_Wild_. Dear _Dresswell_, entertain _Charles Meriwill_ a little, whilst I speak to _Galliard_.
[_The Men go all to the drinking Table_.
By Heaven, I die, I languish for a Word!
--Madam, I hope you have not made a Vow To speak with none but that young Cavalier.
They say, the Freedom English Ladies use, Is, as their Beauty, great.
L. _Gal_. Sir, we are none of those of so nice and delicate a Virtue, as Conversation can corrupt; we live in a cold Climate.
_Wild_. And think you're not so apt to be in Love, As where the Sun shines oftner.
But you too much partake of the Inconstancy of this your fickle Climate.
[_Maliciously to her_.
One day all Sun-shine, and th' encourag'd Lover Decks himself up in glittering Robes of Hope; And in the midst of all their boasted Finery Comes a dark Cloud across his Mistress' Brow, Dashes the Fool, and spoils the gaudy Show.
[L. Gal. _observing him nearly_.
L. _Gal_. Hah, do I not know that railing Tongue of yours?
_Wild_. 'Tis from your Guilt, not Judgment then.
I was resolv'd to be to night a Witness Of that sworn Love you flatter'd me so often with.
By Heaven, I saw you playing with my Rival, Sigh'd, and lookt Babies in his gloating Eyes.
When is the Assignation? When the Hours?
For he's impatient as the raging Sea, Loose as the Winds, and amorous as the Sun, That kisses all the Beauties of the Spring.
L. _Gal_. I take him for a sober Person, Sir.
_Wild_. Have I been the Companion of his Riots In all the leud course of our early Youth, Where like unwearied Bees we gather'd Flowers?
But no kind Blossom could oblige our stay, We rifled and were gone.
L. _Gal_. Your Virtues I perceive are pretty equal; Only his Love's the honester o'th' two.
_Wild_. Honester! that is, he wou'd owe his good Fortune to the Parson of the Parish; And I would be oblig'd to you alone.
He wou'd have a Licence to boast he lies with you, And I wou'd do't with Modesty and Silence: For Virtue's but a Name kept free from Scandal, Which the most base of Women best preserve, Since Jilting and Hypocrisy cheat the World best.
--But we both love, and who shall blab the Secret?
[_In a soft Tone_.
L. _Gal_. Oh, why were all the Charms of speaking given To that false Tongue that makes no better use of 'em?
--I'll hear no more of your inchanting Reasons.
_Wild_. You must.
L. _Gal_. I will not.
_Wild_. Indeed you must.
L. _Gal_. By all the Powers above--
_Wild_. By all the Powers of Love you'll break your Oath, Unless you swear this Night to let me see you.
L. _Gal_. This Night.
_Wild_. This very Night.
L. _Gal_. I'd die first--At what Hour?
[_First turns away, then sighs and looks on him_.
_Wild_. Oh, name it; and if I fail-- [_With Joy_.
L. _Gal_. I wou'd not for the World--
_Wild_. That I shou'd fail!
L. _Gal_. Not name the guilty Hour.
_Wild_. Then I through eager haste shall come too soon, And do your Honour wrong.
L. _Gal_. My Honour! Oh, that Word!
_Wild_. Which the Devil was in me for naming. [_Aside_.
--At Twelve.
L. _Gal_. My Women and my Servants then are up.
_Wild_. At One, or Two.
L. _Gal_. So late! 'twill be so quickly Day!
_Wild_. Ay, so it will; That half our Business will be left unfinisht.
L. _Gal_. Hah, what do you mean? what Business?
_Wild_. A thousand tender things I have to say; A thousand Vows of my eternal Love; And now and then we'll kiss and--
L. _Gal_. Be extremely honest.
_Wild_. As you can wish.
L. _Gal_. Rather as I command: for should he know my wish, I were undone.
[_Aside_.
_Wild_. The Sign--
L. _Gal_. Oh, press me not--yet you may come at Midnight under my Chamber-Window.
[_Sir_ Char. _sees 'em so close, comes to 'em_.
Sir _Char_. Hold, Sir, hold! Whilst I am listning to the Relation of your French Fortifications, Outworks, and Counterscarps, I perceive the Enemy in my Quarters--My Lord, by your leave.
[_Puts him by, growing drunk_.
_Char_. Persuade me not; I burst with Jealousy.