y Dear, for the future, leave out that same Profit and
Present, for I have a natural Aversion to hard words; and for matter of
quick Dispatch in the Business-- give me thy Hand, Child-- let us but
start fair, and if thou outstripst me, thou'rt a nimble Racer.
[_Lucia_ sees _Shift_.

_Luc._ Oh, Madam, let's be gone: yonder's Lieutenant Shift, who, if he
sees us, will certainly give an Account of it to Mr. Beaumond. Let's get
in thro the Garden, I have the Key.

_Aria._ Here's Company coming, and for several reasons I would not be
seen.
[Offers to go.

_Will._ Gad, Child, nor I; Reputation is tender-- therefore prithee
let's retire.
[Offers to go with her.

_Aria._ You must not stir a step.

_Will._ Not stir! no Magick Circle can detain me if you go.

_Aria._ Follow me then at a distance, and observe where I enter; and at
night (if your Passion lasts so long) return, and you shall find
Admittance into the Garden.
[Speaking hastily.
[He runs out after her.

Enter _Shift_.

_Shift._ Well, Sir, the Mountebank's come, and just going to begin in
the Piazza; I have order'd Matters, that you shall have a Sight of the
Monsters, and leave to court 'em, and when won, to give the Guardian a
fourth part of the Portions.

_Blunt._ Good: But Mum-- here's the Captain, who must by no means know
our good Fortune, till he see us in State.

Enter _Willmore_, _Shift_ goes to him.

_Shift._ All things are ready, Sir, for our Design, the House prepar'd
as you directed me, the Guardian wrought upon by the Persuasions of the
two Monsters, to take a Lodging there, and try the Bath of Reformation:
The Bank's preparing, and the Operators and Musick all ready, and the
impatient Town flockt together to behold the Man of Wonders, and nothing
wanting but your Donship and a proper Speech.

_Will._ 'Tis well, I'll go fit my self with a Dress, and think of a
Speech the while: In the mean time, go you and amuse the gaping Fools
that expect my coming.
[Goes out.

Enter _Fetherfool_ singing and dancing.

Feth. _Have you heard of a _Spanish_ Lady,
How she woo'd an _English_ Man?_

_Blunt._ Why, how now, Fetherfool?

Feth. _Garments gay, and rich as may be,
Deckt with Jewels, had she on._

_Blunt._ Why, how now, Justice, what run mad out of Dog-days?

Feth. _Of a comely Countenance and Grace is she,
A sweeter Creature in the World there could not be._

_Shift._ Why, what the Devil's