsideI\ My lord ! what does he mean by
that now ?
Enter Young FASHION and LORY.
[Seeing him.] Stap my vitals, Tarn ! now the dream's out.
Fash. Is this the fellow, sir, that designed to trick me
of your daughter ?
Sir Tun. This is he, my lord ; how do you like him ?
Is not he a pretty fellow to get a fortune ? 80
Fash. I find by his dress he thought your daughter
might be taken with a beau.
Hoyd. O gemini ! Is this a beau ? let me see him
again. Ha ! I find a beau's not such an ugly thing
neither.
Fash. [Aside.] Egad, she'll be in love with him
presently ; I'll e'en have him sent away to jail. [ To Lord
FOPPINGTON.] Sir, though your undertaking shows you are
a person of no extraordinary modesty, I suppose you han't
confidence enough to expect much favour from me ? 90
Lord Fop. Strike me dumb, Tarn, thou art a very
impudent fellow !
Nurse. Look, if the varlet has not the frontery to call
his lordship plain Thomas !
Bull. The business is, he would feign himself mad, to
avoid going to jail.
Lord Fop. \Aside.~\ That must be the chaplain, by his
unfolding of mysteries.
Sir Tun. Come, is the warrant writ ?
Clerk. Yes, sir. 100
Sir Tun. Give me the pen, 111 sign it. So now,
constable, away with him.
io6 The RELAPSE ;
[ACT IV.
Lord Fop. Hold one moment, pray, gentlemen. My
lord Foppington, shall I beg one word with your lordship ?
Nurse. O ho, it's my lord with him now! See how
afflictions will humble folks.
Hoyd. Pray, my lord, don't let him whisper too close,
lest he bite your ear off.
Lord Fop. I am not altogether so hungry as your ladyship is pleased to imagine. {Aside to Young FASHION.]
Look you, Tam, I am sensible I have not been so kind to
you as I ought, but I hope you'll forget what's passed, and
accept of the five thousand pounds I offer ; thou mayst
live in extreme splendour with it, stap my vitals ! 114
Fash. It's a much easier matter to prevent a disease
than to cure it ; a quarter of that sum would have secured
your mistress ; twice as much won't redeem her.
{Leaving him.
Sir Tun. Well, what says he ?
Fash. Only the rascal offered me a bribe to let him go.
Sir Tun. Ay, he shall go, with a pox to him ! Lead
on, constable.
Lord Fop. One word more, and I have done.
Sir Tun. Before Gad ! thou art an impudent fellow, to
trouble the court at this rate after thou art condemned ; but
speak once for all. 125
Lord Fop. Why then, once for all; I have at last
luckily called to mind that there is a gentleman of this
country, who I believe cannot live far from this place, if he
were here, would satisfy you, I am Navelty, baron of
Foppington, with five thousand pounds a year, and that
fellow there, a rascal not worth a groat.
Sir Tun. Very well ; now, who is this honest gentleman
SCENE VI.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. IQJ
you are so well acquainted with ? {To Young FASHION.]
Come, sir, we shall hamper him.
Lord Fop. "Pis sir John Friendly. 135
Sir Tun. So ; he lives within half a mile, and came
down into the country but last night; this bold-faced
fellow thought he had been at London still, and so quoted
him ; now we shall display him in his colours : I'll send for
sir John immediately. [To a Servant.] Here, fellow, away
presently, and desire my neighbour he'll do me the favour
tostep over, upon an extraordinary occasion. \Exit Servant.]
And in the meanwhile you had best secure this sharper in the
gate-house.
Constable. An't please your worship, he may chance to
give us the slip thence. If I were worthy to advise, I think
the dog-kennel's a surer place. 147
Sir Tun. With all my heart ; anywhere.
Lord Fop. Nay, for Heaven's sake, sir ! do me the favour
to put me in a clean room, that I mayn't daub my clothes.
Sir Tun. O, when you have married my daughter, her
estate will afford you new ones. Away with him !
Lord Fop. A dirty country justice is a barbarous magistrate, stap my vitals !
[Exit Constable with Lord FOPPINGTON.
Fash. [Aside.] Egad, I must prevent this knight's coming,
or the house will grow soon too hot to hold me. [To Sir
TUNBELLY.] Sir, I fancy 'tis not worth while to trouble sir
John upon this impertinent fellow's desire : I'll send and
call the messenger back. 159
Sir Tun. Nay, with all my heart ; for, to be sure, he
thought he was far enough off, or the rogue would never
have named him.
1 08 The RELAPSE ; [ACT iv.
Re-enter Servant.
Ser. Sir, I met sir John just lighting at the gate ; he's
come to wait upon you.
Sir Tun. Nay, then, it happens as one could wish.
fash. [Aside.'] The devil it does ! Lory, you see how
things are, here will be a discovery presently, and we shall
have our brains beat out; for my brother will be sure to
swear he don't know me : therefore, run into the stable,
take the two first horses you can light on, I'll slip out at the
back door, and we'll away immediately. 171
Lory. What, and leave your lady, sir ?
fash. There's no danger in that as long as I have taken
possession ; I shall know how to treat with ; em well enough,
if once I am out of their reach. Away ! I'll steal after thee.
\Exil LORY ; his master follows him out at
one door, as Sir JOHN FRIENDLY enters
at father.
Enter Sir JOHN FRIENDLY.
Sir Tun. Sir John, you are the welcomest man alive;
I had just sent a messenger to desire you'd step over, upon
a very extraordinary occasion. We are all in arms here.
Sir John. How so? 179
Sir Tun. Why, you must know, a finical sort of a tawdry
fellow here (I don't know who the devil he is, not I) hearing,
1 suppose, that the match was concluded between my lord
Foppington and my girl Hoyden, comes impudently to the
gate, with a whole pack of rogues in liveries, and would have
passed upon me for his lordship : but what does I ? I comes
up to him boldly at the head of his guards, takes him by the
throat, strikes up his heels, binds him hand and foot,
SCENE VI.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. IO9
dispatches a warrant, and commits him prisoner to the
dog-kennel. 189
Sir John. So ; but how do you know but this was my
lord ? for I was told he set out from London the day before
me, with a very fine retinue, and intended to come directly
hither.
Sir Tun. Why, now to show you how many lies people
raise in that damned town, he came two nights ago post,
with only one servant, and is now in the house with me. But
you don't know the cream of the jest yet ; this same rogue
(that lies yonder neck and heels among the hounds), thinking
you were out of the country, quotes you for his acquaintance,
and said if you were here, you'd justify him to be lord
Foppington, and I know not what. 191
Sir John. Pray will you let me see him ?
Sir Tun. Ay, that you shall presently. [To a Servant.]
Here, fetch the prisoner. [Exit Servant.
Sir John. I wish there ben't some mistake in the
business. Where's my lord ? I know him very well.
Sir Tun. He was here just now. [To BULL.] See for
him, doctor, tell him sir John is here to wait upon him.
\Exit BULL.
Sir John. I hope, sir Tunbelly, the young lady is not
married yet. 200
Sir Tun. No, things won't be ready this week. But why
do you say you hope she is not married ?
Sir John. Some foolish fancies only, perhaps I'm
mistaken.
Re-enter BULL.
Bull. Sir, his lordship is just rid out to take the air.
no TJu RELAPSE;
[ACT IV.
Sir Tun. To take the air ! Is that his London breeding,
to go take the air when gentlemen come to visit him ?
Sir John. Tis possible he might want it, he might not
be well, some sudden qualm perhaps.
Re-enter Constable, &<:., with Lord FOPPINGTON.
Lord Fop. Stap my vitals, I'll have satisfaction ! 210
Sir John. [Running to him.'] My dear lord Foppi ngton !
Lord Fop. Dear Friendly, thou art come in the critical
minute, strike me dumb !
Sir John. Why, I little thought I should have found
you in fetters.
Lord Fop. Why, truly the world must do me the justice
to confess, I do use to appear a little more degage : but this
old gentleman, not liking the freedom of my air, has been
pleased to skewer down my arms like a rabbit. 220
Sir Tun. Is it then possible that this should be the true
lord Foppington at last ?
Lord Fop. Why, what do you see in his face to make you
doubt of it ? Sir, without presuming to have any extraordinary
opinion of my figure, give me leave to tell you, if you had
seen as many lords as I have done, you would not think it
impossible a person of a worse taille than mine might be a
modern man of quality.
Sir Tun. Unbind him, slaves ! My lord, I'm struck
dumb, I can only beg pardon by signs ; but if a sacrifice will
appease you, you shall have it. Here, pursue this Tartar,
bring him back. Away, I say ! A dog ! Oons, I'll cut off
his ears and his tail, I'll draw out all his teeth, pull his skin
over his head and and what shall I do more ? 234
SCENE VI.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. Ill
Sir John. He does indeed deserve to be made an
example of.
Lord Fop. He does deserve to be chartre,* stap my
vitals !
Sir Tun. May I then hope I have your honour's
pardon ?
Lord Fop. Sir, we courtiers do nothing without a bribe :
that fair young lady might do miracles.
Sir Tun. Hoyden ! come hither, Hoyden.
Lord Fop. Hoyden is her name, sir ?
Sir Tun. Yes, my lord. 245
Lord Fop. The prettiest name for a song I ever heard.
Sir Tun. My lord here's my girl, she's yours, she has
a wholesome body, and a virtuous mind; she's a woman
complete, both in flesh and in spirit ; she has a bag
of milled crowns, as scarce as they are, and fifteen
hundred a year stitched fast to her tail : so, go thy
ways, Hoyden.
Lord Fop. Sir, I do receive her like a gentleman.
Sir Tun. Then I'm a happy man, I bless Heaven, and
if your lordship will give me leave, I will, like a good
Christian at Christmas, be very drunk by way of thanksgiving.
Come, my noble peer, I believe dinner's ready; if your
honour pleases to follow me, I'll lead you on to the attack
of a venison-pasty. [Exit.
Lord Fop. Sir, I wait upon you. Will your ladyship do
me the favour of your little finger, madam? 261
Hoyd. My lord, I'll follow you presently, I have a little
business with my nurse.
1 1 2 The RELAPSE ; [ACT iv.
Lord Fop. Your ladyship's most humble servant. Come,
sir John ; the ladies have des affaires.
{Exit with Sir JOHN FRIENDLY.
Hoyd. So, nurse, we are finely brought to bed ! what
shall we do now ?
Nurse. Ah, dear miss, we are all undone ! Mr. Bull,
you were used to help a woman to a remedy. {Crying.
Bull. Alack-a-day ! but it's past my skill now, I can do
nothing. 271
Nurse. Who would have thought that ever your invention
should have been drained so dry ?
Hoyd. Well, I have often thought old folks fools, and
now I'm sure they are so ; I have found a way myself to
secure us all.
Nurse. Dear lady, what's that ?
Hoyd. Why, if you two will be sure to hold your tongues,
and not say a word of what's past, I'll e'en marry this lord
too. 280
Nurse. What ! two husbands, my dear ?
Hoyd. Why, you have had three, good nurse, you may
hold your tongue.
Nurse. Ay, but not altogether, sweet child.
Hoyd. Psha ! if you had, you'd ne'er a thought much
on't.
Nurse. Oh, but 'tis a sin, sweeting !
Bull. Nay, that's my business to speak to, nurse. I do
confess, to take two husbands for the satisfaction of the
flesh, is to commit the sin of exorbitancy ; but to do it for
the peace of the spirit, is no more than to be drunk by
way of physic. Besides, to prevent a parent's wrath, is to
avoid the sin of disobedience ; for when the parent's angry,
SCENE VI.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 113
the child is froward. So that upon the whole matter, I do
think, though miss should marry again, she may be
saved.
Hoyd. Ecod, and I will marry again then ! and so
there's an end of the story. {Exeunt.
London. COUPLER'S Lodgings.
Enter COUPLER, Young FASHION, and LORY.
Coup. Well, and so sir John coming in
Fash. And so sir John coming in, I thought it might be
manners in me to go out, which I did, and getting on horseback as fast as I could, rid away as if the devil had been at
the rear of me. What has happened since, Heaven
knows.
Coup. Egad, sirrah, I know as well as Heaven.
Fash. What do you know ?
Coup. That you are a cuckold.
Fash. The devil I am ! By who? 10
Coup. By your brother.
Fash. My brother ! which way ?
Coup. The old way ; he has lain with your wife.
Fash. Hell and furies ! what dost thou mean ?
Coup. I mean plainly ; I speak no parable.
Fash. Plainly ! thou dost not speak common sense, I
cannot understand one word thou sayest.
Coup. You will do soon, youngster. In short, you left
your wife a widow, and she married again.
Fash. It's a lie. 20
Coup. Ecod, if I were a young fellow, I'd break your
head, sirrah.
SCENE I.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 1 1 5
Fash. Dear dad, don't be angry, for I'm as mad as Tom
of Bedlam.
Coup. When I had fitted you with a wife, you should
have kept her.
Fash. But is it possible the young strumpet could play
me such a trick ?
Coup. A young strumpet, sir, can play twenty tricks.
Fash. But prithee instruct me a little farther ; whence
comes thy intelligence ? 31
Coup. From your brother, in this letter ; there, you may
read it.
Fash. [Reads.'}
DEAR COUPLER, [Pulling off his hat.'] 1 have only time
to tell thee in three lines, or thereabouts, that here has been
the devil. That rascal Tarn, having stole the letter thou hadst
formerly writ for me to bring to sir Tunbelly, formed a damnable design upon my mistress, and was in a fair way of
success when I arrived. But after having suffered some
indignities (in which I have all daubed my embroidered coat],
I put him to flight. I sent out a party of horse after him,
in hopes to have made him my prisoner, which if I had done,
I would have qualified him for the seraglio, stap my
vitals ! 44
The danger I have thus narrowly 'scaped has made me
fortify myself against farther attempts, by entering immediately into an association with the young lady, by which we
engage to stand by one another as long as we both shall
live.
In short, the papers are sealed, and the contract is signed,
so the business of the lawyer is acheve; but I defer the divine
I 2
1 1 6 The RELAPSE ; [ACT v.
part of the thing till I arrive at London, not being willing
to consummate in any other bed but my own.
Postscript.
'Tt's passible I may be in tawn as soon as this letter,
far I find the lady is so violently in love with me, I have
determined to make her happy with all the dispatch that is
practicable, without disardering my coach-harses.
So, here's rare work, i'faith ! 59
Lory. Egad, Miss Hoyden has laid about her bravely !
Coup. I think my country-girl has played her part as
well as if she had been born and bred in St. James's parish.
Fash. That rogue the chaplain !
Lory. And then that jade the nurse, sir !
Fash. And then that drunken sot Lory, sir ! that could
not keep himself sober to be a witness to the marriage.
Lory. Sir with respect I know very few drunken sots
that do keep themselves sober.
Fash. Hold your prating, sirrah, or I'll break your
head ! Dear Coupler, what's to be done? 70
Coup. Nothing's to be done till the bride and bridegroom come to town.
Fash. Bride and bridegroom ! death and furies ! I
can't bear that thou shouldst call 'em so.
Coup. Why, what shall I call 'em, dog and cat ?
Fash. Not for the world, that sounds more like man
and wife than t'other.
Coup. Well, if you'll hear of 'em in no language, we'll
leave 'em for the nurse and the chaplain.
Fash. The devil and the witch ! 80
Coup. When they come to town
SCENE II.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 117
Lory. We shall have stormy weather.
Coup. Will you hold your tongues, gentlemen, or not ?
Lory. Mum !
Coup. I say when they come, we must find what stuff
they are made of, whether the churchman be chiefly composed of the flesh, or the spirit ; I presume the former. For
as chaplains now go, 'tis probable he eats three pound of beef
to the reading of one chapter. This gives him carnal
desires, he wants money, preferment, wine, a whore ; therefore we must invite him to supper, give him fat capons,
sack and sugar, a purse of gold, and a plump sister. Let
this be done, and 111 warrant thee, my boy, he speaks truth
like an oracle. 94
Fash. Thou art a profound statesman I allow it; but
how shall we gain the nurse ?
Coup. Oh ! never fear the nurse, if once you have got
the priest ; for the devil always rides the hag. Well, there's
nothing more to be said of the matter at this time, that I
know of; so let us go and inquire if there's any news of our
people yet, perhaps they may be come. But let me tell
you one thing by the way, sirrah, I doubt you have been an
idle fellow ; if thou hadst behaved thyself as thou shouldst
have done, the girl would never have left thee. \Exeunt.
BERINTHIA'S Apartment.
Enter her Maid, passing the stage, followed by WORTHY.
Wor. Hem, Mrs. Abigail! is your mistress to be spoken
with?
Abig. By you, sir, I believe she may.
Wor. Why 'tis by me I would have her spoken with.
1 1 8 The RELAPSE ; [ACT v.
Abig. I'll acquaint her, sir. [Exit.
Wor. One lift more I must persuade her to give me,
and then I'm mounted. Well, a young bawd and a
handsome one for my money ; 'tis they do the execution ;
I'll never go to an old one, but when I have occasion for a
witch. Lewdness looks heavenly to a woman, when an
angel appears in its cause; but when a hag is advocate,
she thinks it comes from the devil. An old woman has
something so terrible in her looks, that whilst she is
persuading your mistress to forget she has a soul, she
stares hell and damnation full in her face. 1 5
Enter BERINTHIA.
Ber. Well, sir, what news bring you ?
Wor, No news, madam ; there's a woman going to
cuckold her husband.
Ber. Amanda ?
Wor. I hope so.
Ber. Speed her well !
Wor. Ay, but there must be more than a God-speed, or
your charity won't be worth a farthing.
Ber. Why, han't I done enough already ?
Wor. Not quite. 25
Ber. What's the matter?
Wor. The lady has a scruple still, which you must remove.
Ber. What's that ?
Wor. Her virtue she says.
Ber. And do you believe her ?
Wor. No, but I believe it's what she takes for her
virtue ; it's some relics of lawful love. She is not yet fully
satisfied her husband has got another mistress ; which
SCENE II.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. Up
unless I can convince her of, I have opened the trenches in
vain ; for the breach must be wider, before I dare storm the
town. 36
Ber. And so I'm to be your engineer ?
Wor. I'm sure you know best how to manage the
battery.
Ber. What think you of springing a mine ? I have a
thought just now come into my head, how to blow her up
at once.
Wor. That would be a thought indeed.
Ber. Faith, I'll do't ; and thus the execution of it shall
be. We are all invited to my lord Foppington's to-night to
supper ; he's come to town with his bride, and makes a ball,
with an entertainment of music. Now, you must know, my
undoer here, Loveless, says he must needs meet me about
some private business (I don't know what 'tis) before we go
to the company. To which end he has told his wife one
lie, and I have told her another. But to make her amends,
I'll go immediately, and tell her a solemn truth. 52
Wor. What's that ?
Ber. Why, I'll tell her, that to my certain knowledge
her husband has a rendezvous with his mistress this afternoon ; and that if she'll give me her word she'll be satisfied
with the discovery, without making any violent inquiry after
the woman, I'll direct her to a place where she shall see 'em
meet. Now, friend, this I fancy may help you to a
critical minute. For home she must go again to dress.
You (with your good breeding) come to wait upon us to the
ball, find her all alone, her spirit inflamed against her
husband for his treason, and her flesh in a heat from some
contemplations upon the treachery, her blood on a fire, her
1 20 The RELAPSE ; [ACT v.
conscience in ice ; a lover to draw, and the devil to drive.
Ah, poor Amanda ! 66
Wor. _Kneeling.~] Thou angel of light, let me fall down
and adore thee !
Ber. Thou minister of darkness, get up again, for I hate
to see the devil at his devotions.
Wor. Well, my incomparable Berinthia, how shall I
requite you ?
Ber. Oh, ne'er trouble yourself about that : virtue is its
own reward. There's a pleasure in doing good, which sufficiently pays itself. Adieu ! 75
Wor. Farewell, thou best of women !
_Exeunt several ways.
Enter AMANDA meeting BERINTHIA.
Aman. Who was that went from you ?
Ber. A friend of yours.
Aman. What does he want ?
Ber. Something you might spare him, and be ne'er the
poorer.
Aman. I can spare him nothing but my friendship ; my
love already's all disposed of: though, I confess, to one
ungrateful to my bounty. 84
Ber. Why, there's the mystery ! You have been so
bountiful, you have cloyed him. Fond wives do by their
husbands, as barren wives do by their lapdogs ; cram 'em
with sweetmeats till they spoil their stomachs.
Aman. Alas ! had you but seen how passionately fond
he has been since our last reconciliation, you would have
thought it were impossible he ever should have breathed an
hour without me.
SCENE II.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 1 2 1
Ber. Ay, but there you thought wrong again, Amanda ;
you should consider, that in matters of love men's eyes are
always bigger than their bellies. They have violent
appetites, 'tis true, but they have soon dined. 96
Aman. Well ; there's nothing upon earth astonishes me
more than men's inconstancy.
Ber. Now there's nothing upon earth astonishes me less,
when I consider what they and we are composed of : for
nature has made them children, and us babies. Now,
Amanda, how we used our babies you may remember. We
were mad to have 'em as soon as we saw 'em ; kissed 'em
to pieces as soon as we got 'em ; then pulled off their
clothes, saw 'em naked, and so threw 'em away. 105
Aman. But do you think all men are of this temper?
Ber. All but one.
Aman. Who's that ?
Ber. Worthy.
Aman. Why, he's wear)' of his wife too, you see.
Ber. Ay, that's no proof.
Aman. What can be a greater ?
Ber. Being weary of his mistress.
Aman. Don't you think 'twere possible he might give
you that too ? 115
Ber. Perhaps he might, if he were my gallant ; not if he
were yours.
Aman. Why do you think he should be more constant
to me, than he would to you ? I'm sure I'm not so
handsome.
Ber. Kissing goes by favour ; he likes you best.
Aman. Suppose he does : that's no demonstration he
would be constant to me. 123
1 2 2 The RELAPSE ; [ACT v.
Ber. No, that I'll grant you : but there are other
reasons to expect it. For you must know after all,
Amanda, the inconstancy we commonly see in men of
brains, does not so much proceed from the uncertainty of
their temper, as from the misfortunes of their love. A man
sees perhaps a hundred women he likes well enough for an
intrigue, and away ; but possibly, through the whole course
of his life, does not find above one who is exactly what he
could wish her : now her, 'tis a thousand to one, he never
gets. Either she is not to be had at all (though that
seldom happens, you'll say), or he wants those opportunities
that are necessary to gain her ; either she likes somebody
else much better than him, or uses him like a dog, because
he likes nobody so well as her. Still something or other
Fate claps in the way between them and the woman they
are capable of being fond of : and this makes them wander
about from mistress to mistress, like a pilgrim from town
to town, who every night must have a fresh lodging, and's
in haste to be gone in the morning. 142
Aman. Tis possible there may be something in what
you say ; but what do you infer from it as to the man we
were talking of?
Ber. Why, I infer, that you being the woman in the
world the most to his humour, 'tis not likely he would quit
you for one that is less.
Aman. That is not to be depended upon, for you see
Mr. Loveless does so. 150
Ber. What does Mr. Loveless do ?
Aman. Why, he runs after something for variety, I'm
sure he does not like so well as he does me.
Ber. That's more than you know, madam.
SCENE II.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 123
Aman. No, I'm sure on't. I'm not very vain,
Berinthia, and yet I'd lay my life, if I could look into his
heart, he thinks I deserve to be preferred to a thousand of
her.
Ber. Don't be too positive in that neither ; a million to
one but she has the same opinion of you. What would you
give to see her? 161
Aman. Hang her, dirty trull ! Though I really believe
she's so ugly she'd cure me of my jealousy.
Ber. All the men of sense about town say she's handsome.
Aman. They are as often out in those things as any
people.
Ber. Then I'll give you farther proof all the women
about town say she's a fool. Now I hope you're convinced ?
Aman. Whate'er she be, I'm satisfied he does not like
her well enough to bestow anything more than a little
outward gallantry upon her. 171
Ber. Outward gallantry ! [Aside.} I can't bear this.
[Aloud.] Don't you think she's a woman to be fobbed off
so. Come, I'm too much your friend to suffer you should
be thus grossly imposed upon by a man who does not
deserve the least part about you, unless he knew how to set
a greater value upon it. Therefore, in one word, to my
certain knowledge, he is to meet her now, within a quarter
of an hour, somewhere about that Babylon of wickedness,
Whitehall. And if you'll give me your word that you'll be
content with seeing her masked in his hand, without pulling her headclothes off, I'll step immediately to the person
from whom I have my intelligence, and send you word
whereabouts you may stand to see 'em meet. My friend
and I'll watch 'em from another place, and dodge 'em to
1 24 The RELAPSE ; [ACT v.
their private lodging ; but don't you offer to follow 'em, lest
you do it awkwardly, and spoil all. I'll come home to you
again as soon as I have earthed 'em, and give you an
account in what corner of the house the scene of their
lewdness lies. 190
Aman. If you can do this, Berinthia, he's a villain.
Ber. I can't help that ; men will be so.
Aman. Well, I'll follow your directions, for I shall never
rest till I know the worst of this matter.
Ber. Pray, go immediately and get yourself ready then.
Put on some of your woman's clothes, a great scarf and a
mask, and you shall presently receive orders. [Calls.]
Here, who's there ? get me a chair quickly.
Enter Servant.
Ser. There are chairs at the door, madam.
Ber. 'Tis well ; I'm coming. [Exit Servant.
Aman. But pray, Berinthia, before you go, tell me how
I may know this filthy thing, if she should be so forward (as
I suppose she will) to come to the rendezvous first ; for
methinks I would fain view her a little. 204
Ber. Why, she's about my height ; and very well shaped.
Aman. I thought she had been a little crooked ?
Ber. O no, she's as straight as I am. But we lose time ;
come away. [Exeunt.
Young FASHION'S Lodgings.
Enter Young FASHION, meeting LORY.
Fash. Well, will the doctor come ?
Lory. Sir, I sent a porter to him as you ordered me.
SCENE III.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 125
He found him with a pipe of tobacco and a great tankard of
ale, which he said he would dispatch while I could tell three,
and be here.
Fash. He does not suspect 'twas I that sent for him.
Lory. Not a jot, sir ; he divines as little for himself as
he does for other folks.
Fash. Will he bring nurse with him ?
Lory. Yes. 10
Fash. That's well ; where's Coupler ?
Lory. He's half-way up the stairs taking breath; he
must play his bellows a little, before he can get to the
top.
Enter COUPLER.
Fash. Oh, here he is. Well, Old Phthisic, the doctor's
coming.
Coup. Would the pox had the doctor ! I'm quite out
of wind. [To LORY.] Set me a chair, sirrah. Ah ! [Sits
down.~\ [To Young FASHION.] Why the plague canst
not thou lodge upon the ground-floor ? 20
Fash. Because I love to lie as near heaven as I can.
Coup. Prithee, let heaven alone; ne'er affect tending
that way ; thy centre's downwards.
Fash. That's impossible ! I have too much ill-luck in
this world to be damned in the next.
Coup. Thou art out in thy logic. Thy major is true, but
thy minor is false ; for thou art the luckiest fellow in the
universe.
Fash. Make out that.
Coup. I'll do't : last night the devil ran away with the
parson of Fatgoose living. 3 1
1 26 The RELAPSE ; [ACT v.
Fash. If he had run away with the parish too, what's
that to me ?
Coup. I'll tell thee what it's to thee. This living is
worth five hundred pounds a-year, and the presentation of
it is thine, if thou canst prove thyself a lawful husband to
Miss Hoyden.
Fash. Sayest thou so, my protector? Then, egad, I
shall have a brace of evidences here presently.
Coup. The nurse and the doctor ? 40
Fash. The same. The devil himself won't have interest
enough to make 'em withstand it.
Coup. That we shall see presently. Here they come.
Enter Nurse and BULL; they start back, seeing Young
FASHION.
Nurse. Ah, goodness, Roger, we are betrayed !
Fash. [Laying hold on 'em.] Nay, nay, ne'er flinch for
the matter, for I have you safe. Come, to your trials
immediately ; I have no time to give you copies of your
indictment. There sits your judge.
Both. [Kneeling.] Pray, sir, have compassion on us.
Nurse. I hope, sir, my years will move your pity ; I am
an aged woman. 51
Coup. That is a moving argument indeed.
Bull. I hope, sir, my character will be considered ; I
am Heaven's ambassador.
Coup. Are not you a rogue of sanctity ?
Bull. Sir (with respect to my function), I do wear a
gown.
Coup. Did not you marry this vigorous young fellow to a
plump young buxom wench ?
SCEVE in.] OR, VIRTUE IN DANGER. 127
Nurse. \Aside to BULL.] Don't confess, Roger, unless
you are hard put to it indeed. 61
Coup. Come, out with't ! Now is he chewing the cud of
his roguery, and grinding a lie between his teeth.
Bull. Sir, I cannot positively say I say, sir, positively I cannot say
Coup. Come, no equivocations, no Roman turns upon
us. Consider thou standest upon Protestant ground, which
will slip from under thee like a Tyburn cart ; for in this
country we have always ten hangmen for one Jesuit.
Bull. \To Young FASHION.] Pray, sir, then will you but
permit me to speak one word in private with nurse. 7 1
Fash. Thou art always for doing something in private
with nurse.
Coup. But pray let his betters be served before him for
once : I would do something in private with her myself.
Lory, take care of this reverend gownman in the next room
a little. Retire, priest. [Exit LORY with BULL.] Now,
virgin, I must put the matter home to you a little : do you
think it might not be possible to make you speak truth ?
Nurse. Alas, sir ! I don't know what you mean by
truth. 8 1
Coup. Nay, 'tis possible thou mayest be a stranger to it.
Fash. Come, nurse, you and I were better friends when,
we saw one another last ; and I still believe you are a very
good woman in the bottom. I did deceive you and your
young lady, 'tis true, but I always designed to make a very
good husband to her, and to be a very good friend to you.
And 'tis possible, in the end, she might have found herself
happier, and you richer, than ever my brother will make
you. 90
128 The RELAPSE ;
[ACT V.
Nurse. Brother ! why is your worship then his lordship's
brother ?
Fash. I am ; which you should have known, if I durst
have stayed to have told you; but I was forced to take
horse a little in haste, you know.
Nurse. You were indeed, sir : poor young man, how he
was bound to scour for't ! Now won't your worship be
angry, if I confess the truth to you ? When I found you
were a cheat (with respect be it spoken), I verily believed
miss had got some pitiful skip-jack * varlet or other to her
husband, or I had ne'er let her think of marrying again. 101
Coup. But where was your conscience all this while,
woman? Did not that stare in your face with huge
saucer-eyes, and a great horn upon the forehead ? Did not
you think you should be damned for such a sin ? Ha ?
Fash. Well said, divinity ! press that home upon her.
Nurse. Why, in good truly, sir, I had some fearful
thoughts on't, and could never be brought to consent, till
Mr. Bull said it was a peckadilla, and he'd secure my soul
for a tithe-pig. ITO
Fash. There was a rogue for you !
Coup. And he shall thrive accordingly ; he shall have a
good living. Come, honest nurse, I see you have butter in
your compound ; you can melt. Some compassion you can
have of this handsome young fellow.
Nurse. I have, indeed, sir.
Fash. Why then, I'll tell you what you shall do for me.
You know what a warm living here is fallen ; and that it
horses up and down for the sight of purchasers. " NARES.
SCENE III.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 1 29
must be in the disposal of him who has the disposal of miss.
Now if you and the doctor will agree to prove my marriage,
I'll present him to it, upon condition he makes you his
bride. 122
Nurse. Naw the blessing of the Lord follow your good
worship both by night and by day ! Let him be fetched in
by the ears ; I'll soon bring his nose to the grindstone.
Coup. [Aside.] Well said, old white-leather ! [Aloud.]
Hey, bring in the prisoner there !
Re-enter LORY with BULL.
Coup. Come, advance, holy man. Here's your duck
does not think fit to retire with you into the chancel at this
time ; but she has a proposal to make to you in the face of
the congregation. Come, nurse, speak for yourself, you are
of age. 132
Nurse. Roger, are not you a wicked man, Roger, to set
your strength against a weak woman, and persuade her it
was no sin to conceal miss's nuptials ? My conscience flies
in my face for it, thou priest of Baal ! and I find by woful
experience, thy absolution is not worth an old cassock ;
therefore I am resolved to confess the truth to the whole
world, though I die a beggar for it. But his worship overflows with his mercy and his bounty ; he is not only pleased
to forgive us our sins, but designs thou sha't squat thee
down in Fatgoose living ; and which is more than all, has
prevailed with me to become the wife of thy bosom. 143
Fash. All this I intend for you, doctor. What you are to
do for me I need not tell you.
Bull. Your worship's goodness is unspeakable. Yet
there is one thing seems a point of conscience ; and
K
1 30 The RELAPSE ; [ACT v.
conscience is a tender babe. If I should bind myself, for
the sake of this living, to marry nurse, and maintain her
afterwards, I doubt it might be looked on as a kind of
simony. 151
Coup. [.Rising upJ\ If it were sacrilege, the living's
worth it : therefore no more words, good doctor ; but with
the parish [Giving Nurse to him.} here take the parsonage-house. 'Tis true, 'tis a little out of repair ; some
dilapidations there are to be made good ; the windows are
broke, the wainscot is warped, the ceilings are peeled, and
the walls are cracked ; but a little glazing, painting, whitewash, and plaster, will make it last thy time.
Bull. Well, sir, if it must be so, I shan't contend. What
Providence orders, I submit to. 161
Nurse. And so do I, with all humility.
Coup. Why, that now was spoke like good people.
Come, my turtle-doves, let us go help this poor pigeon to
his wandering mate again ; and after institution and induction, you shall all go a-cooing together. \Exeunt.
LOVELESS'S Lodgings.
Enter AMANDA in a scarf, &, as just returned, her Woman
following her.
Aman. Prithee what care I who has been here ?
Worn. Madam, 'twas my lady Bridle and my lady
Tiptoe.
Aman. My lady Fiddle and my lady Fad die ! What
dost stand troubling me with the visits of a parcel of
impertinent women ? When they are well seamed with the
SCENE IV.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 13!
small-pox, they won't be so fond of showing their faces.
There are more coquettes about this town
Worn. Madam, I suppose they only came to return your
ladyship's visit, according to the custom of the world. 10
Aman. Would the world were on fire, and you in the
middle on't ! Begone ! leave me ! {Exit Woman.] At
last I am convinced. My eyes are testimonies of his falsehood. The base, ungrateful, perjured villain !
Good gods ! what slippery stuff are men compos'd of !
Sure the account of their creation's false,
And 'twas the woman's rib that they were form'd of.
But why am I thus angry ?
This poor relapse should only move my scorn.
'Tis true, 20
The roving flights of his unfinish'd youth
Had strong excuses* from the plea of nature ;
Reason had thrown the reins loose on his neck,
And slipp'd him to unlimited desire.
If therefore he went wrong, he had a claim
To my forgiveness, and I did him right.
But since the years of manhood rein him in,
And reason, well digested into thought,
Has pointed out the course he ought to run ;
If now he strays, 30
Twould be as weak and mean in me to pardon,
As it has been in him t' offend. But hold :
'Tis an ill cause indeed, where nothing's to be said fort.
whose substitution of the plural for the singular saves the metre, without altering the sense.
K 2
132 The RELAPSE;
My beauty possibly is in the wane ;
Perhaps sixteen has greater charms for him :
Yes, there's the secret. But let him know,
My quiver's not entirely emptied yet,
I still have darts, and I can shoot 'em too ;
They're not so blunt, but they can enter still :
The want's not in my power, but in my will. 40
Virtue's his friend ; or, through another's heart,
I yet could find the way to make his smart.
[Going off, she meets WORTHY.
Ha ! he here !
Protect me, Heaven ! for this looks ominous.
Enter WORTHY.
Wor. You seem disorder'd, madam;
I hope there's no misfortune happen'd to you ?
Aman. None that will long disorder me, I hope.
Wor. Whate'er it be disturbs you, I would to Heaven
'Twere in my power to bear the pain,
Till I were able to remove the cause. 50
Aman. I hope ere long it will remove itself.
At least, I have given it warning to be gone.
Wor. Would I durst ask, where 'tis the thorn torments
you !
Forgive me, if I grow inquisitive ;
'Tis only with desire to give you ease.
Aman. Alas ! 'tis in a tender part.
It can't be drawn without a world of pain :
Yet out it must ;
For it begins to fester in my heart.
Wor. If 'tis the sting of unrequited love, 6
SCENE IV.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 133
Remove it instantly :
I have a balm will quickly heal the wound.
Aman. You'll find the undertaking difficult :
The surgeon, who already has attempted it,
Has much tormented me.
War. I'll aid him with a gentler hand,
If you will give me leave.
Aman. How soft soe'er the hand may be,
There still is terror in the operation.
Wor. Some few preparatives would make it easy, 70
Could I persuade you to apply 'em.
Make home reflections, madam, on your slighted love :
Weigh well the strength and beauty of your charms :
Rouse up that spirit women ought to bear,
And slight your god, if he neglects his angel.
With arms of ice receive his cold embraces,
And keep your fire for those who come in flames.
Behold a burning lover at your feet,
His fever raging in his veins !
See how he trembles, how he pants ! 80
See how he glows, how he consumes !
Extend the arms of mercy to his aid ;
His zeal may give him title to your pity,
Although his merit cannot claim your love.
Aman. Of all my feeble sex, sure I must be the weakest,
Should I again presume to think on love. [Sighing.]
Alas ! my heart has been too roughly treated.
Wor. 'Twill find the greater bliss in softer usage.
Aman. But where's that usage to be found ?
Wor. 'Tis here,
Within this faithful breast ; which if you doubt, 90
1 34 The RELAPSE ; [ACT v.
I'll rip it up before your eyes ;
Lay all its secrets open to your view ;
And then, you'll see 'twas sound.
Atnan. With just such honest words as these, the worst
of men deceived me.
Wor. He therefore merits all revenge can do ;
His fault is such,
The extent and stretch of vengeance cannot reach it.
Oh ! make me but your instrument of justice ;
You'll find me execute it with such zeal, 100
As shall convince you I abhor the crime.
Aman. The rigour of an executioner
Has more the face of cruelty than justice :
And he who puts the cord about the wretch's neck.
Is seldom known to exceed him in his morals.
Wor. What proof then can I give you of my truth ?
Aman. There is on earth but one.
Wor. And is that in my power ?
Aman. It is :
And one that would so thoroughly convince me,
I should be apt to rate your heart so high, no
I possibly might purchase'! with a part of mine.
Wor. Then Heaven, thou art my friend, and I am blest ;
For if 'tis in my power, my will I'm sure
Will reach it. No matter what the terms
May be, when such a recompense is offer'd.
Oh ! tell me quickly what this proof must be !
What is it will convince you of my love ?
Aman. I shall believe you love me as you ought,
If from this moment you forbear to ask
Whatever is unfit for me to grant. 120
SCENE IV.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 135
You pause upon it, sir. I doubt, on such hard terms,
A woman's heart is scarcely worth the having.
War. A heart, like yours, on any terms is worth it ;
Twas not on that I paus'd. But I was thinking
[.Drawing nearer to her.
Whether some things there may not be,
Which women cannot grant without a blush,
And yet which men may take without offence.
[Taking her hand.
Your hand, I fancy, may be of the number :
Oh, pardon me ! if I commit a rape [Kissing it eagerly.
Upon't ; * and thus devour it with my kisses. 130
Aman. O Heavens ! let me go.
Wor. Never, whilst I have strength to hold you
here.
[Forcing her to sit down on a couch.
My life, my soul, my goddess Oh, forgive me !
Aman. Oh whither am I going ? Help, Heaven, or I
am lost.
Wor. Stand neuter, gods, this once, I do invoke
you.
Aman. Then save me, virtue, and the glory's thine.
Wor. Nay, never strive.
Aman. I will, and conquer too.
My forces rally bravely to my aid, [Breaking from him.
And thus I gain the day.
Wor. Then mine as bravely double their attack ; 140
[Seizing her again.
printed as prose. Nevertheless, it is written in metre, and I have
ventured, in this instance, to follow Leigh Hunt in printing the whole
scene uniformly as verse.
136 The RELAPSE; [A CT V.
And thus I wrest it from you. Nay, struggle not ;
For all's in vain : or death or victory ;
I am determined.
Aman. And so am I : [Rushing from him.
Now keep your distance, or we part for ever.
Wor. [Offering again.] For Heaven's sake !
Aman. [Going.'] Nay then, farewell !
Wor. Oh stay ! and see the magic force of love.
[Kneeling, and holding by her clothes.
Behold this raging lion at your feet,
Struck dead with fear, and tame as charms can make
him.
What must I do to be forgiven by you? 150
Aman. Repent, and never more offend.
Wor. Repentance for past crimes is just and easy ;
But sin no more's a task too hard for mortals.
Aman. Yet those who hope for heaven
Must use their best endeavours to perform it.
Wor. Endeavours we may use, but flesh and blood are
got
In t'other scale ; and they are ponderous things.
Aman. Whate'er they are, there is a weight in resolution
Sufficient for their balance. The soul, I do confess,
Is usually so careless of its charge, 160
So soft, and so indulgent to desire,
It leaves the reins in the wild hand of nature,
Who like a Phaeton, drives the fiery chariot,
And sets the world on flame.
Yet still the sovereignty is in the mind,
Whene'er it pleases to exert its force.
SCENE IV.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 137
Perhaps you may not think it worth your while
To take such mighty pains for my esteem ;
But that I leave to you.
You see the price I set upon my heart ; 1 70
Perhaps 'tis dear : but, spite of all your art,
You'll find on cheaper terms we ne'er shall part.*
\Exit.
Wi>r. Sure there's divinity about her !
And sh'as dispens'd some portion on't to me.
For what but now was the wild flame of love,
Or (to dissect that specious term) the vile,
The gross desires of flesh and blood,
Is in a moment turned to adoration.
The coarser appetite of nature's gone, and 'tis,
Methinks, the food of angels I require. 1 80
How long this influence may last, Heaven knows ;
But in this moment of my purity,
I could on her own terms accept her heart.
Yes, lovely woman ! I can accept it.
For now 'tis doubly worth my care.
Your charms are much increas'd, since thus adorn'd.
When truth's extorted from us, then we own
The robe of virtue is a graceful habit.
Could women but our secret counsels scan,
Could they but reach the deep reserves of man, 190
They'd wear it on, that that of love might last ;
For when they throw off one, we soon the other cast.
Their sympathy is such
The fate of one, the other scarce can fly ;
They live together, and together die. \Exit.
138 The RELAPSE; [ACT v.
A Room in Lord FOPPINGTON'S House.
Enter Miss HOYDEN and Nurse.
Hoyd. But is it sure and certain, say you, he's my lord's
own brother ?
Nurse. As sure as he's your lawful husband.
Hoyd. Ecod, if I had known that in time, I don't know
but I might have kept him : for, between you and I, nurse,
he'd have made a husband worth two of this I have. But
which do you think you should fancy most, nurse ?
Nurse. Why, truly, in my poor fancy, madam, your
first husband is the prettier gentleman.
Hoyd. I don't like my lord's shapes, nurse. 10
Nurse. Why, in good truly, as a body may say, he is but
a slam.
Hoyd. What do you think now he puts me in mind of?
Don't you remember a long, loose, shambling sort of a
horse my father called Washy ?
Nurse. As like as two twin-brothers !
Hoyd. Ecod, I have thought so a hundred times : faith,
I'm tired of him.
Nurse. Indeed, madam, I think you had e'en as good
stand to your first bargain. 20
Hoyd. Oh, but, nurse, we han't considered the main thing
yet. If I leave my lord, I must leave my lady too; and
when I rattle about the streets in my coach, they'll only say,
There goes mistress mistress mistress what ? What's this
man's name I have married, nurse ?
Nurse. 'Squire Fashion.
Hoyd. 'Squire Fashion is it ? Well, 'Squire, that's better
SCENE V.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 139
than nothing. Do you think one could not get him made a
knight, nurse?
Nurse. I don't know but one might, madam, when the
king's in a good humour. 31
Hoyd. Ecod, that would do rarely. For then he'd be as
good a man as my father, you know.
Nurse. By'r Lady, and that's as good as the best of 'em.
Hoyd. So 'tis, faith ; for then I shall be my lady, and
your ladyship at every word, and that's all I have to care for.
Ha, nurse, but hark you me ; one thing more, and then I
have done. I'm afraid, if I change my husband again, I
shan't have so much money to throw about, nurse. 39
Nurse. Oh, enough's as good as a feast. Besides,
madam, one don't know but as much may fall to your share
with the younger brother as with the elder. For though
these lords have a power of wealth indeed, yet, as I
have heard say, they give it all to their sluts and their
trulls, who joggle it about in their coaches, with a murrain
to 'em ! whilst poor madam sits sighing, and wishing, and
knotting, and crying, and has not a spare half-crown to buy
her a Practice of Piety.* 48
Hoyd. Oh, but for that don't deceive yourself, nurse. For
this I must say for my lord, and a {Snapping her fingers'}
for him ; he's as free as an open house at Christmas. For
this very morning he told me I should have two hundred a
year to buy pins. Now, nurse, if he gives me two hundred
a year to buy pins, what do you think he'll give me to buy
fine petticoats ?
140 The RELAPSE; [A CT V.
Nurse. Ah, my dearest, he deceives thee faully, and he's
no better than a rogue for his pains ! These Londoners
have got a gibberidge with 'em would confound a gipsy.
That which they call pin-money is to buy their wives everything in the 'varsal world, down to their very shoe-ties. Nay,
I have heard folks say, that some ladies, if they will have
gallants, as they call 'em, are forced to find them out of their
pin-money too. 63
Hoyd. Has he served me so, say ye ? Then I'll be his
wife no longer, so that's fixed. Look, here he comes, with all
the fine folk at's heels. Ecod, nurse, these London ladies
will laugh till they crack again, to see me slip my collar, and
run away from my husband. But, d'ye hear ? Pray, take
care of one thing : when the business comes to break out,
be sure you get between me and my father, for you know
his tricks ; he'll knock me down.
Nurse. I'll mind him, ne'er fear, madam. 72
Enter Lord FOPPINGTON, LOVELESS, WORTHY, AMANDA,
and BERINTHIA.
Lord Fop. Ladies and gentlemen, you are all welcome.
Loveless, that's my wife ; prithee do me the favour to
salute her; and dost hear, [Aside to hint] if thau hast a
mind to try thy fartune, to be revenged of me, I won't take
it ill, stap my vitals !
Love. You need not fear, sir ; I'm too fond of my own
wife to have the least inclination to yours.
\All salute Miss HOYDEN.
Lord Fop. [Aside.] I'd give a thousand paund he
would make love to her, that he may see she has
sense enough to prefer me to him, though his own wife
SCENE V.] OR, ViRTUE IN DANGER.
has not. [Viewing him.'] He's a very beastly fellow, in
my opinion. 84
Hoyd. [Aside.] What a power of fine men there are in
this London ! He that kissed me first is a goodly gentleman, I promise you. Sure those wives have a rare time on't
that live here always.
Enter Sir TUNBELLY CLUMSEY, with Musicians,
Dancers, Grc.
Sir Tun. Come, come in, good people, come in ! Come,
tune your fiddles, tune your fiddles ! [To the hautboys. ,]
Bagpipes, make ready there. Come, strike up. [Sings.
For this is Hoyden's wedding-day,
And therefore we keep holiday,
And come to be merry.
Ha ! there's my wench, i'faith. Touch and take, I'll warrant
her ; she'll breed like a tame rabbit. 96
Hoyd. [Aside.] Ecod, I think my father's gotten drunk
before supper.
Sir Tun. [To LOVELESS and WORTHY.] Gentlemen,
you are welcome. [Saluting AMANDA and BERINTHIA.]
Ladies, by your leave. [Aside.'] Ha ! they bill like turtles.
Udsookers, they set my old blood a-fire ; I shall cuckold
somebody before morning.
Lord Fop. [To Sir TUNBELLY.] Sir, you being master
of the entertainment, will you desire the company to sit ?
Sir Tun. Oons, sir, I'm the happiest man on this side
the Ganges !
Lord Fop. [Aside.'] This is a mighty unaccountable
old fellow. [To Sir TUNBELLY.] I said, sir, it would be convenient to ask the company to sit. no
142 The RELAPSE; [ACT v.
Sir Tun. Sit? with all my heart. Come, take your
places, ladies; take your places, gentlemen. Come, sit down,
sit down; a pox of ceremony ! take your places.
[ They sit, and the masque begins.
Dialogtie between CUPID and HYMEN.
Cup. Thou bane to my empire, thou spring of contest,
Thou source of all discord, thou period to rest,
Instruct me, what wretches in bondage can see,
That the aim of their life is still pointed to thee.
Hym. Instruct me, thou little, impertinent god,
From whence all thy subjects have taken the mode
To grow fond of a change, to whatever it be, 120
And I'll tell thee why those would be bound who are free.
Chorus.
For change, we're for change, to whatever it be,
We are neither contented with freedom nor thee.
Constancy's an empty sound,
Heaven, and earth, and all go round,
All the works of Nature move,
And the joys of life and love
Are in variety.
Cup. Were love the reward of a painstaking life,
Had a husband the art to be fond of his wife, 130
Were virtue so plenty, a, wife could afford,
These very hard times, to be true to her lord,
Some specious account might be given of those
Who are tied by the tail, to be led by the nose.
SCENE V] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 143
But since 'tis the fate of a man and his wife,
To consume all their days in contention and strife ;
Since, whatever the bounty of Heaven may create her,
He's morally sure he shall heartily hate her,
I think 'twere much wiser to ramble at large,
And the volleys of love on the herd to discharge. 140
Hym. Some colour of reason thy counsel might bear,
Could a man have no more than his wife to his share :
Or were I a monarch so cruelly just,
To oblige a poor wife to be true to her trust ;
But I have not pretended, for many years past,
By marrying of people, to make 'em grow chaste.
I therefore advise thee to let me go on,
Thou'lt find I'm the strength and support of thy throne ;
Forhadst thou but eyes, thou wouldst quickly perceive it,
How smoothly the dart 1 50
Slips into the heart
Of a woman that's wed ;
Whilst the shivering maid
Stands trembling, and wishing, but dare not receive it.
Chorus.
For change, we're for change, to whatever it be,
We are neither contented with freedom nor thee.
Constancy's an empty sound,
Heaven, and earth, and all go round,
All the works of Nature move,
And the joys of life and love 160
Are in variety.
{End of the masque.
144 The RELAPSE ; [ACT v.
Sir Tun. So ; very fine, very fine, i'faith ! this is something like a wedding. Now, if supper were but ready, I'd
say a short grace ; and if I had such a bedfellow as Hoyden
to-night I'd say as short prayers.
Enter Young FASHION, COUPLER, and BULL.
How now ! what have we got here ? a ghost ? Nay, it
must be so, for his flesh and blood could never have
dared to appear before me. {To Young FASHION.] Ah,
rogue !
Lord Fop. Stap my vitals, Tam again ? 170
Sir Tun. My lord, will you cut his throat ? or shall I ?
Lord Fop. Leave him to me, sir, if you please. Prithee,
Tam, be so ingenuous now as to tell me what thy business is
here?
Fash. 'Tis with your bride.
Lord Fop. Thau art the impudentest fellow that Nature
has yet spawned into the warld, strike me speechless !
Fash. Why, you know my modesty would have starved
me ; I sent it a-begging to you, and you would not give it a
groat. 1 80
Lord Fop. And dost thau expect by an excess of
assurance to extart a maintenance fram me ?
Fash. {Taking Miss HOYDEN by the hand.~\ I do intend
to extort your mistress from you, and that I hope will prove
one.
Lord Fop. I ever thaught Newgate or Bedlam would be
his fartune, and naw his fate's decided. Prithee, Loveless,
dost know of ever a mad doctor hard by ?
Fash. There's one at your elbow will cure you presently.
{To BULL.] Prithee, doctor, take him in hand quickly. 190
SCENE V.] OR, VlRTUE IN DANGER. 145
Lord Fop. Shall I beg the favour of you, sir, to pull
your fingers out of my wife's hand ?
Fash. His wife ! Look you there ; now I hope you
are all satisfied he's mad.
Lord Fop. Naw is it nat passible far me to penetrate
what species of fally it is thau art driving at !
Sir Tun. Here, here, here, let me beat out his brains,
and that will decide all.
Lord Fop. No; pray, sir, hold, we'll destray him presently accarding to law. 200
Fash. \To BULL.] Nay, then advance, doctor : come,
you are a man of conscience, answer boldly to the questions
I shall ask. Did not you marry me to this young lady
before ever that gentleman there saw her face ?
Bull. Since the truth must out I did.
Fash. Nurse, sweet nurse, were not you a witness to it ?
Nurse. Since my conscience bids me speak I was.
Fash. [To Miss HOYDEN.] Madam, am not I your
lawful husband ?
Hoyd. Truly I can't tell, but you married me first. 210
Fash. Now I hope you are all satisfied ?
Sir Tun. {Offering to strike him, is held by LOVELESS
and WORTHY.] Oons and thunder, you lie !
Lord Fop. Pray, sir, be calm ; the battle is in disarder,
but requires more canduct than courage to rally our forces.
Pray, dactor, one word with you. {Aside to BULL.]
Look you, sir, though I will not presume to calculate your
notions of damnation fram the description you give us of
hell, yet since there is at least a passibility you may have a
pitchfark thrust in your backside, methinks it should not be
worth your while to risk your saul in the next warld, for the
L
1 46 The RELAPSE ; [ACT v.
sake of a beggarly yaunger brather, who is nat able to make
your bady happy in this. 222
Bull. Alas ! my lord, I have no worldly ends ; I speak
the truth, Heaven knows.
Lord Fop. Nay, prithee, never engage Heaven in the
matter, for by all I can see, 'tis like to prove a business for
the devil.
Fash. Come, pray, sir, all above-board; no corrupting of
evidences, if you please. This young lady is my lawful wife,
and I'll justify it in all the courts of England ; so your lordship (who always had a passion for variety) may go seek a
new mistress if you think fit. 232
Lord Fop. I am struck dumb with his impudence, and
cannot pasitively tell whether ever I shall speak again or
nat.
Sir Tun. Then let me come and examine the business
a little, I'll jerk the truth out of 'em presently. Here, give
me my dog-whip.
Fash. Look you, old gentleman, 'tis in vain to make a
noise ; if you grow mutinous, I have some friends within
call, have swords by their sides above four foot long ; therefore be calm, hear the evidence patiently, and when the jury
have given their verdict, pass sentence according to law.
Here's honest Coupler shall be foreman, and ask as many
questions as he pleases. 245
Coup. All I have to ask is, whether nurse persists in her
evidence ? The parson, I dare swear, will never flinch from
his.
Nurse. [To Sir TUNBELLY, kneeling.'] I hope in Heaven
y our worship will pardon me : I have served you long and
faithfully, but in this thing I was overreached ; your woRship,
however, was deceived as well as I, and if the wedding dinner had been ready,
you had put madam to bed to
him with your own hands.
Sir Tun. But how durst you do this, without acquainting
of me? 256
Nurse. Alas ! if your worship had seen how the poor
thing begged, and prayed, and clung, and twined about me,
like ivy to an old wall, you would say, I who had suckled
it and swaddled it, and nursed it both wet and dry, must
have had a heart of adamant to refuse it.
Sir Tun. Very well !
Fash. Foreman, I expect your verdict.
Coup. Ladies and gentlemen, what's your opinions ?
All. A clear case ! a clear case !
Coup. Then, my young folks, I wish you joy.
Sir Tun. [To Young FASHION.] Come hither, stripling ;
if it be true then, that thou hast married my daughter,
prithee tell me who thou art ? 269
Fash. Sir, the best of my condition is, I am your son-inlaw ; and the worst of it is, I am brother to that noble peer
there.
Sir Tun. Art thou brother to that noble peer ? Why,
then, that noble peer, and thee, and thy wife, and the nurse,
and the priest may all go and be damned together ! [Exit.
Lord Fop. [Aside.'] Now, for my part, I think the wisest
thing a man can do with an aching heart is to put on a
serene countenance; for a philosophical air is the most
becoming thing in the world to the face of a person of quality.
I will therefore bear my disgrace like a great man, and let the
people see I am above an affront. [Aloud.'] Dear Tarn,
since things are thus fallen aut, prithee give me leave to wish
148 The RELAPSE; [A CT V.
thee jay ; I do it de bon axur, strike me dumb ! You have
married a woman beautiful in her person, charming in
her airs, prudent in her canduct, canstant in her inclinations,
and of a nice marality, split my windpipe ! 286
Fash. Your lordship may keep up your spirits with your
grimace if you please ; I shall support mine with this lady,
and two thousand pound a-year. [Taking Miss HOYDEN'S
handJ]
Come, madam :
We once again, you see, are man and wife,
And now, perhaps, the bargain's struck for life.
If I mistake, and we should part again,
At least you see you may have choice of men :
Nay, should the war at length such havoc make,
That lovers should grow scarce, yet for your sake,
Kind Heaven always will preserve a beau :
[Pointing to Lord FOPPINGTON.
You'll find his lordship ready to come to.
Lord Fop. Her ladyship shall stap my vitals, if I do.
\Exeunt omnes.
