ACT III.—­SCENE I.

Enter SAINTLY and PLEASANCE.

Pleas. Never fear it, I’ll be a spy upon his actions; he shall neither whisper nor gloat on either of them, but I’ll ring him such a peal!

Saint. Above all things, have a care of him yourself; for surely there is witchcraft betwixt his lips:  He is a wolf within the sheepfold; and therefore I will be earnest, that you may not fall.
          
                                                    [Exit.

Pleas. Why should my mother be so inquisitive about this lodger?  I half suspect old Eve herself has a mind to be nibbling at the pippin.  He makes love to one of them, I am confident; it may be to both; for, methinks, I should have done so, if I had been a man; but the damned petticoats have perverted me to honesty, and therefore I have a grudge to him for the privilege of his sex.  He shuns me, too, and that vexes me; for, though I would deny him, I scorn he should not think me worth a civil question.

  Re-enter WOODALL, with TRICKSY, MRS BRAINSICK,
  JUDITH, and Music.

Mrs Brain. Come, your works, your works; they shall have the approbation of Mrs Pleasance.

Trick. No more apologies; give Judith the words, she sings at sight.

Jud. I’ll try my skill.

        A SONG FROM THE ITALIAN.

By a dismal cypress lying, Damon cried, all pale and dying,—­ Kind is death, that ends my pain, But cruel she I loved in vain.  The mossy fountains Murmur my trouble, And hollow mountains My groans redouble:  Every nymph mourns me, Thus while I languish; She only scorns me, Who caused my anguish.  No love returning me, but all hope denying; By a dismal cypress lying, Like a swan, so sung he dying,—­ Kind is death, that ends my pain, But cruel she I loved in vain.

Pleas. By these languishing eyes, and those simagres of yours, we are given to understand, sir, you have a mistress in this company; come, make a free discovery which of them your poetry is to charm, and put the other out of pain.

Trick. No doubt ’twas meant to Mrs Brainsick.

Mrs Brain. We wives are despicable creatures; we know it, madam, when a mistress is in presence.

Pleas. Why this ceremony betwixt you?  ’Tis a likely proper fellow, and looks as he could people a new isle of Pines[7].

Mrs Brain. ’Twere a work of charity to convert a fair young schismatick, like you, if ’twere but to gain you to a better opinion of the government.

Pleas. If I am not mistaken in you, too, he has works of charity enough upon his hands already; but ’tis a willing soul, I’ll warrant him, eager upon the quarry, and as sharp as a governor of Covent-Garden.

Wood. Sure this is not the phrase of your family!  I thought to have found a sanctified sister; but I suspect now, madam, that if your mother kept a pension in your father’s time, there might be some gentleman-lodger in the house; for I humbly conceive you are of the half-strain at least.