_Sir H._ Love you! Does fire ascend? Do hypocrites dissemble? Usurers love gold, or great men flattery? Doubt these, then question that I love.

_Ang._ This shows your gallantry, sir, but not your love.

_Sir H._ View your own charms, madam, then judge my pa.s.sion.

_Ang._ If your words be real, 'tis in your power to raise an equal flame in me.

_Sir H._ Nay, then, I seize----

_Ang._ Hold, sir; 'tis also possible to make me detest and scorn you worse than the most profligate of your deceiving s.e.x.

_Sir H._ Ha! a very odd turn this. I hope, madam, you only affect anger, because you know your frowns are becoming.

_Ang._ Sir Harry, you being the best judge of your own designs, can best understand whether my anger should be real or dissembled; think what strict modesty should bear, then judge of my resentment.

_Sir H._ Strict modesty should bear! Why, 'faith, madam, I believe, the strictest modesty may bear fifty guineas, and I don't believe 'twill bear one farthing more.

_Ang._ What d'ye mean, sir?

_Sir H._ Nay, madam, what do you mean? If you go to that. I think now, fifty guineas is a fine offer for your strict modesty, as you call it.

_Ang._ I'm afraid you're mad, sir.

_Sir H._ Why, madam, you're enough to make any man mad. 'Sdeath, are you not a----

_Ang._ What, sir?

_Sir H._ Why, a lady of--strict modesty, if you will have it so.

_Ang._ I shall never hereafter trust common report, which represented you, sir, a man of honour, wit, and breeding; for I find you very deficient in them all three. [_Exit._

_Sir H._ Now I find, that the strict pretences, which the ladies of pleasure make to strict modesty, is the reason why those of quality are ashamed to wear it.

_Enter_ VIZARD.

_Vizard._ Ah! Sir Harry, have I caught you? Well, and what success?

_Sir H._ Success! 'Tis a shame for you young fellows in town here, to let the wenches grow so saucy. I offered her fifty guineas, and she was in her airs presently, and flew away in a huff. I could have had a brace of countesses in Paris for half the money, and _je vous remercie_ into the bargain.

_Vizard._ Gone in her airs, say you! and did not you follow her?

_Sir H._ Whither should I follow her?

_Vizard._ Into her bedchamber, man; she went on purpose. You a man of gallantry, and not understand that a lady's best pleased when she puts on her airs, as you call it!

_Sir H._ She talked to me of strict modesty, and stuff.

_Vizard._ Certainly. Most women magnify their modesty, for the same reason that cowards boast their courage--because they have least on't.

Come, come, Sir Harry, when you make your next a.s.sault, encourage your spirits with brisk Burgundy: if you succeed, 'tis well; if not, you have a fair excuse for your rudeness. I'll go in, and make your peace for what's past. Oh, I had almost forgot----Colonel Standard wants to speak with you about some business.

_Sir H._ I'll wait upon him presently; d'ye know where he may be found?

_Vizard._ In the piazza of Covent Garden, about an hour hence, I promised to see him: and there you may meet him--to have your throat cut. [_Aside._] I'll go in and intercede for you.

_Sir H._ But no foul play with the lady, Vizard. [_Exit._

_Vizard._ No fair play, I can a.s.sure you. [_Exit._

SCENE III.

_The Street before_ LADY LUREWELL'S _Lodgings_.

CLINCHER SENIOR, _and_ LUREWELL, _coquetting in the Balcony_.--_Enter_ STANDARD.

_Colonel S._ How weak is reason in disputes of love! I've heard her falsehood with such pressing proofs, that I no longer should distrust it. Yet still my love would baffle demonstration, and make impossibilities seem probable. [_Looks up._] Ha! That fool too! What, stoop so low as that animal?--'Tis true, women once fallen, like cowards in despair, will stick at nothing; there's no medium in their actions.

They must be bright as angels, or black as fiends. But now for my revenge; I'll kick her cully before her face, call her wh.o.r.e, curse the whole s.e.x, and leave her. [_Goes in._

SCENE IV.

_A Dining Room._

_Enter_ LADY LUREWELL _and_ CLINCHER SENIOR.

_Lady L._ Oh lord, sir, it is my husband! What will become of you?

_Clinch. sen._ Ah, your husband! Oh, I shall be murdered! What shall I do? Where shall I run? I'll creep into an oven--I'll climb up the chimney--I'll fly--I'll swim;----I wish to the lord I were at the Jubilee now.

_Lady L._ Can't you think of any thing, sir?

_Clinch. sen._ Think! not I; I never could think to any purpose in my life.

_Lady L._ What do you want, sir?

_Enter_ TOM ERRAND.

_Tom._ Madam, I am looking for Sir Harry Wildair; I saw him come in here this morning; and did imagine he might be here still, if he is not gone.

_Lady L._ A lucky hit! Here, friend, change clothes with this gentleman, quickly, strip.

_Clinch. sen._ Ay, ay, quickly strip; I'll give you half a crown to boot. Come here; so. [_They change Clothes._

_Lady L._ Now slip you [_To_ CLINCH. SENIOR.] down stairs, and wait at the door till my husband be gone; and get you in there [_To_ TOM ERRAND.] till I call you. [_Puts_ ERRAND _in the next Room_.

_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD.