urvy,
out-of-humour'd Husband at Eight and Twenty.

_Geo._ Gad, a thousand times.

_Ter._ Know, I have Five Hundred Pounds a Year.

_Geo._ Good.

_Ter._ And the Devil and all of Expectations from an old Woman.

_Geo._ Very good.

_Ter._ And this Youth, and little Beauty to lay out in love.
[Pulls off her Mask.

_Geo._ _Teresia!_ the lovely Maid design'd for my Mother! now, what a
Dog am I? that gives me the greater Gust to her, and wou'd fain cuckold
my Father.
[Talks to her aside. _Mirtilla_ seems to faint.

_Man._ My Lady faints--help, help.

_Mir._ Only the Heat oppresses me--but let it not disturb the Company,
I'll take the Air a little, and return.
[Goes out with _Manage_.

_Geo._ Is this design'd or real?--perhaps she is retir'd for me--Mrs.
_Manage_.--
[_Manage_ re-enters, he pulls her by the Sleeve.

_Man._ Hah! Monsieur _Lejere_! what shall I feign to put him off withal.
[Aside.

_Geo._ Why dost thou start? How does my dear _Mirtilla_?

_Man._ Reposing, Sir, awhile, but anon I'll wait on her for your
admittance.
[Prince _Frederick_ puts on _Welborn's_ Cloke, goes out, and
_Welborn_ enters into the Company dress'd like the _Prince_.

_Geo._ Ha, she spoke in passing by that gay thing--What means it, but
I'll trace the Mystery.

Sir _Row._ The young People are lazy, and here's nothing but gaping and
peeping in one another's Vizards; come, Madam, let you and I shame 'em
into Action.
[Sir _Rowland_ and Lady _Youthly_ dance. After the Dance, _Olivia_
enters with a Letter, and gives it to _Welborn_.

_Wel._ Ha! what's this, Sir, a Challenge?

_Oliv._ A soft one, Sir.

_Wel._ A Billet--whoever the Lady be, [Reads.
She merits something for but believing I am worth her Mirth.

_Oliv._ I know not, Sir, how great a Jest you may make of it; but I
assure you the Lady is in earnest, and if you be at leisure to hear
Reason from her--

_Wel._ Fair and softly, my dear Love-Messenger, I am for no hasty
Bargains; not but I shou'd be glad to hear Reason from any of the
Sex--But I have been so damnably jilted--Is she of Quality?

_Oliv._ Yes.

_Wel._ Then I'll not hear any thing from her: they are troublesome, and
insolent; and if she have a Husband, to hide her Intrigues she has
recourse to all the little Arts and Cunnings of her Sex; and she that
jilts her Husband, will her Lover.

_Oliv._ She is not troubled with a Husband, Sir.

_Wel._ What, she's part