SCENE, a Hall.
Where's this plaguy Governor? I must have him with me, because 'tis about the King's Business; tho' I hate him for breaking• our Spanish Customs, in letting his Jilting Wife have such Liberty. — Ha! here she comes, — and a Spark with her; — I'll abscond, and see how virtu∣ously she carries her self.
I dare not stay, — my Husband thinks I am gone into my Chamber; if by any chance he should come this way, all our Hopes are ruin'd.
Were he by, I'd seal my Vows upon thy melting Lips —Oh! receive my Heart; it flutters near thee, and struggles for passage.
I am cover'd o'er with Blushes!
My Life! can't ye contrive some way to bless me? Your Sex were ever most ingenious lucky at Invention.
Suppose you pretended a Quarrel in England, — for which you were pursu'd, and begg'd Leave to hide here. — If you were in the House, I might get an Opportunity to vi∣sit ye, — But sure you would not be such a naughty man to ruine me, if I did.
Not for the World!
I wou'd fain love ye, and preserve my Honour.
That is preserv'd whilst 'tis conceal'd: The Roses in your Cheeks will only wear a fresher Die, — and those dear Eyes are no Tell-tales, Love will make 'em shine and sparkle more. — I'll put your Advice in execution.
I must not venture on another moment. —Farewell.
Farewell, my Blessing.
Oh Women! Women! Women! —They are Cro∣codiles, they are painted Serpents, gilded Toys, disguis'd Fiends, —But why name I these? They are Women— Just such another is my Damsel of Darkness; if Fortune wou'd but throw a handsom Fellow in her way. — Here comes the Governor, singing, I warrant ye,— poor Credulous Fool, —I cannot but laugh — ha, ha, he!
—Hey da! I am glad to find you so merry. 'Tis as great a wonder to see you laugh, as 'twou'd be to see me cry — And that I han't done these Fifty Years, old Boy.
My Lord, which is best, for a mans Wife to Cuckold him in Imagination or Reality?
Lord! Lord! your Head is always upon Cuckolding, All the Cuckolds may be hang'd, for what I care.
Oh fie, no! Hanging wou'd be a scurvy Death for a man of your Quality.
Why — what d'ye mean by that, now, ha? —Don't provoke me, I say — do not — I shall make old ToledoPage 17 walk if you do, for all 'tis in my own House.
I must not tell him now,— It will put him so out of Humor, he won't go with me, — 'Twas only a Jest, my Lord, — I wou'd beg the Honour of your Company to the Duke of Sidonia's.
With all my Heart — come, come: