Part 5

_Wor._ Now am I 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.

_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.

_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 Confidante. 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 shou'd do, (my dear _Berinthia_) we may all four pass the Winter very pleasantly.

_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 skrew them to a pitch by degrees, I don't doubt but she may endure to be play'd upon.

_Wor._ Ay, and will make admirable Musick 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.

_Ber._ I have had so much Discourse with her, that I believe were she once cur'd of her fondness to her Husband, the Fortress of her Virtue wou'd 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 there 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!

_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?

_Ber._ What you cou'd 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, tho' 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 be gone as soon as you please.

_Wor._ I'm under Sail already. Adieu.

[_Exit ~Wor~._

_Ber._ _Bon Voyage._

_Sola._

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 ruin'd me, if I had refus'd 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._

_Wom._ If you please, Madam, only to say, whether you'll have me to buy 'em or not.

_Aman._ Yes, no, go fiddle; I care not what you do. Pr'ythee leave me.

_Wom._ I have done.

[_Exit Wom._

_Ber._ What in the Name of _Jove_'s the matter with you?

_Aman._ The matter, _Berinthia_! I'm almost mad, I'm plagu'd to death.

_Ber._ Who is it that plagues you?

_Aman._ Who do you think shou'd plague a Wife, but her Husband?

_Ber._ O ho, is it come to that? We shall have you wish yourself a Widow by and by.

_Aman._ Wou'd I were any thing 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, I'll 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 shou'd be nothing, if I were in your Case.

_Aman._ Why, what wou'd 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.

_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.

_Aman._ Well, I won't; but let me know all you can without Perjury.

_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 shew, 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._ O, 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 them all; for to my certain knowledge your husband is a pickering elsewhere.

_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 no such 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!

_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.

_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~._

+SCENE+, _A Country-House_.

_Enter ~Young~ Fashion and ~Lory~._

_Young 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 design'd for the Fowls of the Air, and the Beasts of the Field.

_Lo._ Pray, Sir, don't let your Head run upon the Orders of Building here; get but the Heiress, let the Devil take the House.

_Young 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.

_Lo._ I'gad, Sir, this will prove some inchanted Castle; we shall have the Giant come out by and by with his Club, and beat our Brains out.

[_Knocks again._

_Young Fash._ Hush! they come.

_From within._] Who is there?

_Lo._ Open the Door and see: Is that your Country Breeding?

_Within._ Ay, but two Words to a Bargain: _Tummus_, is the Blunderbuss prim'd?

_Young Fash._ Oons, give 'em good Words, _Lory_; we shall be shot here a Fortune-catching.

_Lo._ I'gad, Sir, I think y'are in the right on't. Ho, Mr. What d'ye-call-um.--[_Servant appears at the Window with a Blunderbuss._] Weal naw, what's yar Business?

_Young 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.

_Young 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, do'st hear? call to Nurse, that she may lock up Miss _Hoyden_ before the Gates open.

_Young Fash._ D'ye hear that, _Lory_?

_Lo._ Ay, Sir, I'm afraid we shall find a difficult Jobb on't. Pray Heaven that old Rogue _Coupler_ han't sent us to fetch Milk out of the Gunroom!

_Young Fash._ I'll warrant thee all will go well: See; the Door opens.

_Enter Sir ~Tunbelly~, with his Servants arm'd with Guns, Clubs, Pitchforks, Scythes, ~&c.~_

_Lo._ [_Running behind his Master._] O Lord, O Lord, O Lord, we are both dead Men!

_Young Fash._ Take heed, Fool, thy Fear will ruin us.

_Lo._ My Fear, Sir--'Sdeath, Sir, I fear nothing. [_Aside._] Wou'd I were well up to the Chin in a Horse-Pond!

Sir _Tun._ Who is it here has any Business with me?

_Young 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 asham'd of my Name--nor my Face--neither.

_Young 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.

_Young Fash._ [_Giving him a Letter._] Sir, I hope you'll find this Letter an Authentick Passport.

Sir _Tun._ God's my life, I ask your Lordship's Pardon ten thousand times. [_To his 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. [_Turning to ~Young Fash~._] My Lord, I ask your Lordship's pardon. [_To 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._

_To_ Young Fash.] I hope your Honour will excuse the disorder of my Family; we are not us'd to receive Men of your Lordship's great Quality every day; pray where are your Coaches and Servants, my Lord?

_Young 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 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 tho' I say it, that shou'd not say it--_Hoyden_ has Charms.

_Young Fash._ Sir, I am not a Stranger to them, tho' I am to her. Common Fame has done her Justice.

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.

_Young Fash._ Sir, I wait upon you.

[_Exeunt._

_Miss ~Hoyden~ sola._

Sure never no body was us'd 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 a coming, or I'cod, I'd marry the Baker, I wou'd so. No body can knock at the Gate, but presently I must be lockt up; and here's the young Greyhound Bitch can run loose about the House all the day long, she can; 'tis very well.

_Nurse ~without~, opening the Door._

Miss _Hoyden_! Miss, Miss, Miss! Miss _Hoyden_!

_Enter ~Nurse~._

_Miss._ 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.

_Miss._ What care I who's come? I care not a Fig who comes, nor who goes, as long as I shall be lockt up like the Ale-Cellar.

_Nurse._ That, Miss, is for fear you shou'd be drank before you are ripe.

_Miss._ O, don't you trouble your Head about that; I'm as ripe as you, tho' not so mellow.

_Nurse._ Very well; now I have a good mind to lock you up again, and not let you see my Lord to-night.

_Miss._ My Lord! Why, is my Husband come?

_Nurse._ Yes, marry is he, and a goodly Person too.

_Miss._ [_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.

_Miss._ But, my dear Nurse, don't lie now; is he come, by your troth?

_Nurse._ Yes, by my truly, is he.

_Miss._ O Lord! I'll go and put on my lac'd Smock, tho' I am whipt till the Blood run down my Heels for't.

[_Exit running._

_Nurse._ Eh----the Lord succour thee, how thou art delighted!

[_Exit after her._

_Enter Sir ~Tunbelly~ and ~Young Fashion~. A Servant with Wine._

Sir _Tun._ My Lord, I'm 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.

_Young Fash._ Sir, to your Daughter's Health.

[_Drinks._

Sir _Tun._ Ah poor Girl, she'll be fear'd 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.

_Young Fash._ Sir, I don't doubt she has had a virtuous Education, which, with the rest of her Merit, makes me long to see her mine. I wish you wou'd dispense with the Canonical Hour, and let it be this very Night.

Sir _Tun._ O 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.

_Young Fash._ This Day seven-night----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--than I can live a Month with her.

[_Aside._

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.

_Young Fash._ O, no matter, Sir; I'll take her in her Shift. [_Aside._] A Pox of this old Fellow, he'll delay the Business till my damn'd Star finds me out, and discovers me. [_To Sir ~Tun.~_] Pray, Sir, let it be done without Ceremony; 'twill save Money.

Sir _Tun._ Money----Save Money when _Hoyden_'s to be marry'd? Udswoons, I'll give my Wench a Wedding-Dinner, tho' I go to Grass with the King of _Assyria_ for't; and such a Dinner it shall be, as is not to be cook'd 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, tho' you may be sharp-set before she's quite ready, I'll engage for my Girl, she stays your Stomach at last.

[_Exeunt._

+ACT+ IV. +SCENE+ I.

_Enter Miss ~Hoyden~ and ~Nurse~._

_Nurse._ Well, Miss, how do you like your Husband that is to be?

_Miss._ O Lord, Nurse, I'm so overjoy'd, I can scarce contain myself.

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

_Miss._ Love him! Why do you think I love him, Nurse? I'cod, I would not care if he were hang'd, so I were but once married to him----No----that which pleases me, is to think what Work I'll make when I get to _London_; for when I am a Wife and a Lady both, Nurse, I'cod, I'll flant it with the best of 'em.

_Nurse._ Look, look, if his Honour be not a coming to you; now if I were sure you wou'd behave yourself handsomely, and not disgrace me that have brought you up, I'd leave you alone together.

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

_Nurse._ Well, this once I'll venture you; but if you disparage me----

_Miss._ Never fear, I'll shew him my Parts, I'll warrant him.

[_Exit ~Nurse~._

_Sola._

These old Women are so wise when they get a poor Girl into their Clutches; but ere it be long, I shall know what's what, as well as the best of 'em.

_Enter ~Young Fashion~._

_Young Fash._ Your Servant, Madam, I'm glad to find you alone; for I have something of Importance to speak to you about.

_Miss._ Sir, (my Lord, I meant) you may speak to me about what you please, I shall give you a civil Answer.

_Young Fash._ You give me 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 resolv'd to make me happy in being your Husband, and I hope I may depend upon your Consent, to perform what he desires.

_Miss._ Sir, I never disobey my Father in any thing but eating of green Gooseberries.

_Young Fash._ So good a Daughter must needs be 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.

_Miss._ Pray, my Lord, how long is it?

_Young Fash._ Madam, a thousand Year----a whole Week.

_Miss._ A Week!----why, I shall be an old Woman by that time.

_Young Fash._ And I an old Man, which you'll find a greater Misfortune than t'other.

_Miss._ Why I thought it was to be to-morrow Morning, as soon as I was up; I'm sure Nurse told me so.

_Young Fash._ And it shall be to-morrow Morning still, if you'll consent.

_Miss._ If I'll consent! Why I thought I was to obey you as my Husband.

_Young Fash._ That's when we are married; till then, I am to obey you.

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

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

_Miss._ No more we shan't indeed, for he loves her better than he loves his Pulpit, and wou'd always be a preaching to her, by his good Will.

_Young Fash._ Why then, my dear little Bedfellow, if you'll call her hither, we'll try to persuade her presently.

_Miss._ O Lord, I can tell you a way how to persuade her to any thing.

_Young Fash._ How's that?

_Miss._ Why tell her she's a wholesome, comely Woman----and give her Half a Crown.

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

_Miss._ O Gemini, for half that she'd marry you herself: I'll run and call her.

[_Exit ~Miss~._

_~Young Fashion~ solus._

So, Matters go swimmingly; this is a rare Girl, i'faith; I shall have a fine time of it with her at _London_. I'm much mistaken if she don't prove a _March_ Hare all the Year round. What a scampering Chace will she make on't, when me finds the whole Kennel of Beaux at her Tail! Hey to the _Park_ and the Play, and the Church, and the Devil; she'll shew them sport, I'll warrant 'em. But no matter, she brings an Estate will afford me a separate Maintenance.

_Enter ~Miss~ and ~Nurse~._

_Young Fash._ How do you do, good Mistress Nurse? I desir'd your young Lady would give me leave to see you, that I might thank you for your extraordinary Care and Conduct in her Education; pray accept of this small Acknowledgement for it at present, and depend upon my farther Kindness, when I shall be that happy thing her Husband.

_Nurse._ [_Aside._] Gold by mackins! Your Honour's Goodness is too great: alas! all I can boast of is, I gave her poor good Milk, and so your Honour wou'd have said, an you had seen how the poor thing suck't it----Eh, God's blessing on the sweet Face on't! how it us'd to hang at this poor Teat, and suck and squeeze, and kick and sprawl it wou'd, till the Belly on't was so full, it wou'd drop off like a Leech.

[_~Miss~ to ~Nurse~, taking her angrily aside._

Pray one word with you; pr'ythee, Nurse, don't stand ripping up old Stories, to make one asham'd before one's Love: do you think such a fine proper Gentleman as he is, cares for a fiddlecome Tale of a draggle-tail'd Girl;, if you have a mind to make him have a good Opinion of a Woman, don't tell him what one did then, tell him what one can do now. [_To_ Young Fash.] I hope your Honour will excuse my Mismanners to whisper before you, it was only to give some orders about the Family.

_Young Fash._ O every thing, Madam, is to give way to Business; besides, good Housewifery is a very commendable Quality in a young Lady.

_Miss._ Pray, Sir, are the young Ladies good Housewives at London Town? Do they darn their own Linen?

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

_Miss._ I'cod, I don't know but that may be better Sport than t'other, ha, Nurse!

_Young Fash._ Well, you shall have your Choice when you come there.

_Miss._ Shall I----then by my troth I'll get there as fast as I can.

_To Nurse._] His Honour desires you'll be so kind, as to let us be marry'd to-morrow.

_Nurse._ To-morrow, my dear Madam?

_Young Fash._ Yes, to-morrow, sweet Nurse, privately; young Folks, you know, are impatient, and Sir _Tunbelly_ wou'd make us stay a Week for a Wedding-Dinner. Now all things being sign'd and seal'd, and agreed, I fancy there cou'd be no great harm in practising a Scene or two of Matrimony in private, if it were only to give us the better Assurance when we come to play it in publick.

_Nurse._ Nay, I must confess stolen Pleasures are sweet; but if you shou'd be married now, what will you do when Sir _Tunbelly_ calls for you to be wedded?

_Miss._ Why then we will be married again.

_Nurse._ What, twice, my Child?

_Miss._ I'cod, I don't care how often I'm married, not I.

_Young 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.

_Miss to Nurse softly._] And of two Wedding-Nights too, Nurse.

_Nurse._ Well, I'm such a tender-hearted Fool, I find I can refuse you nothing; so you shall e'en follow your own Inventions.

_Miss._ Shall I? [_Aside._] O Lord, I could leap over the Moon.

_Young 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 his friendly Office too, and then we shall be all happy; do you think you can prevail with him?

_Nurse._ Prevail with him----or he shall never prevail with me, I can tell him that.

_Miss._ My Lord, she has had him upon the hip this seven Year.

_Young 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.

_Miss._ Faith, do, Nurse, make him marry you too; I'm sure he'll do't for a fat Living; for he loves Eating more than he loves his _Bible_; and I have often heard, him say, a fat Living was the best Meat in the World.

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