Fail.  You must endure these rebukes with patience, Sir Timorous.

Const.  What, are you planet struck?  Look you, my lord, the gentleman’s tongue-tied.

Non.  This is past enduring.

Fail.  ’Tis nothing, my lord;—­courage, Sir Timorous.

Non.  I say ’tis past enduring; that’s more than ever I told you yet:  Do you come to make a fool of my daughter?

Isa.  Why lord—­

Non.  Why lady—­[Exit NONSUCH.

Trice.  Let’s follow the old man, and pacify him.

Isa.  Now, cousin,—­[Exeunt ISA.  TRICE, BURR.

Const.  Well, Mr Failer, I did not think you, of all the rest, would have endeavoured a thing so much against my inclination, as this marriage:  if you had been acquainted with my heart, I am sure you would not.

Fail.  What can the meaning of this be? you would not have me believe you love me; and yet how otherwise to understand you I vow to gad I cannot comprehend.

Const.  I did not say I loved you; but if I should take a fancy to your person and humour, I hope it is no crime to tell it you.  Women are tied to hard unequal laws:  The passion is the same in us, and yet we are debarred the freedom to express it.  You make poor Grecian beggars of us ladies; our desires must have no language, but only be fastened to our breasts.

Fail.  Come, come; egad I know the whole sex of you:  Your love’s at best but a kind:  of blind-man’s-buff, catching at him that’s next in your way.

Const.  Well, sir, I can take nothing ill from you; when ’tis too late you’ll see how unjust you have been to me.  I have said too much already.—­[Is going.

Fail.  Nay stay, sweet madam!  I vow to gad my fortune’s better than I could imagine.

Const.  No, pray let me go, sir; perhaps I was in jest.

Fail.  Really, madam, I look upon you as a person of such worth, and all that, that I vow to gad I honour you of all persons in the world; and though I am a person that am inconsiderable in the world, and all that, madam, for a person of your worth and excellency I would—­

Const.  What would you, sir?

Fail.  Sacrifice my life and fortunes, I vow to gad, madam.

Enter ISABELLA, BURR, and TIMOROUS, at a distance from them.

Isa.  There’s Failer close in talk with my cousin; he’s soliciting your suit, I warrant you, Sir Timorous:  Do but observe with what passion he courts for you.

Burr.  I do not like that kneading of her hand though.

Isa.  Come, you are such a jealous coxcomb:  I warrant you suspect there’s some amour between ’em; there can be nothing in’t, it is so open:  Pray observe.

Burr.  But how come you so officious, madam? you, that ere now had a design upon Sir Timorous for yourself?