Chapter XXX: Act IV: SCENE I. The Prince’s Lodgings

Enter Page with Lights, sets ‘em on the Table. [Ex.

Enter _Mirtilla_, led by Mrs. _Manage_.

_Mir._ Ha! where am I, _Manage_?

_Man._ Heav’n be thanked, Madam, at the Prince’s Lodgings.

_Mir._ What happy Star conducted us, and sav’d us from the Fury of the Flames?

_Man._ Those whose Influence are always gracious to your Ladyship.

_Mir._ But where’s the Prince? where’s my illustrious Lover?

_Man._ Waiting the Return of the Chair, Madam.

_Mir._ But my _Endimion_?--Is _Endimion_ safe?

_Man._ Madam, he is: I saw him in the Garden.

_Mir._ Then perish all the rest--Go send to search him out, and let him instantly be brought to me--Hah--_Lejere_.

Enter _George_.

_Geo._ Baud, stand aside--and do your Office yonder--
[Puts away _Manage_.
Why are you frighted, Madam, because I’m not the Lover you expected?

_Mir._ What Lover! be witness, Heaven--

_Geo._ That thou art false, false as the insatiate Seas, that smiling tempt the vain Adventurer, whom flattering, far from any saving there, swell their false Waves to a destructive Storm.

_Mir._ Why all this mighty Rage?--Because I disappointed you to night?

_Geo._ No, by Heaven, I dully cou’d have waited for the Hour; have hop’d, and wish’d, and languish’d out an Age. But, oh _Mirtilla_! Oh thou perjur’d Fair!--But vanish all the Softness of my Soul, I will be satirical.

_A Plague, a Torment, to your fickle Sex,_
_Those smiling, sighing, weeping Hypocrites._

_Mir._ And can you think my Flight is criminal? because I sav’d this worthless Life--for you--

_Geo._ What Innocence adorns her Tongue, and Eyes! while Hell and Furies give her Heart its motion. You know not where you are?

_Mir._ Perhaps I do not.

_Geo._ Swear, for thou’rt damn’d already, and by what black Degrees I will unfold: When first I saw this gay, this glorious Mischief, though nobly born, ‘twas hid in mean Obscurity; the shining Viper lay half dead with Poverty, I took it up, and laid it next my Heart, fed it, and call’d its faded Beauties back.

_Mir._ Confess’d; And what of this?

_Geo._ Confirm’d you mine, by all the Obligations Profuseness cou’d invent, or Love inspire.

_Mir._ And yet at your Return you found me marry’d to another.

_Geo._ Death and Hell! that was not yet the worst: You flatter’d me with some Pretence of Penitence; but on the Night, the dear destructive Night, you rais’d my Hopes to all distracting Love cou’d wish--that very Night--Oh, let me rave and die, and never think that Disappointment o’er!

_Mir._ What, you saw me courted at the Ball, perhaps.

_Geo._ Perhaps I saw it in your Chamber too. Breathless and panting, with new-acted Joys, the happy Lover lay--Oh _Mirtilla_!

_Mir._ Nay, if he knows it, I’ll deny’t no more. [Aside.

_Geo._ There is no Honesty in all thy Kind.

_Mir._ Or if there be, those that deal in’t are weary of their Trade. But where’s the mighty Crime?

_Geo._ No, I expect thou shouldst out-face my Eyes, out-swear my Hearing, and out-lye my Senses.--The Prince! the Prince! thou faithless dear destruction.

_Mir._ The Prince! good Heaven! Is all this Heat for him?

_Geo._ Thou own’st the Conquest then?

_Mir._ With as much Vanity as thou wouldst do, if thou hadst won his Sword: Hast thou took care wisely to teach me all the Arts of Life, and dost thou now upbraid my Industry? Look round the World, and thou shalt see, _Lejere_, Ambition still supplies the place of Love. The worn-out Lady, that can serve your Interest, you swear has Beauties that out-charms Fifteen; and for the Vanity of Quality, you feign and languish, lye, protest, and flatter--All Things in Nature cheat, or else are cheated.

_Geo._ Well said; take off thy Veil, and shew the Jilt.

_Mir._ You never knew a Woman thrive so well by real Love, as by Dissimulation: This has a thousand Arts and Tricks to conquer; appears in any Shape, in any Humour; can laugh or weep, be coy or play, by turns, as suits the Lover best, while simple Love has only one Road of Sighs and Softness; these to _Lejere_ are due: But all my Charms, and Arts of gay dissembling, are for the credulous Prince.--Ha--he’s here!--and with him the dear Youth that has enslav’d me, who triumphs o’er the rest. [Aside.

Enter Prince _Frederick_, _Olivia_ following, sees _Mirtilla_, and
withdraws.

_Oliv._ Ha! _Mirtilla_, and my Brother here? Oh, how I long to see that Stranger’s Face. [Aside.

_Prince._ _Mirtilla_, thou Charmer of Life’s dull and tedious Hours, how fares thy Heart? Dwells any Pantings there, but those that Love, and his dear Joys create?

_Mir._ Or if there do, you shou’d excuse it now.

_Geo._ How many Devils reign in beauteous Woman!

_Prince._ My dear _Lejere_, congratulate my Joys; take all my Friendship thou--but thou my Soul. Come, come, my Friend, let us retire together; I’ll give thee leave to gaze upon my Heaven, and feed on all the Sweets that Friendship may: But all the rest of the vast Store is mine.

_Man._ Madam, _Endimion_ is already here. [Aside to her.

_Mir._ Thou hast reviv’d me--Let him wait my Call.
[Exit _Prince_ with _Mirtilla_, _George_ goes out, and peeps at
the Door. _Olivia_ comes forward.

_Oliv._ Spite, Spite, and dire Revenge seize my fond Soul!--Oh, that I were a Man, a loose leud Man; how easily wou’d I rob him of her Heart, and leave him but the shadow of Enjoyment!

Re-enter _George_.

_Geo._ Now, my dear Sister, if thou ever lov’dst me, revenge thy Brother on this perjur’d Woman, and snatch her from this gallant Rival’s Arms. She loves thee--Dissemble thou to love again; meet her Advances with an equal Ardour, and when thou hast wound her up to dalliance, I’ll bring the Prince a witness of her Shame.

_Oliv._ But what if he shou’d kill me--

_Geo._ I’ll take care of that.

_Oliv._ Then e’er the morning dawns, you shall behold it: She languishes to see me, and I wait on purpose for her Commands.

_Geo._ As I cou’d wish: Be sure to act the Lover well. [Exit.

_Oliv._ As well as I can act it.

Enter _Welborn_, habited as last.

That all Mankind are damn’d, I’m positive; at least all Lovers are.

_Wel._ What have we here? the Spark that rally’d me about a Woman at the Ball to night? Who is it, Sir, you curse so heartily.

_Oliv._ Ha, how beautiful he is--how many Charms dwell in that lovely
Face--
[Aside.
‘Tis you I curse.

_Wel._ Gad, I thank you for that, you were kinder to night, when you told me of a fine Woman that was in love with me.

_Oliv._ Why, what have you to do with Woman-kind?

_Wel._ A pretty civil Question; has the Lady that sent you a mind to be inform’d.

_Oliv._ Or if she had, you’re not at leisure now, you are taken up, Sir, with another Beauty. Did not you swear, never to speak to Woman-kind, till I had brought her, I told you, sigh’d for you?

_Wel._ Right, and I have kept my word religiously.

_Oliv._ The Devil you have, witness the Joy _Mirtilla_ gave your Soul: Even now you were all Transport, all Extasy of Love; by Heaven, you had forgot you brought me in, and past triumphant in _Mirtilla’s_ Arms, Love in your Heart, and Pleasure in your Eyes.

_Wel._ Ay, sure he mistakes me for the amorous Prince, and thus, perhaps, has mistook me all the Night: I must not undeceive him. [Aside. Whate’er you saw, I have a Heart unwounded, a Heart that never soundly loved, a little scratch it got the other day by a young Beauty in the _Mall_, her Name I know not, but I wish’d to know it, and dogg’d her Coach, I sigh’d a little after her, but since ne’er saw the lovely Vision.

_Oliv._ Sure this was I. [Aside.
What Livery had she, Sir?

_Wel._ That I took notice of, ‘twas Green and Gold--Since that, I trifle now and then with Love, to chase away this Image, and that’s all.

_Oliv._ Ha, now I view him well, ‘tis the same handsome Fellow that entertain’d us in the _Mall_ last Thursday.

_Wel._ Come, Sir, ‘tis late, please you to take a Bed with me to Night, where we’ll beget a better Understanding.

_Oliv._ A better than you imagine--’Sdeath, to bed with him, I tremble at the thought--Sir, I do not love a Bedfellow.

_Wel._ Sir, I have lent my Lodgings to a Stranger of Quality, or I wou’d offer you a single Bed--but for once you may dispense with a Bedfellow.

_Oliv._ I will not put you to that trouble, Sir.

_Wel._ Do you design to make me your Friend, and use me with Ceremony? Who waits there?

Enter Footman.

_Oliv._ ‘Slife, what shall I do? I cou’d even consent, to prevent his going to _Mirtilla_--besides, I have no home to go to--

_Wel._ Come, no more Scruples--here--a Night-Gown and a Cap for the Gentleman.

_Oliv._ What shall I do?--I have a little urgent Business, Sir.

_Wel._ If there be absolute necessity, I’ll see you to your Lodgings.

_Oliv._ Oh, by no means, Sir. ‘Sdeath, whither can I go?

_Wel._ Why do you pause? Deal freely with me, Sir, I hope you do not take me for a Lover of my own Sex-- Come, come to bed.

_Oliv._ Go you, Sir, I’ll sit and read by you till Day.

_Wel._ ‘Sdeath, Sir, d’ye think my bed’s infectious?

_Oliv._ I shall betray my Sex in my denial, and that at last I can but
do if Necessity compel me to’t.
[Aside.
Go on, Sir, you have shamed me.

[Exeunt.

Enter _Prince_ and _George_.

_Prince._ And thus thou hast my whole Adventure out, short was the Conquest, but the Joys are lasting.

_Geo._ I am glad on’t, Sir.

_Prince._ Why dost wear a Cloud upon thy brows, when Love’s gay Sunshine dances in my Eyes? If thou’rt her Lover too, I pity thee; her solemn Vows breath’d in the height of Love, disarm me of thy hopes, if Friendship wou’d permit thee.

_Geo._ I do not think it, Sir--

_Prince._ Not think it, not think that she has sworn!

_Geo._ Yes, doubtless, Sir--she’s prodigal of Vows, and I dare swear, by all she’s sworn by, she’ll break ‘em all: She has less Faith than all the fickle Sex, uncertain and more wanton than the Winds, that spare no Births of Nature in their wild course, from the tall Cedar to the Flowers beneath, but ruffle, ravish, and ruin all.

_Prince._ I speak of my _Mirtilla_.

_Geo._ Why, so do I--of yours, of mine, or any Man’s _Mirtilla._

_Prince._ Away, she that with force of Love can sigh and weep--

_Geo._ This very she, has all the while dissembled! Such Love she deals to every gaudy Coxcomb, how will she practice then upon a Hero?

_Prince._ Away, it cannot be.

_Geo._ By all your Friendship to me, Sir, ‘tis truth.

_Prince._ Racks and Tortures!--let her have made of me a mere Example, by whom the cozen’d World might have grown wise: No matter, then I had been pleas’d, though cullyed--Why hast thou ruined my Repose with Truths that carry more Damnation than a Lye? But Oh--thou art my Friend, and I forgive thee.

_Geo._ Sir, I have done, and humbly ask your Pardon. [Offers to go.

_Prince._ Stay, stay, _Lejere_,--if she be false, thou’rt all the World has left me; and I believe--but canst thou prove this to me?

_Geo._ Perhaps I may before the Morning’s dawn.

_Prince._ Ha, prove it here--here, in this very House!

_Geo._ Ay, here, Sir.

_Prince._ What, in my Lodgings will she receive her Spark--by Heaven, were he the darling Son of a Monarch, an Empire’s Hope, and Joy of all the Fair, he shou’d not live to rifle me of Peace.--Come, shew me this destin’d Victim to my Rage.

_Geo._ No, my Revenge is only comical--If you wou’d see how Woman can dissemble, come on, and follow me.

_Prince._ What, disturb her Rest! Didst thou not see her fainting with the Fatigues this Night had given her, and begg’d me I would leave her to Repose?

_Geo._ Yes, and wonder’d at her Art; and when you begg’d to watch by her Bed-side, with what dear Promises she put you off; while every word fell feebly from her Tongue, as if’t had been her last, so very sick she was--till you were gone--Hark--a Door opens--I will obscure the Lights. [Puts away the Lights.

Enter _Olivia._ They retire a little.

_Oliv._ Was ever Maid so near to being undone? Oh Heavens! in bed with the dear Man I love, ready to be betray’d by every Sigh. [_George_ peeps.

_Geo._ ‘Tis _Olivia_.

Enter _Manage_ groping.

_Man._ I left him here--what, by dark? _Endimion_, young, handsome Sir, where are you? [Calls _Olivia_.

_Geo._ Do you hear that, Sir?

_Man._ Oh, are you here?-- [Runs against _Olivia_.

_Oliv._ ‘Slife, ‘tis _Manage_--how shall I escape?-- [Aside.

_Man._ Come, Sir, my Lady _Mirtilla_ has dismiss’d her troublesome Lovers, for your more agreeable Company.

_Geo._ D’ye hear that, Sir?

_Man._ Come softly on, Sir, and follow me.

_Oliv._ I’m all Obedience--

She cannot ravish me, and that’s a Comfort. [Aside, going out.

_Prince._ Oh, _Lejere_--can this be possible? Can there be such a Woman?

_Geo._ Follow him, Sir, and see--

_Prince._ See what!--be witness of her Infamy? Hell! Hell, and all the Fires of Lust possess her! when she’s so old and leud, all Mankind shun her.--I’ll be a Coward in my own dire Revenge, and use no manly Mercy.--But oh, I faint, I faint with Rage and Love, which like two meeting Tides, swell into Storms.--Bear me a minute to my Couch within.

_Geo._ What have I done! now I repent my Rashness.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II. Draws off, discovers _Mirtilla_ at her Toylet, dress’d.

Enter _Manage_, leading _Olivia_ in as _Endymion_, who falls at
_Mirtilla’s_ Feet, whilst she’s there, sings a Song; she takes him
up.

_Mir._ Rise,--When Lovers are alone they pardon Ceremony.--I sent for you to end the Night with me; say--how shall we employ it?

_Oliv._ I’ll sigh, and gaze upon your lovely Face.

_Mir._ Nothing but sigh, and gaze; we shall grow dull.

_Oliv._ I’ll tell you Tales of Love, and sing you Songs.

_Mir._ Thy Voice, ‘tis true, can charm a thousand ways; but Lovers time their Joys, these for the Day, those for the lovely Night. And when they would be silently in love, have Musick of soft Sighs and gentler Whispers.

_Oliv._ Oh, Love inspires all this--What shall I do? [Aside.

_Mir._ Nay, think not because I sent for you alone, while Night and Silence favour Lovers Stealths, to take advantage of my yielding Heart.

_Oliv._ I wou’d to Heaven she were in earnest now.

A Noise. Enter _Manage_.

_Man._ Oh, hide your Favourite, Madam--do you hear.

_Mir._ A jealous Lover only, comes in such a Storm--Dear, to my Heart, whose Safety is my Life. Submit to be conceal’d--but where--Oh Heavens, he comes--’Tis for you I fear-- [They search for a place.

_Man._ He comes--

_Mir._ Here, let my Train secure you--Till now I never found the right Use of long Trains and Farthingals. [She kneels, _Man._ puts her Train over _Olivia_.

Enter _Prince_ and _George_, at the Door.

_Geo._ ‘Sdeath, you have made these Pauses and Alarms to give her time to jilt you.

_Prince._ Pray Heaven she do--I’d not be undeceiv’d for all the Sun surveys. [Enters.

_Mir._ My Lord the Prince! now you are kind indeed.
[Goes and embraces him.
--hah! what means this Unconcern?

_Prince._ I thought I’ad left you sick, extremely sick.

_Mir._ And are you griev’d to find my Health return?

_Prince._ No, wondrous glad of it. You’re mighty gay, _Mirtilla_, much in Glory.

_Mir._ Can he, who lays his Fortune at my Feet, think me too glorious for his Arms and Eyes?

_Geo._ Fifty to one the Gipsy jilts him yet. [Aside.

_Prince._ Pray Heaven she lyes but handsomly-- [Aside.
--for mine, _Mirtilla_! Ha--ha--

_Mir._ Am I not yours? You cannot doubt my Vows.

_Geo._ She’ll do’t, and make me love her anew for her rare dexterity at dissembling.

_Prince._ I left you wearied, going to your Bed, but find you at your Toylet gayly dress’d, as if some Conquest you design’d e’er morning.

_Mir._ _Manage_, Sir, from the Fire, secur’d these Trifles, and I was trying several Dresses on; that this slight Beauty that you say has charm’d you, might, when you saw it next, complete the Conquest.

_Geo._ And that thou wilt, if Flattery can do’t.

_Prince._ Now, were she guilty, as I’m sure she’s not, this Softness would undo me, and appease me.

_Mir._ You seem as if you doubted what I say.
[This while, _Olivia_ gets off unseen.
By all the Powers--

_Prince._ Hold, I scorn to need an Oath to fix my Faith; Oh! thou art all divine, and canst not err. [Embraces her. Curs’d be the Tongue that dares profane thy Virtue, and curs’d the listning Fool that dares believe it.

_Geo._ What a poor, wretched, baffled thing is Man, by feebler Woman aw’d and made a Coxcomb!

_Mir._ Durst any one traduce my Virtue, Sir, and is it possible that you could hear it?--Then perish all the Beauties you have flatter’d. [Tears her Head-things.

_Prince._ Come to my Arms, thou Charmer of my Soul! and if one spark of Jealousy remain, one of those precious Tears shall quench the Crime--Oh, come, and let me lead thee to thy Bed, and breathe new Vows into thy panting Bosom. [Leads her off, she looks back on _George_ and smiles.

_Geo._ Now all the Plagues of injur’d Lovers wreck thee; ‘Sdeath, where has she hid _Olivia_? or how am I deceiv’d?--’Tis Day, and with it new Invention rise to damn this Woman to the sin of Shame; break all the Chains that hold the princely Youth, and sink her with her fancy’d Power and Vanity. [Exit.

SCENE III. Changes to Lady _Youthly’s_.

Enter Sir _Rowland_ half dress’d, Lady _Blunder_ in an Undress,
Lady _Youthly_ in her morning-dress, _Teresia_ and Mr. _Twang_.

Sir _Row._ Morrow, my Lady _Youthly_, and thank you for my Night’s Lodging--You are as early up as if it had been your Wedding-day.

L. _Youth._ Truly, Sir _Rowland_, that I intend.

Sir _Row._ But where’s the Bride-groom, Madam?

Enter _Roger_.

How now, _Roger_, what, no news yet of _George_?

_Rog._ Alas! none, Sir, none, till the Rubbish be removed.

Sir _Row._ Rubbish--What--what, is _George_ become the Rubbish of the World then? [Weeps.

_Twang._ Why, Man is but Dust, as a Man may say, Sir.

L. _Blun._ But are you sure, _Roger_, my Jewel, my Sir _Moggy_ escap’d?

_Rog._ The Watch drew him out of the Cellar-window, Madam.

L. _Youth._ How, Mr. _Twang_, the young Gentleman burnt--Oh--
[Falls in a Chair.

_Ter._ Alas! my Grandmother faints with your ill News.--Good Sir _Rowland_, comfort her, and dry your Eyes.

Sir _Row._ Burnt, Madam! No, no, only the House fell on him, or so--
[Feigns Chearfulness, and speaks to Lady _Youthly_.

L. _Youth._ How! the House fell on him--Oh!

Sir _Row._ Ah, Madam, that’s all; why, the young Rogue has a Back like an Elephant--’twill bear a Castle, Madam.

L. _Youth._ Alas, good Man: What a Mercy ‘tis, Mr. _Twang_, to have a Back like an Elephant!

L. _Blun._ Of what wonderful Use it is upon occasion--

Sir _Row._ Ay--but--but I shall never see him more, Back nor Breast.
[Weeps.

_Twang._ Good Sir, discomfort not my Lady--Consider Man’s a Flower--

Sir _Row._ Ay, but _George_ was such a Flower! He was, Mr. _Twang_, he was the very Pink of Prentices. Ah! what a rare rampant Lord Mayor he wou’d have made! And what a swinging Sheriff-- [Cries.

_Ter._ What, cry, so near your Wedding-day, Sir Rowland?

Sir _Row._ Well, if he be gone--Peace be with him: and, ‘Ifaks, Sweet-heart, we’ll marry, and beget new Sons and Daughters--but--but I shall ne’er beget another _George_. [Cries.

_Ter._ This is but a Scurvy Tune for your hymenical Song, Sir.

Sir _Row._ Alas! Mrs. _Teresia_, my Instrument is untun’d, and good for nothing now but to be hung upon the Willows.

_Cry within._ Murder, Murder, Murder!

Enter Footman. Sir _Merlin_ with his Sword drawn, and Sir
_Morgan_.

Sir _Row._ What’s here, my Rogue?

_Twang._ What’s the matter, Gentlemen, that ye enter the House in this hostile manner?

Sir _Morg._ What, Mr. _Twang_, de see!

Sir _Mer._ Ay, ay--stand by Divinity--and know, that we, the Pillars of the Nation, are come, de see--to ravish.

L. _Blun._ Oh, my dear Sir Morgan. [Embraces him.

Sir _Morg._ I do not intend to ravish, like a _Jew_, in my own Tribe--

L. _Youth._ What say they, Mr. _Twang_, ravish? Oh, save my Honour--lead me to my Bed-Chamber, where, if they dare venture to come, they come upon their Peril. [_Twang_ leads her out. Sir _Morgan_ goes to _Ter._

Sir _Mer._ Old Fellow, do’st hear? Sir _Pandarus_ of _Troy_, deliver me my _Cressida_, de see, peacefully, or I am resolved to bear her off _Vi & Armis_.

L. _Blun._ Sweet Nephew, retire, we are just upon making your Peace.

Sir _Mer._ Ha--Old Queen _Gwiniver_, without her Ruff on?

[Sir _Merlin_ takes hold of her to bear her off; she cries out:
Sir _Rowland_ draws upon him. As they are going to fight, _George_
enters.

_Geo._ Is there a Man in Nature’s Race so vile, dares lift a guilty Hand against his Father?

Sir _Mer._ Father me no Fathers; I fight for _Teresia_, my lawfully begotten Spouse.

_Geo._ That I once called you Brother, saves your Life; therefore resign your Sword here at his reverend Feet.

Sir _Mer._ Sirrah, you lye, Sirrah--

_Geo._ There, drag away this Brute. [Disarms him. To the Footman.

Sir _Mer._ Rogues, Dogs, bring Mrs. _Teresia_ along with you.

_Ter._ Sure this is my fine Fellow--and yet the very same that’s to be married to my Grandmother; nor can that City Habit hide the Gentleman. [_George_ speaks this while with his Father, who embraces him.

Sir _Morg._ Burnt, say you, Mrs. _Teresia_, de see--my Lady _Mirtilla_ burnt! Nay, then, ‘tis time to go to sleep, get sober, and marry again. [Goes out.

Sir _Row._ Enough, my Boy, enough; thou deserv’st my whole Estate, and thou shalt have it, Boy--This day thou shalt marry the Widow, and I her Grand-child. I’ll to my Lawyers, and settle all upon thee instantly. [Goes out.

_Geo._ How, marry to day--Old Gentleman, you must be cozen’d; and, Faith, that goes against my Conscience--Ha, the Fair, the Young _Teresia_ there--When a man’s bent upon Wickedness, the Devil never wants an Opportunity to present him with, that she shou’d be in my way now--Fair Creature, are you resolv’d to be my Mother-in-law?

_Ter._ As sure as you to be my Grandfather, Sir--And see--the News of your being come, has rais’d my Grandmother.

Enter _Lettice_, my Lady’s maid, and Lady _Youthly_.

_Geo._ A Pox upon her, her Ghost had been less frightful.

_Ter._ I cou’d have spar’d her now too; but see she advances as swift as Time.

_Geo._ And as old: What shall I do? I dye to speak with you--

L. _Youth._ Where--where’s this Young Welcome Gentleman--Oh, are you here, Sir-- [She sees him not, but runs upon him. _Lettice_, take _Teresia_, and get you to your Chamber, she has her Trinkets to get ready against the Wedding anon, for we’ll make but one work of both.

_Ter._ Ay, ‘twill save Charges, Madam--

L. _Youth._ Ay, ay, get you gone, Lovers sometimes wou’d be private.

_Geo._ Heark ye--leave me not to her mercy, by Love, if you do, I’ll follow you to your Chamber.

_Ter._ Leave you! No, hang me if I do, till I have told you a piece of my mind, for I find there’s no dallying.

L. _Youth._ Well, Sir, I have finish’d the Great Work.

_Geo._ I wish you had--_Teresia_, once you made me hope you did not hate me.

L. _Youth._ What says he, _Teresia_?

_Ter._ He says, he hopes you do not hate him, Madam.

L. _Youth._ No, by my Troth, Sir; I feel something for you, I have not felt before.

_Geo._ Not these Threescore Years, I dare swear--You have too much Wit, _Teresia_, to have been only pleas’d with the Embroider’d Coat, and Gawdy Plume, when still the man’s the same.

L. _Youth._ What says he, Embroider’d Coat and Plume?

_Ter._ He hopes your Ladyship likes him ne’er the worse, for being without those Fopperies.

L. _Youth._ Marry do I not, I love not this over-finery in a Husband; those Fellows that dress, think so well of themselves, they never mind their Wives.

_Geo._ Are you so dull, _Teresia_, not to see, this Habit was put on, only to get an Opportunity to tell you my Passion?

L. _Youth._ Tell me of his Passion! was it so, alas, good Young Man--Well, well, I’ll defer your Joys no longer, this Night shall make you happy, Mr. _Twang_ shall join us, Sir.

_Geo._ A blessed hearing--You see, Charming Maid, how very short a space there is between this and the hast’ning hour; stand not on Virgin Niceties, but answer me, our time admits of no Consideration.

_Ter._ I have not been this Four and Twenty hours a Lover, to need Considering; as soon as you had my Heart, you had my Consent, and that was the first moment I saw you at the _Basset-Table_.

_Geo._ Ha! at the Basset-Table!

_Ter._ Yes, I was the frank Youth that lent you Money--but no more--your Time and Place.

L. _Youth._ What are you prating to him there?

_Ter._ He doubts your Love, Madam, and I’m confirming it.

L. _Youth._ Alas, good Gentleman!--anon I’ll convince him--for in the Ev’ning, Sir, the Priest shall make us one.

_Geo._ Ah, Madam, I cou’d wish ‘twere not so long defer’d, for sure I love you like a sighing Swain, and as a Proof of it, I have here prepar’d an Emblem of my Love in a Dance of Country Lovers, when Passion is sincere.

L. _Youth._ Good-lack-a-day, indeed you’re so obliging: But pray let us have the Dance. [Dance.

L. _Youth._ Very pretty indeed. Come, good Gentleman, don’t droop, don’t droop; come, hold up your Head--you may be allow’d one kiss beforehand.

_Geo._ [Kisses her.] Oh, what a pestilential Blast was there!
[Aside.

L. _Youth._ Come, come, _Teresia_, come with me.

_Geo._ [to _Teresia_.] I’ll send a Chair to your Back-gate anon, that shall wait you on the Field-side, and bring you whither I shall appoint. Get ready instantly.

_Ter._ And if I fail, may I be eternally damn’d to the Embraces of old Age.

[Exeunt all but _George_.

_Geo._ _Mirtilla_, thus thy Scorn I will out-brave, And let my Father
the kind Cheat forgive;
_If I with dexterous charitable care_
_Ease him of Burdens he wants strength to bear._ [Exit.