Volume Ii Part 76 (1/2)

_She is discovered dressing, with_ Betty.

_Dia_. Methinks I'm up as early as if I had a mind to what I'm going to do, marry this rich old c.o.xcomb.

_Bet_. And you do well to lose no time.

_Dia_. Ah, Betty, and cou'd thy Prudence prefer an old Husband, because rich, before so young, so handsom, and so soft a Lover as _Wilding_?

_Bet_. I know not that, Madam; but I verily believe the way to keep your young Lover, is to marry this old one: for what Youth and Beauty cannot purchase, oney and Quality may.

_Dia_. Ay, but to be oblig'd to lie with such a Beast; ay, there's the Devil, _Betty_. Ah, when I find the difference of their Embraces, The soft dear Arms of _Wilding_ round my Neck.

From those cold feeble ones of this old Dotard; When I shall meet, instead of _Tom's_ warm kisses, A hollow Pair of thin blue wither'd Lips, Trembling with Palsy, stinking with Disease, By Age and Nature barricado'd up With a kind Nose and Chin; What Fancy or what Thought can make my Hours supportable?

_Bet_. What? why six thousand Pounds a Year, Mistress. He'll quickly die, and leave you rich, and then do what you please.

_Dia_. Die! no, he's too temperate--Sure these Whigs, _Betty_, believe there's no Heaven, they take such care to live so long in this World--No, he'll out-live me.

[_Sighs_.

_Bet_. In Grace a G.o.d he may be hang'd first, Mistress--Ha, one knocks, and I believe 'tis he.

[_She goes to open the Door_.

_Dia_. I cannot bring my Heart to like this Business; One sight of my dear _Tom_ wou'd turn the Scale.

_Bet_. Who's there?

_Enter Sir_ Tim. _joyful_; Dian. _walks away_.

Sir _Tim_. 'Tis I, impatient I, who with the Sun have welcom'd in the Day; This happy Day to be inroll'd In Rubrick Letters and in Gold.

--Hum, I am profoundly eloquent this Morning. [_Aside_.

--Fair Excellence, I approach-- [_Going toward her_.

_Dia_. Like Physick in a Morning next one's Heart; [_Aside_.

Which, though it be necessary, is most filthy loathsom.

[_Going from him_.

Sir _Tim_. What, do you turn away, bright Sun of Beauty?

--Hum, I'm much upon the Suns and Days this Morning.

_Dia_. It will not down.

[_Turning on him, looks on him, and turns away_.

Sir _Tim_. Alas, ye G.o.ds, am I despis'd and scorn'd?

Did I for this ponder upon the Question, Whether I should be King or Alderman?

[_Heroickly_.

_Dia_. If I must marry him, give him Patience to endure the Cuckolding, good Heaven. [_Aside_.

Sir _Tim_. Heaven! did she name Heaven, Betty?