xchange our Souls, and every Look
fades all my blooming Honour, like Sun-beams on unguarded Roses--Take
all our Kingdoms --make our People Slaves, and let me fall beneath your
conquering Sword: but never let me hear you talk again, or gaze upon
your Eyes.--
[Goes out.

_Bac._ She loves! by Heaven, she loves! and has not Art enough to hide
her Flame, though she have cruel Honour to suppress it. However, I'll
pursue her to the Banquet.
[Exit.

SCENE II. The Widow _Ranter's_ Hall.

Enter _Surelove_ fan'd by two Negroes, followed by _Hazard_.

_Sure._ This Madam _Ranter_ is so prodigious a Treater --oh! I hate a
Room that smells of a great Dinner, and what's worse, a desert of Punch
and Tobacco--what! are you taking leave so soon, Cousin?

_Haz._ Yes, Madam, but 'tis not fit I should let you know with what
regret I go,--but Business will be obey'd.

_Sure._ Some Letters to dispatch to _English_ Ladies you have left
behind--come, Cousin, confess.

_Haz._ I own I much admire the _English_ Beauties but never yet have put
their Fetters on.

_Sure._ Never in love! oh, then you have pleasure to come.

_Haz._ Rather a Pain when there's no Hope attends it.

_Sure._ Oh, such Diseases quickly cure themselves.

_Haz._ I do not wish to find it so; for even in Pain I find a Pleasure
too.

_Sure._ You are infected then, and come abroad for Cure.

_Haz._ Rather to receive my Wounds, Madam.

_Sure._ Already, Sir,--whoe'er she be, she made good haste to conquer,
we have few here boast that Dexterity.

_Haz._ What think you of _Chrisante_, Madam?

_Sure._ I must confess your Love and your Despair are there plac'd
right, of which I am not fond of being made a Confident, since I am
assur'd she can love none but _Friendly_.
[Coldly.

_Haz._ Let her love on as long as Life shall last, let _Friendly_ take
her, and the Universe, so I had my next wish--
[Sighs.
Madam, it is yourself that I adore--I should not be so vain to tell
you this, but that I know you have found the Secret out already from my
Sighs.

_Sure._ Forbear, Sir, and know me for your Kinsman's Wife, and no more.

_Haz._ Be scornful as you please, rail at my Passion, and refuse to hear
it; yet I'll love on, and hope in spite of you; my Flame shall be so
constant and submissive, it shall compel your Heart to some return.

_Sure._ You're very confident of your Power, I perceive; but if you
chance to find yourself mistaken, say your Op