Isa.  You are deceived; they think me too virtuous for their purpose; but I have yet another way to try, and you shall help me.

Enter LOVEBY, new habited.

Const.  Mr Loveby, welcome, welcome:  Where have you been this fortnight?

Lov.  Faith, madam, out of town, to see a little thing that’s fallen to me upon the death of a grandmother.

Const.  You thank death for the windfall, servant:  But why are you not in mourning for her?

Lov.  Troth, madam, it came upon me so suddenly, I had not time:  ’Twas a fortune utterly unexpected by me.

Isa.  Why, was your grandmother so young, you could not look for her decease?

Lov.  Not for that neither; but I had many other kindred, whom she might have left it to; only she heard I lived here in fashion, and spent my money in the eye of the world.

Const.  You forge these things prettily; but I have heard you are as poor as a decimated cavalier, and had not one foot of land in all the world.

Lov.  Rivals’ tales, rivals’ tales, madam.

Const.  Where lies your land, sir?

Lov.  I’ll tell you, madam, it has upon it a very fair manor house; from one side you have in prospect an hanging garden.

Isa.  Who was hanged there? not your grandmother, I hope?

Lov.  In the midst of it you have a fountain:  You have seen that at Hampton-court? it will serve to give you a slight image of it.  Beyond the garden you look to a river through a perspective of fruit-trees; and beyond the river you see a mead so flowery!—­Well, I shall never be at quiet, till we two make hay there.

Const.  But where lies this paradise?

Lov.  Pox on’t; I am thinking to sell it, it has such a villanous unpleasant name, it would have sounded so harsh in a lady’s ear.  But for the fountain, madam—­

Const.  The fountain’s a poor excuse, it will not hold water; come, the name, the name.

Lov.  Faith, it is come so lately into my hands, that I have forgot the name on’t.

Isa.  That’s much, now, that you should forget the name, and yet could make such an exact description of the place.

Lov.  If you would needs know, the name’s Bawdy.—­Sure this will give a stop to their curiosity. [Aside.

Isa.  At least you will tell us in what county it lies, that my cousin may send to enquire about it:  come, this shall not serve your turn; tell us any town that’s near it.

Lov.  ’Twill be somewhat too far to send; it lies in the very north of Scotland.

Isa.  In good time, a paradise in the Highlands; is’t not so, sir?

Const.  It seems you went post, servant:  in troth you are a rank rider, to go to the north of Scotland, stay and take possession, and return again, in ten days time.