_Geo._ I do believe you; but your dangerous Frolicks will make the World
talk shamefully.

_Oliv._ Let him talk on, I will not humour Fools.

_Geo._ No more--here's _Manage_--Contrive an Assignation with
_Mirtilla_; but do not hide again where none may find you. This done,
I'll tell you more, and make you happy. How now, _Manage_, is the Prince
stirring?

_Man._ He's in his Dressing-Room, Sir.--This from my Lady, Sir.
[Slides the Letter into _Olivia's_ Hand as she passes out.

_Geo._ What have you there, Olivia? [Takes the Billet.

_Oliv._ An Assignation from your perjur'd Mistress, Sir.

_Geo._ 'Tis well--you must obey the Summons; and wind her up to all the
height of Love; then let her loose to Shame. I'll bring her Lover in the
height of Dalliance, who, when he sees her Perfidy, will hate her.

_Oliv._ And then the lovely Man stands fair for me. [Aside.

_Geo._ Go write an Answer back--and wait her hour.

[Exeunt severally.

SCENE II. _The Dressing-Room. Discovers the _Prince_ at his Toylet,
dressing. Musick and a Song._

Enter _George_, waits till the Song is ended. The _Prince_ sees
him, comes to him with Joy, and falls about his Neck.

SONG, by Mr. _Gildon_.

I.

_Ah _Charmion!_ shroud those killing Eyes,
That dart th' extremes of Pleasure,
Else _Celidon_, though favour'd, dies
As well as him that you despise,
Though with this diff'rent measure:
While lingring Pains drag on his Fate, }
Dispatch is all th' Advantage of my State; }
For ah! you hill with Love, as well as Hate._ }

II.

_Abate thy Luxury of Charms,
And only Part discover;
Your Tongue, as well as Eyes, has Arms
To give a Thousand fatal Harms
To the poor listening Lover:
Thy Beams, like Glorys veil'd shou'd be,
And like the Front of Heav'n, unseen, pass by;
For to behold 'em, in full force, we die._

_Prince._ _Mirtilla_, O! I faint, I die with thy Beauty's Luxury! by
Heaven, I'm all Rapture, Love, and Joy: Such a dear Night,
_Lejere_!--Poets may fancy pressing Goddesses, on downy Beds of
Clouds--But oh, _Lejere_!--Those Gods were never half so blest as I!

_Geo._ What pity 'twere to wake you from this Dream.

_Prince._ It is not in the power of Time nor Age: For even then
_Mirtilla_ will have Charms! Oh, how she speaks! how well she'll grace a
Story!

_Geo._ How gay her Wit! how movingly she writes!

_Prince._ I do believe she does. [A litt