must not leave us, we want a third
Person.
(_Takes hold of him._

_Marpl._ I never had more mind to be gone in my Life.

_Miran._ Come along then; if we fail in the Voyage, thank your self for
taking this ill starr'd Gentleman on Board.

_Sir_ Geo.
_That Vessel ne'er can Unsuccessful prove,_
_Whose Freight is Beauty, and whose Pilot Love._

The End of the Fourth ACT.

ACT the Fifth.

_Enter _Miranda_, _Patch_, and _Scentwell_._

_Miran._ Well, _Patch_, I have done a strange bold thing! my Fate is
determin'd, and Expectation is no more. Now to avoid the Impertinence
and Roguery of an old Man, I have thrown my self into the Extravagance
of a young one; if he shou'd despise, slight or use me ill, there's no
Remedy from a Husband, but the Grave; and that's a terrible Sanctuary to
one of my Age and Constitution.

_Patch._ O fear not, Madam, you'll find your account in Sir _George
Airy_; it is impossible a Man of Sense shou'd use a Woman ill, indued
with Beauty, Wit and Fortune. It must be the Lady's fault, if she does
not wear the unfashionable Name of Wife easie, when nothing but
Complaisance and good Humour is requisite on either side to make them
happy.

_Miran._ I long till I am out of this House, lest any Accident shou'd
bring my _Guardian_ back. _Scentwell_, put my best Jewels into the
little Casket, slip them, into thy Pocket, and let us march off to Sir.
_Jealous_'s.

_Scentw._ It shall be done, Madam.
(_Exit_ Scentwell.

_Patch._ Sir _George_ will be impatient, Madam; if their Plot succeeds,
we shall be well receiv'd; if not, he will be able to protect us.
Besides, I long to know how my young Lady fares.

_Miran._ Farewell, old _Mammon_, and thy detested Walls; 'twill be no
more sweet Sir _Francis_, I shall be compell'd to the odious Task of
Dissembling no longer to get my own, and coax him with the wheedling
Names of my _Precious_, my _Dear_, dear _Gardee_. Oh Heavens!

_Enter Sir _Francis_ behind._

Sir _Fran._ Ah, my sweet _Chargee_, don't be frighted. (_She starts._)
But thy poor _Gardee_ has been abused, cheated, fool'd, betray'd, but no
Body knows by whom.

_Miran._ (_Aside._) Undone! past Redemption.

Sir _Fran._ What won't you speak to me, _Chargee!_

_Miran._ I'm so surpriz'd with Joy to see you, I know not what to say.

Sir _Fran._ Poor, dear Girl! But do'e know that my Son, or some such
Rogue, to rob or murder me, or both, contriv'd this Journey? For upon