Bea.  Sho! a Pox of the Devil, Man—­I can’t attend to speak with him now.

Gay.  How, Sir!  D’ye think my Devil of so little Quality, to suffer an Affront unrevenged?

Bea.  Sir, I cry his Devilship’s Pardon:  I did not know his Quality.  I protest, Sir, I love and honour him, but I am now just going to be married, Sir; and when that Ceremony’s past, I’m ready to go to the Devil as soon as you please.

Gay.  I have told him your Desire of seeing him, and shou’d you baffle him?

Bea.  Who, I, Sir!  Pray, let his Worship know, I shall be proud of the Honour of his Acquaintance; but, Sir, my Mistress and the Parson wait in Ned’s Chamber.

Gay.  If all the World wait, Sir, the Prince of Hell will stay for no Man.

Bred.  Oh, Sir, rather than the Prince of the Infernals shall be affronted, I’ll conduct the Lady up, and entertain her till you come, Sir.

Bea.  Nay, I have a great mind to kiss his—­Paw, Sir; but I cou’d wish you’d shew him me by day-light, Sir.

Gay.  The Prince of Darkness does abhor the Light.  But, Sir, I will for once allow your Friend the Captain to keep you company.

    Enter Noisey and Diana.

Bea.  I’m much oblig’d to you, Sir; oh, Captain—­ [Talks to him.

Bred.  Haste, Dear; the Parson waits, To finish what the Powers design’d above.

Dia.  Sure nothing is so bold as Maids in Love! [They go out.

Noi.  Psho! he conjure—­he can flie as soon.

Gay.  Gentlemen, you must be sure to confine your selves to this Circle, and have a care you neither swear, nor pray.

Bea.  Pray, Sir!  I dare say neither of us were ever that way gifted.

A horrid Noise.

Gay.

Cease your Horror, cease your Haste. 
And calmly as I saw you last,
Appear!  Appear! 
By thy Pearls and Diamond Rocks,
By thy heavy Money-Box,
By thy shining Petticoat,
That hid thy cloven Feet from Note;
By the Veil that hid thy Face,
Which else had frighten’d humane Race: 
[Soft Musick ceases.
Appear, that I thy Love may see,
Appear, kind Fiends, appear to me.

A Pox of these Rascals, why come they not?

Four enter from the four corners of the Stage, to Musick
that plays; they dance, and in the Dance, dance round ’em,
and kick, pinch, and beat ’em.

Bea.  Oh, enough, enough!  Good Sir, lay ’em, and I’ll pay the Musick—­

Gay.  I wonder at it—­these Spirits are in their Nature kind, and peaceable—­but you have basely injur’d some body—­confess, and they will be satisfied—­

Bea.  Oh, good Sir, take your Cerberuses off—­I do confess, the Captain here, and I have violated your Fame.