I saw in the _Mall_ t'other Night; of Quality she was, I dare
swear, by all that was about her; but such a Shape! a Face! a Wit!
a Mind, as in a moment quite subdu'd my Heart: she had another Lady with
her, whom (dogging her Coach) I found to be a Neighbour of mine, and
Grand-Daughter to the Lady _Youthly_; but who my Conqueror was I never
since could learn.

_Oliv._ 'Slife, _Teresia_, yonder's the handsom Fellow that entertain'd
us with so much Wit, on _Thursday_ last in the _Mall_.

_Ter._ What, when you chang'd your Breeches for Petticoats at my
Lodgings.

_Oliv._ That Night, and ever since, I have felt a sort of a Tendre for
him.

_Ter._ As I do for his Friend--Pray Heav'n he be not marry'd! I fear he
has laid an Imbargo on my Heart, before it puts out of the Port.

_Geo._ Are you not for the Basset?

_Wel._ No, I've business at the Ball to night; besides, my Lady
_Blunder_ has a Quarrel to me for last Night's Debauch; I'll wait on you
in the Morning.
[Exit _Welborn_.

_Geo._ Well, you to your Business, and I to mine.
[Speaks as the rest go out.
Let the dull trading Fool by Business live,
Statesmen by Plots; the Courtier cringe to thrive;
The Fop of Noise and Wealth be cullied on,
And purchase no one Joy by being undone,
Whilst I by nobler careless ways advance,
Since Love and Fortune are acquir'd by Chance.

[Exeunt Omnes.

_The End of the Second Act._

A Song, sung by Sir _Rowland_ in the second Act.

To _TERESIA_.

_Though the Young prize _Cupid's_ Fire,
'Tis more valu'd by the Old;
The Sun's Warmth we now admire,
More than when the Season's cold._

_Dialogues in the Masque, at the beginning of the third Act._

_He._ Time and Place you see conspire,
With tender Wishes, fierce Desire;
See the willing Victim stands
To be offer'd by your Hands:
Ah! Let me on Love's Altars lying,
Clasp my Goddess whilst I'm dying.

_She._ Oh Lord! what hard words, and strange things d'ye say;
Your Eyes too seem closing, and just dying away:
Ah! pray what d'ye want? Explain but your mind,
Which did I but know, perhaps I'd be kind.

_He._ My pretty soft Maid, full of innocent Charms,
I languish to sigh out my Soul in thy Arms;
Oh! then, if I'm lov'd, deny not the Bliss,
But tell me I'm happy, with a ravishing Kiss.

_She._ Oh! Fy, Sir, I vow I cannot endure you;
Be civil, or else I'll cry out I assure you;
I will not be kiss'd so, n