_Mr._ Awdwell _meeting her_.

Mr. _Awd._ How!

_Mar._ And how too! why, look ye, Mr. _Awdwell_, my Lord is come to pay his Respects to me; and I will pay my Respects again to my Lord, in spight of your Tyrannical Pretensions. And so, your humble Servant.

(_Exit_

Mr. Awd. _Who wou'd a kind and certain Mistress choose, Let him, like me, take one that loves a Muse._

(Exit.

_The End of the Second_ ACT.

ACT III.

_Enter my Lord_ Whiffle, Marsilia, _Mr._ Awdwell, _Mr._ Praisall, _Mrs._ Wellfed _and_ Calista.

Mrs. _Well._ For my part I am quite tir'd, and have a great mind to steal home to Dinner; will you please to go with me, Madam?

_Cal._ With all my Heart: _Marsilia_'s so taken up with my Lord, they'll never miss us.

Mrs. _Well._ Come then. (_Exeunt._

[Marsilia _and my Lord_ Whiffle _talk, both looking in a great Gla.s.s_.

_Mar._ Thus I have told your Lordship the First part, which is past.

L. _Whif._ I conceive you, Madam, I have the whole Story in a Corner of my head intire, where no other Thought shall presume to interpose.

Confound me, if my d.a.m.n'd Barber has not made me look like a Mountebank: This Wigg I shall never endure, that's certain.

_Mar._ Now I must beg your Lordship to suppose _Fastin_ having seen his Mother-in-Law, is wholly captivated with her Charms, and _Betty_ and she have both foresworn the Consummation of her Marriage with _Fastin's_ Father; so he takes her to an adjacent Castle of his; she having cast the old Philosopher in a deep sleep. I'm forc't to tell your Lordship this, because the Play does not mention it.

Mr. _Awd._ I am afraid your Ladyship will be wanted, like the _Chorus_ of Old, to enlighten the understanding of the Audience.

_Mar._ Meer Malice, Spight, and burning Malice, by the G.o.ds!

L. _Whiff._ Very good, my Coat is as full of wrinkles as an Old Woman's Face, by _Jove_.

Mr. _Prais._ Madam, han't they took _Betty_ with 'em to his Castle?

_Mar._ Yes, yes; But, Mr. _Praisall_, you must keep your Distance a little now, and not interrupt me, when I am talking to my Lord.

Mr. _Prais._ I am dumb as a fish.

_Mar._ Now, if your Lordship pleases to sit down, you will see my _Opera_ begin; for tho' some of the Play is over, there has been no Scene Operaish yet.

Mr. _Awd._ Operaish! Thats' a word of your own, I suppose, Madam.

Mr. _Prais._ Ne're the worse for that, I hope, Sir; why mayn't the Ladies make a word as well as the Men?

L. _Whiff._ The Lady shall make what words she pleases; and I will justifie her in't.

Mr. _Awd._ And I will laugh at her for it.

_Mar._ Well, Mr. _Awdwell_, these Affronts, are not so soon forgot as given.

Mr. _Awd._ Use your Pleasure, Madam, the Fool's almost weary.

_Mar._ He nettles me; but I think I have him in my power: Is your Lordship ready to observe?

L. _Whiff._ Madam, I am all Attention.

_Mar._ Come, the Night Scene there, a Dark Grove made Glorious by a Thousand burning Lights: By Heav'ns my words run of themselves into Heroick! Now Let em' enter.

_Enter_ Fastin, _Lady_ Loveall.

_Fast._ Cou'd Age expect to hold thee! Oh thou Heav'nly Charmer! was there such an Impudence in Impotence; if the old Dotard has liv'd past his Reason, he must be taught it; yes, it shall dazle in his Eyes.

Mr. _Awd._ A very Dutiful Son, this.

_Mar._ Sir, I desire your Absence, if you won't let the Players go on: His Father has done a very foolish thing; and must be call'd to an account for it.

L. _Whif._ Right Madam; all old Men do foolish things when they marry young Wives, and ought to meet with exemplary Punishments.

_Mar._ Aye, your Lordship understands the Justice of the thing----Mrs.

_Knight_, if you please.

La. _Lov._ Whilst my Ears devour your protested Love, my Heart dances to the Musick of your Vows. But is there no Falshood in a Form so lovely!

if there is, these Eyes that let the Object in, must weep for ever!

_Fast._ By Honour and by Glory, I love thee more than Mortal can express or bear.

_Mar._ Now, Mr. _Powel_, my Rhime with a Boon Grace.

Fast. _My scorching Raptures make a Boy of Jove; That ramping G.o.d shall learn of me to love._

_Mar._ How does your Lordship like these Lines_?_

L. _Whiff._ Madam, they exceed any of our modern Flights, as far as a Description of _Homer_'s does Mr. _Settle_'s, Poet in Ordinary for my Lord Mayor's Show.

Mr. _Prais._ After what my Lord has said, I dare not speak, but I am all Admiration,

_Mar._ to Mrs. _Knight_.) Madam I beg your pardon for this Interruption; my Friends here will treat me with Flattery.