bs in our way.

Sir _Geo._ Thou'lt carry the Prize--but hist, here he comes.

_Enter Sir _ Jealous_, dragging in _Isabinda_._

Sir _Jeal._ Come along, you stubborn Baggage you, come along.

_Isab._
Oh hear me, Sir! hear me but speak one Word,
Do not destroy my everlasting Peace;
My Soul abhors this _Spaniard_ you have chose
Nor can I wed him without being curst.

Sir _Jeal._ How's that!

_Isab._
Let this Posture move your tender Nature. (_Kneels._
For ever will I hang upon these Knees;
Nor loose my Hands till you cut off my hold,
If you refuse to hear me, Sir.

_Char._ Oh! that I cou'd discover my self to her.
(_Aside_

Sir _Geo._ Have a care what you do. You had better trust to his
Obstinacy.
(_Aside_

Sir _Jeal._ Did you ever see such a perverse Slut: Off I say Mr.
_Meanwell_ pray help me a little.

Sir _Geo._ Rise, Madam, and do not disoblige your Father, who has
provided a Husband worthy of you, one that will Love you equal with his
Soul, and one that you will Love, when once you know him.

_Isab._ Oh! never, never. Cou'd I suspect that Falshood in my Heart, I
wou'd this Moment tear it from my Breast, and streight present him with
the Treacherous Part.

_Char._ Oh! my charming faithful Dear.
(_Aside._

Sir _Jeal._ Falshood! why, who the Devil are you in Love with? Ha! Don't
provoke me, for by St. _Jago_ I shall beat you, Housewife.

_Char._ Heaven forbid; for I shall infallibly discover my self if he
should.
(_Aside._

Sir _Geo._ Have Patience, Madam! and look at him: Why will you
prepossess your self against a Man that is Master of all the Charms you
would desire in a Husband?

Sir _Jeal._ Ay, look at him, _Isabinda_, _Senior pase vind adelante._

_Char._ My Heart bleeds to see her grieve, whom I imagin'd would with
Joy receive me. _Seniora obligue me vuestra merced de sumano._

Sir _Jeal._ (_Pulling up her Head._) Hold up your Head, hold up your
Head, Housewife, and look at him: Is there a properer, handsomer, better
shap'd Fellow in _England_, ye Jade you. Ha! see, see the obstinate
Baggage shuts her Eyes; by St. _Jago_, I have a good Mind to beat 'em
out.
(_Pushes her down._

_Isab._
Do then, Sir, kill me, kill me instantly.
'Tis much the kinder Action of the Two,
For 'twill be worse than Death to wed him.

Sir _Geo._ Sir _Jealous_, you are too passionate. Give me leave, I'll
try by gentle Words to work her to your Purpose.

Sir