Volume Iii Part 24 (1/2)

Sir _Tim_. Then it must defend you from all the s.e.x; for all Mankind are like me, nay, and all Womankind are, or wou'd be, what I must make thee.

_Phil_. What's that, a Wench?

Sir _Tim_. Fie, fie, that's a gross Name; no, a Miss, that's the Word-- a Lady of Delight, a Person of Pleasure and the rest; I'll keep thee, not a Woman of Quality shall be half so fine--Come, dear _Phillis_, yield. Oh, I am mad for the happy hour--come, say the word, 'tis but inclining thy Head a little thus, thy pretty Eyes down, and thy Cheeks all Blushes, and fetching a long Sigh--thus--with--do--what you please --at the end on't--and I shall take it for granted.

_Phil_. That, Sir, you'll never hear me say to any thing but a Husband, if I must say it then.

Sir _Tim_. A Husband! it is enough to spoil a Man's Appet.i.te, the very naming on't--By Fortune, thou hast been bred with thy great Grand-mother, some old Queen _Elizabeth_ Lady, that us'd to preach Warnings to young Maidens; but had she liv'd in this Age, she wou'd have repented her Error, especially had she seen the Sum that I offer thee--Come, let's in, by Fortune, I'm so vigorous, I shall ravish else.

_Phil_. Unhand me, or I'll call out. I a.s.sure you, this is not the way to gain me.

Sir _Tim_. I know there is a way to gain all mortal Womankind; but how to hit the critical Minute of the Berjere--

_Phil_. It is past your Politicks at this time, Sir.

Sir _Tim_. I'll try all ways, and the Devil's in it, if I don't hit upon the right at last. [_Aside_.

All the soft things I've said--

_Phil_. That a Knight of your Parts ought to say.

Sir _Tim_. Then I have kneel'd--and cry'd, and swore--and--

_Phil_. And d.a.m.n'd your self five hundred times.

Sir _Tim_. Yet still y'are impregnable--I'll make another Proposition to you, which is both reasonable and modish--if it prove a Boy--I'll marry you--the Devil's in't, if that be not fair.

_Phil_. You get no earnest of me, Sir, and so farewel to you.

[_Ex_. Phillis.

_Enter_ Sham.

Sir _Tim_. Oh, _Sham_, I am all over fire, mad to enjoy. I have done what Man can do (without doing what I wou'd do) and still she's Flint; nothing will down with her but Matrimony--what shall I do? for thou know'st I cannot marry a Wife without a Fortune.

_Sham_. Sir, you know the old Cheat; hire a Lay Rascal in a Canonical Habit, and put a false Marriage upon her.

Sir _Tim_. Lord, that this shou'd not enter into my c.o.xcomb before!

haste then and get one--I'll have it done immediately, whilst I go after her to keep up my flame.

[_Ex. Sir_ Tim.

_Sham_. And I will fit you with a Parson presently.

[_Ex_.

SCENE III. _A Street_.

_Enter_ Friendlove _disguis'd as before_.

_Friend_. I find _Diana_ knows me not; and this Year's absence, since I first made my Addresses to her, has alter'd me much, or she has lost the remembrance of a Man, whom she ever disesteem'd till in this lucky Dress: the price of her Favour is _Bellmour's_ Life. I need not have been brib'd for that, his Breach of Faith both to my Sister and my self, enough incites me to Revenge--He has not yet enjoy'd her, that Blessing is reserv'd for me alone; and though the Priest have joyn'd 'em, that Marriage may be disannull'd, and she has a Fortune sufficient to excuse her other Faults.

_Enter_ Bellmour _sad_.