Sir Tim.  Yes, faith, Madam, I am Sir Timothy Tawdrey, at your Service—­Pray are not you Mrs. Celinda Dresswell?

Cel.  The same, but cannot return your Compliment.

Sir Tim.  Oh Lord, oh Lord, not return a Compliment.  Faith, Ned, thy Sister’s quite spoil’d, for want of Town-Education; ’tis pity, for she’s devilish pretty.

Friend.  She’s modest, Sir, before Company; therefore these Gentlemen and I will withdraw into the next Room.

Cel.  Inhuman Brother!  Will you leave me alone with this Sot?

Friend.  Yes, and if you would be rid of the trouble of him, be not coy, nor witty; two things he hates.

Bel.  ’Sdeath!  Must she be blown upon by that Fool?

Friend.  Patience, dear Frank, a little while.

[Exeunt Friend.  Bell.  Sham and Sharp.

[Sir Timothy walks about the Room, expecting when
Celinda should speak.

Cel.  Oh, dear Nurse, what shall I do?

Nur.  I that ever help you at a dead Lift, will not fail you now.

Sir Tim.  What a Pox, not a Word?

Cel.  Sure this Fellow believes I’ll begin.

Sir Tim.  Not yet—­sure she has spoke her last—­

Nur.  The Gentleman’s good-natur’d, and has took pity on you, and will not trouble you, I think.

Sir Tim.—­Hey day, here’s Wooing indeed—­Will she never begin, trow?  —­This some would call an excellent Quality in her Sex—­But a pox on’t, I do not like it—­Well, I see I must break Silence at last—­Madam—­not answer me—­’shaw, this is mere ill breeding—­by Fortune—­it can be nothing else—­O’ my Conscience, if I should kiss her, she would bid me stand off—­I’ll try—­

Nur.  Hold, Sir, you mistake your Mark.

Sir Tim.  So I should, if I were to look in thy mouldy Chaps, good
Matron—­Can your Lady speak?

Nur.  Try, Sir.

Sir Tim.  Which way?

Nur.  Why, speak to her first.

Sir Tim.  I never knew a Woman want a Cue for that; but all that I
Have met with were still before-hand with me in tittle tattle.

Nur.  Likely those you have met with may, but this is no such Creature, Sir.

Sir Tim.  I must confess, I am unus’d to this kind of Dialogue; and
I am an Ass, if I know what to say to such a Creature. 
—­But come, will you answer me to one Question?

Cel.  If I can, Sir.

Sir Tim.  But first I should ask you if you can speak?  For that’s a
Question too.

Cel.  And if I cannot, how will you be answer’d?

Sir Tim.  Faith, that’s right; why, then you must do’t by signs.

Cel.  But grant I can speak, what is’t you’ll ask me?