use, or Out-House_.

_Enter with a Dark-lanthorn_ Bredwel _disguis'd like a Devil,
leading_ Gayman.

_Bred_. Stay here till I give notice of your coming.
[_Exit_ Bredwel, _leaves his Dark-Lanthorn_.

_Gay_. Kind Light, a little of your aid--now must I be peeping, though
my Curiosity should lose me all--hah--Zouns, what here--a Hovel or a
Hog-sty? hum, see the Wickedness of Man, that I should find no time to
swear in, but just when I'm in the Devil's Clutches.

_Enter_ Pert, _as an old Woman, with a Staff_.

_Old W_. Good Even to you, fair Sir.

_Gay_. Ha--defend me; if this be she, I must rival the Devil, that's
certain.

_Old W_. Come, young Gentleman, dare not you venture?

_Gay_. He must be as hot as _Vesuvius_ that does--I shall never earn my
Morning's Present.

_Old W_. What, do you fear a longing Woman, Sir?

_Gay_. The Devil I do--this is a damn'd Preparation to Love.

_Old W_. Why stand you gazing, Sir? A Woman's Passion is like the Tide,
it stays for no man when the hour is come--

_Gay_. I'm sorry I have took it at its Turning; I'm sure mine's ebbing
out as fast.

_Old W_. Will you not speak, Sir--will you not on?

_Gay_. I wou'd fain ask--a civil Question or two first.

_Old W_. You know too much Curiosity lost Paradise.

_Gay_. Why, there's it now.

_Old W_. Fortune and Love invite you, if you dare follow me.

_Gay_. This is the first thing in Petticoats that ever dar'd me in vain.
Were I but sure she were but human now--for sundry Considerations she
might down--but I will on--

[_She goes, he follows; both go out_.

SCENE IV. _A Chamber in the Apartments of L. _Fulbank.

_Enter_ Old Woman _followed by_ Gayman _in the dark_.

[_Soft Musick plays, she leaves him_.

_Gay_.--Hah, Musick--and Excellent!

SONG.

_Oh! Love, that stronger art than Wine,
Pleasing Delusion, Witchery divine,
Want to be prized above all Wealth,
Disease that has more Joys than Health;
Though we blaspheme thee in our Pain,
And of thy Tyranny complain,
We all are bettered by thy Reign.

What Reason never can bestow,
We to this useful Passion owe.
Love wakes the dull from sluggish Ease,
And learns a Clown the Art to please:
Humbles the Vain, kindles the Cold,
Makes Misers free, and Cowards bold.
'Tis he reforms the Sot from Drink,
And teaches airy Fops to think.

When full brute Appetite is