Volume Ii Part 58 (2/2)
_Wild_. Hear me--That I have hitherto secur'd her at a Friend's House here in the City; but diligent search being now made, dare trust her there no longer: and make it my humble Request by you, my Friend, (who are only privy to this Secret) that he wou'd give me leave to bring her home to his House, whose very Authority will defend her from being sought for there.
_Dres_. Ay, Sir, but what will come of this, I say?
_Wild_. Why, a Settlement; you know he has already made me Heir to all he has, after his decease: but for being a wicked Tory, as he calls me, he has after the Writings were made, sign'd, and seal'd, refus'd to give 'em in trust. Now when he sees I have made my self Master of so vast a Fortune, he will immediately surrender; that reconciles all again.
_Dres_. Very likely; but wo't thou trust him with the Woman, Thomas.
_Wild_. No, here's _Diana_, who, as I shall bedizen, shall pa.s.s for as substantial an Alderman's Heiress as ever fell into wicked Hands. He never knew the right _Charlot_, nor indeed has any body ever seen her but an old Aunt and Nurse, she was so kept up--And there, _Diana_, thou shall have a good opportunity to lye, dissemble, and jilt in abundance, to keep thy hand in ure. Prithee, dear _Dresswell_, haste with the News to him.
_Dres_. Faith, I like this well enough; this Project may take, and I'll about it.
[_Goes out_.
_Wild_. Go, get ye home, and trick and betauder your self up like a right City-Lady, rich, but ill-fas.h.i.+on'd; on with all your Jewels, but not a Patch, ye Gypsy, nor no Spanish Paint d'ye hear.
_Dia_. I'll warrant you for my part.
_Wild_. Then before the old Gentleman, you must behave your self very soberly, simple, and demure, and look as prew as at a Conventicle; and take heed you drink not off your Gla.s.s at Table, nor rant, nor swear: one Oath confounds our Plot, and betrays thee to be an arrant Drab.
_Dia_. Doubt not my Art of Dissimulation.
_Wild_. Go, haste and dress-- [_Ex_. Dian. Bet. _and Boy_.
_Enter Lady_ Gall, _and_ Closet, _above in the Balcony_; Wild. _going out, sees them, stops, and reads a Paper_.
_Wild_. Hah, who's yonder? the Widow! a Pox upon't, now have I not power to stir; she has a d.a.m.n'd hank upon my Heart, and nothing but right down lying with her will dissolve the Charm. She has forbid me seeing her, and therefore I am sure will the sooner take notice of me.
[_Reads_.
_Clos_. What will you put on to night, Madam? You know you are to sup at Sir _Timothy Treat-all's_.
L. _Gal_. Time enough for that; prithee let's take a turn in this Balcony, this City-Garden, where we walk to take the fresh Air of the Sea-coal Smoak. Did the Footman go back, as I ordered him, to see how _Wilding_ and Sir _Charles_ parted?
_CIos_. He did, Madam, and nothing cou'd provoke Sir _Charles_ to fight after your Ladys.h.i.+p's strict Commands. Well, I'll swear he's the sweetest natur'd Gentleman--has all the advantages of Nature and Fortune: I wonder what Exception your Ladys.h.i.+p has to him.
L. _Gal_. Some small Exception to his whining Humour; but I think my chiefest dislike is, because my Relations wish it a Match between us. It is not hate to him, but natural contradiction. Hah, is not that _Wilding_ yonder? he's reading of a Letter sure.
_Wild_. So, she sees me. Now for an Art to make her lure me up: for though I have a greater mind than she, it shall be all her own; the Match she told me of this Morning with my Uncle, sticks plaguily upon my Stomach; I must break the Neck on't, or break the Widow's Heart, that's certain. If I advance towards the Door now, she frowningly retires; if I pa.s.s on, 'tis likely she may call me.
[_Advances_.
L. _Gal_. I think he's pa.s.sing on, Without so much as looking towards the Window.
_Clos_. He's glad of the excuse of being forbidden.
L. _Gal_. But, Closet, know'st thou not he has abus'd my Fame, And does he think to pa.s.s thus unupbraided?
Is there no Art to make him look this way?
No Trick--Prithee feign to laugh. [Clos. _laughs_.
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