Sir _Jeal._ Come will you sit down?

_Isab._ I can't eat, Sir.

_Patch._ No, I dare swear he has given her Supper enough. I wish I cou'd get into the Closet-- (_Aside._

Sir _Jeal._ Well, if you can't eat, then give me a Song whilst I do.

_Isab._ I have such a Cold I can scarce speak, Sir, much less sing. How shall I prevent _Charles_ coming in.

(_Aside._

Sir _Jeal._ I hope you have the Use of your Fingers, Madam. Play a Tune upon your _Spinnet_, whilst your Woman sings me a Song.

_Patch._ I'm as much out of Tune as my Lady, if he knew all.

(_Aside._

_Isab._ I shall make excellent Musick. (_Sits down to play._

_Patch._ Really, Sir, I'm so frighted about your opening this Charm, that I can't remember one Song.

Sir _Jeal._ Pish, hang your Charm; come, come, sing any thing.

_Patch._ Yes, I'm likely to sing truly (_aside_) humph, humph, bless me, Sir, I cannot raise my Voice, my Heart pants so.

Sir _Jeal._ Why, what does your Heart pant so that you can't play neither? Pray what Key are you in, ha?

_Patch._ Ah, wou'd the Key was turn'd of you once.

(_Aside._

Sir _Jeal._ Why don't you sing, I say!

_Patch._ When Madam has put her _Spinnet_ in Tune, Sir, humph, humph.--

_Isab._ I cannot play, Sir, whatever ails me.

(_Rising._

Sir _Jeal._ Zounds sit down, and play me a Tune, or I'll break the _Spinnet_ about your Ears.

_Isab._ What will become of me?

(_Sits down and plays._

Sir _Jeal._ Come, Mistress.

(_To_ Patch

_Patch._ Yes, Sir.

(_Sings, but horribly out of Tune._

Sir _Jeal._ Hey, hey, why you are a top of the House, and you are down in the Cellar. What is the meaning of this? Is it on purpose to cross me, ha?

_Patch._ Pray Madam, take it a little lower, I cannot reach that Note--nor any Note I fear.

_Isab._ Well, begin--Oh! _Patch_ we shall be discover'd.

_Patch._ I sink with the Apprehension, Madam,--humph, humph-- (_Sings_)

(__Charles_ pulls open the Closet Door._

_Char._ Musick and Singing _'Tis thus the bright Coelestial Court above,_ _Beguiles the Hours with Musick and with Love._ Death! her Father there, (_The Women shriek_) then I must fly-- (_Exit into the Closet_)

(_Sir _Jealous_ rises up hastily, seeing _Charles_ slip back into the Closet._

Sir _Jeal._ h.e.l.l and Furies, a Man in the Closet--

_Patch._ Ah! a Ghost, a Ghost--he must not enter the Closet-- (Isabinda _throws her self down before the Closet-door as in a Sound._

Sir _Jeal._ The Devil! I'll make a Ghost of him I warrant you.

(_Strives to get by._

_Patch._ Oh hold, Sir, have a care, you'l tread upon my Lady-- who waits there? Bring some Water: Oh! this comes of your opening the Charm: Oh, oh, oh, oh.

(_Weeps aloud._

Sir _Jeal._ I'll Charm you, House-wife, here lies the Charm, that conjur'd this Fellow in I'm sure on't, come out you Rascal, do so: Zounds take her from the Door, or I'll spurn her from it, and break your Neck down Stairs.

_Isab._ Oh, oh, where am I--He's gone, I heard him leap down.

(_Aside to _Patch_._

_Patch._ Nay, then let him enter--here, here Madam, smell to this; come give me your Hand; come nearer to the Window, the Air will do you good.

Sir _Jeal._ I wou'd she were in her Grave. Where are you, Sirrah, Villain, Robber of my Honour; I'll pull you out of your Nest.

(_Goes into the Closet._

_Patch._ You'l be mistaken, old Gentleman, the Bird is flown.

_Isab._ I'm glad I have 'scap'd so well. I was almost dead in earnest with the Fright.

_Re-enter Sir _Jealous_ out of the Closet._

Sir _Jeal._ Whoever the Dog were he has escap'd out of the Window, for the Sash is up. But tho' he is got out of my Reach, you are not: And first Mrs. _Pandor_, with your Charms for Tooth-ach, get out of my House, go, troop; yet hold, stay, I'll see you out of my Doors my self, but I'll secure your Charge e'er I go.

_Isab._ What do you mean, Sir? Was she not a Creature of your own providing?

Sir _Jeal._ She was of the Devil's providing for ought I know.

_Patch._ What have I done, Sir to merit your Displeasure?

Sir _Jeal._ I don't know which of you have done it; but you shall both suffer for it, till I can discover whose Guilt it is: Go get in there, I'll move you from this side of the House (_Pushes _Isabinda_ in at the other Door, and locks it; puts the Key in his Pocket._) I'll keep the Key my self: I'll try what Ghost will get into that Room. And now forsooth I'll wait on you down Stairs.

_Patch._ Ah, my poor Lady--Down Stairs, Sir, but I won't go out, Sir, till I have look'd up my Cloaths.