Astraea: 
               What is the matter, uncle Homeware?

Homeware (playing fox): 
                                   What? 
               Why, we have watched your nice preliminaries
               From the windows half the evening.  Now run in. 
               Their patience has run out, and, as I said,
               Unlimber and deliver fire at once. 
               Your aunts Virginia and Winifred,
               With Lady Oldlace, are the senators,
               The Dame for Dogs.  They wear terrific brows,
               But be not you affrighted, my sweet chick,
               And tell them uncle Homeware backs your choice,
               By lawyer and by priests! by altar, fount,
               And testament!

Astraea: 
               My choice! what have I chosen?

Homeware: 
               She asks?  You hear her, Arden?—­what and whom!

Arden: 
               Surely, sir! . . . heavens! have you . . .

Homeware: 
                                   Surely the old fox,
               In all I have read, is wiser than the young: 
               And if there is a game for fox to play,
               Old fox plays cunningest.

Astraea: 
               Why fox?  Oh! uncle,
               You make my heart beat with your mystery;
               I never did love riddles.  Why sit they
               Awaiting me, and looking terrible?

Homeware: 
               It is reported of an ancient folk
               Which worshipped idols, that upon a day
               Their idol pitched before them on the floor

Astraea: 
               Was ever so ridiculous a tale!

Homeware
               To call the attendant fires to account
               Their elders forthwith sat . . .

Astraea: 
                                   Is there no prayer
               Will move you, uncle Homeware?

Homeware: 
                              God-daughter,
               This gentleman for you I have proposed
               As husband.

Astraea: 
               Arden! we are lost.

Arden: 
                                   Astraea! 
               Support him!  Though I knew not his design,
               It plants me in mid-heaven.  Would it were
               Not you, but I to bear the shock.  My love! 
               We lost, you cry; you join me with you lost! 
               The truth leaps from your heart:  and let it shine
               To light us on our brilliant battle day
               And victory

Astraea: 
               Who betrayed me!