Car.  That other’s my Mistress,—­couldst thou but keep this old Fellow in discourse whilst I give her the sign to retire a little.—­

Guil.  I’ll warrant you I’ll banter him till you have cuckolded him, if you manage matters as well as I.

Fran.  My Lord, I ask your pardon for my rudeness in not knowing you before, which I ought to have done in good manners I confess; who the Devil does he stare at so?—­Wife, I command you to withdraw, upon pain of our high displeasure.—­my Lord, I shall dispatch your affairs,—­he minds me not,—­Ay, ’tis my Wife, I say, Minion, be gone,—­your Bills, my Lord, are good, and I accept ’em;—­why a Devil he minds me not yet, [Julia goes to t’other side to Carlos.]—­and though I am not at my proper home,—­I am where I can command Money,—­hum,—­sure ’tis my Daughter,—­Ay, ay,—­’tis so, how if he should be smitten now; the plaguy Jade had sure the Spirit of Prophecy in her; ’tis so—­’tis she—­my Lord.

Guil.  Prithee, old Fellow, Peace,—­I am in love.

Fran.  In love,—­what, shall I be the Father of a Lord? wou’d it become me, think ye?—­he’s mighty full of Cogitabund—­my Lord,—­sure his Soul has left the Tenement of his Body—­I have his Bills here, and care not if it never return more.
              [Looks over the Bills.

Car.  Dear Julia, let’s retire, our time’s but short.

Jul.  I dare not with you, the venture wou’d be too bold in a young beginner in the Thefts of Love.

Guil.  Her Eyes are Suns, by Jove.

Car.  Oh, nothing is so ventrous as Love, if it be true.

Guil.  Or else, two Morning Stars, All other Beauties are but Soot to her.

Jul.  But shou’d my Husband—­

Car.  He’s safe for one dear half hour, I’ll warrant you, come.

Fran.  Um—­my Wife here still, must I begin to thunder.

Jul.  Lord, and you be so froward, I’ll be gone.—­

Car.  So, her Husband, kind heart, lest she should be cruel, has himself given me the dear opportunity.—­[Aside.—­Be sure you keep the old Fellow in discourse awhile.

Guil.  Be you as sure to cuckold him.—­ [Ex.  Car. and Jul.  —­Old Fellow,—­prithee what Person of Quality is that?

Fran.  Person of Quality! alas, my Lord, ’tis a silly Citizen’s Daughter.

Guil.  A Citizen’s! what clod of Earth cou’d bring forth such a Beauty?

Fran.  Alas, my Lord, I am that clod of Earth, and to Earth, if you call it so, she must return again, for she’s to be married to a Citizen this Morning.

Guil.  Oh!  I am doubly wounded, first with her harmonious Eyes,
Who’ve fir’d my Heart to that Degree,
No Chimney ever burnt like me. 
Fair Lady,—­suffer the Broom of my Affection to sweep all other Lovers
from your heart.