Dia.  I know his Virtue justifies my Choice:  But Pride and Modesty forbids I shou’d unlov’d pursue him.

Let.  Wrong not my Brother so, who dies for you—­

Dia.  Cou’d he so easily see me given away,
Without a Sigh at parting? 
For all the day a Calm was in his Eyes,
And unconcern’d he look’d and talk’d to me;
In dancing never prest my willing Hand,
Nor with a scornful Glance reproach’d my Falshood.

Let.  Believe me, that Dissembling was his Master-piece.

Dia.  Why should he fear, did not my Father promise him?

Let.  Ay, that was in his wooing time to me: 
But now ’tis all forgotten—­
                                [Musick at the door.

After which enter Bearjest and Bredwel.

L. Ful.  How now, Cousin!  Is this high piece of Gallantry from you?

Bea.  Ay, Madam, I have not travel’d for nothing—­

L. Ful.  I find my Cousin is resolv’d to conquer, he assails with all his Artillery of Charms; we’ll leave him to his success, Madam.—­

[Ex.  Leticia and L.  Fulbank.

Bea.  Oh Lord, Madam, you oblige me—­look, Ned, you had a mind to have a full view of my Mistress, Sir, and—­here she is.
[He stands gazing. 
Go, salute her—­look how he stands now; what a sneaking thing is a Fellow who has never travel’d and seen the World!—­Madam—­this is a very honest Friend of mine, for all he looks so simply.

Dia.  Come, he speaks for you, Sir.

Bea.  He, Madam! though he be but a Banker’s Prentice, Madam, he’s as pretty a Fellow of his Inches as any i’th’ City—­he has made love in Dancing-Schools, and to Ladies of Quality in the middle Gallery, and shall joke ye—­and repartee with any Fore-man within the Walls—­prithee to her—­and commend me, I’ll give thee a new Point Crevat.

Dia.  He looks as if he cou’d not speak to me.

Bea.  Not speak to you! yes, Gad, Madam, and do any thing to you too.

Dia.  Are you his Advocate, Sir? [In scorn.

Bea.  For want of a better—­
                                 [Stands behind him, pushing him on.

Bred.  An Advocate for Love I am, And bring you such a Message from a Heart—­

Bea.  Meaning mine, dear Madam.

Bred.  That when you hear it, you will pity it.

Bea.  Or the Devil’s in her—­

Dia.  Sir, I have many Reasons to believe, It is my Fortune you pursue, not Person.

Bea.  There is something in that, I must confess. [Behind him.  But say what you will, Ned.

Bred.  May all the Mischiefs of despairing Love Fall on me if it be.

Bea.  That’s well enough—­