scover whose Guilt it is: Go get in there,
I'll move you from this side of the House (_Pushes _Isabinda_ in at the
other Door, and locks it; puts the Key in his Pocket._) I'll keep the
Key my self: I'll try what Ghost will get into that Room. And now
forsooth I'll wait on you down Stairs.

_Patch._ Ah, my poor Lady--Down Stairs, Sir, but I won't go out, Sir,
till I have look'd up my Cloaths.

Sir _Jeal._ If thou wer't as naked as thou wer't born, thou should'st
not stay to put on a Smock. Come along, I say, when your Mistress is
marry'd you shall have your Rags, and every thing that belongs to you;
but till then--
(_Exit, pulling her out._

_Patch._ Oh! barbarous Usage for nothing.

_Re-enter at the lower Door._

Sir _Jeal._ There, go, and, come no more within sight of my Habitation,
these three Days, I charge you.
(_Slaps the Door after her._

_Patch._ Did ever any Body see such an old Monster!

_Enter _Charles_._

_Patch._ Oh! Mr. _Charles_ your Affairs and mine are in an ill Posture.

_Char._ I am immur'd to the Frowns of Fortune: But what has befal'n
thee?

_Patch._ Sir _Jealous_, whose suspicious Nature's always on the Watch;
nay, even whilst one Eye sleeps, the other keeps Sentinel: Upon sight of
you, flew into such a violent Passion, that I cou'd find no Stratagem to
appease him, but in spight of all Arguments, lock'd his Daughter into
his own Apartment, and turn'd me out of Doors.

_Char._ Ha! oh, _Isabinda_.

_Patch._ And swears she shall neither see Sun nor Moon, till she is _Don
Diego Babinetto_'s Wife, who arrived last Night, and is expected with
impatience.

_Char._ He dies, yes, by all the Wrongs of Love he shall; here will I
plant my self, and thro' my Breast he shall make his Passage, if he
enters.

_Patch._ A most heroick Resolution. There might be ways found out more
to your Advantage. Policy is often preferr'd to open force.

_Char._ I apprehend you not.

_Patch._ What think you of personating this _Spaniard_, imposing upon
the Father, and marrying your Mistress by his own Consent.

_Char._ Say'st thou so my Angel! Oh cou'd that be done, my Life to come
wou'd be too short to recompence thee: But how can I do that, when I
neither know what Ship he came in, nor from what part of _Spain_; who
recommends him, nor how attended.

_Patch._ I can solve all this. He is from _Madrid_, his Father's Name
_Don Pedro Questo Portento Babinetto_. Here's a Letter of his to Sir
_Je