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COme one Dance more, and then I think we shall have sufficiently teaz'd the Alderman, and 'twill be time to part.—Sir Credulous, where's your Mistress?
Within a mile of an Oak, dear Madam, I'le warrant you,— well, I protest and vow, sweet Lady, you dance most
Nobly, — Why, you Dance— like — like a — like a Hasty Pudding before Iove.
SONG Made by a Gent.
SItting by yonder River Side Parthenia thus to Cloe cry'd, Whil'st from the fair Nymphs Eyes apace Another Stream o'reflow'd her Beautious Face. Ah happy Nymph, said she, that can So little value that false Creature man.Oft the persidious things will cry, Alass they burn, they bleed, they dye; But if they're absent half a day, Nay, let 'em be but one poor hour away, No more they dye, no more complain, But like unconstant wretches live again.
Well, have you consider'd of that business yet Isabella?
What business?
Of giving me admittance to night.
And may I trust your honesty?
Oh doubt me not, my Mother's resolv'd it shall be a match between you and I, and that very consideration will se∣cure thee, besides who wou'd first sully the Linnen they mean to put on?
Away here's my Mother.
Madam I beg your pardon for my absence, the effects of my Obedience, not Will; but Sir Patient is taken very Ill o'th' suddain, and I must humbly intreat your Ladiship to re∣tire, for rest is onely essential to his recovery.
Congruously spoken upon my Honour. Oh the im∣pudence of this Fellow your Ladyships Husband, to espouse so fair a person only to make a Nurse of!
Alas Madam!—
A slave, a very houshold Drudg, — Oh faugh, come, never grieve, — for Madam, his Disease is nothing but imagination, a Melancholy which arises from the Liver, Spleen, and Membrane call'd Mesenterium, the Arabians name the distem∣per Myrathial, and we here in England Hypochondriacal Melan∣choly; I cou'd prescribe a most potent Remedy, but that I am loth to stir the envy of the College.
Really Madam I believe, —
But as you say Madam, we'l leave him to his repose, pray do not grieve too much.
Death, wou'd I had the consoleing her, 'tis a charming Woman!
Mr. Fancy your hand; Madam your most faithful Servant, — Lucretia, come Lucretia — your Servant Ladies and Gentlemen. —
A Devil on her, wou'd the nimbleness of her Lady∣ships Tongue were in her Heels, she wou'd make more hast away▪ oh I long for the blest minute. —
Isabella, shall I find admittance anon?
On fair conditions.
Trust my Generosity,— Madam your Slave. —
Madam, I wou'd say something of your Charms and Celestial Graces, but that all praises are as far below you, as the Moon in her Opposition is below the Sun,—and so Luscious Lady, I am yours, — now for my Serenade, —
Maundy, have you commanded all the Servants to Bed?
Yes Madam, not a Mouse shall stir, and I have made ready the Chamber next the Garden for your Ladyship.
Then there needs no more but that you wait for Wittmore's coming to the Garden Gate, and take care no lights be in the House for fear of Eyes.
Madam I understand Lovers are best by dark, and shall be diligent, the Doctor has secur'd Sir Patient by a sleeping Pill, and you are onely to expect your approaching happiness.