Volume Iii Part 115 (1/2)

_Scar_. Yes, yes. [_In heat_.

_Ela_. And hast thou delivered my Letter to his Nephew, Don _Cinthio_?

_Scar_. Yes, yes, what should I deliver else?

_Ela_. Well--and how does he?

_Scar_. Lord, how should he do? Why, what a laborious thing it is to be a Pimp? [_Fanning himself with his Cap_.

_Ela_. Why, well he shou'd do.

_Scar_. So he is, as well as a Night-adventuring Lover can be,--he has got but one Wound, Madam.

_Ela_. How! wounded say you? Oh Heavens! 'tis not mortal.

_Scar_. Why, I have no great skill; but they say it may be dangerous.

_Ela_. I die with Fear, where is he wounded?

_Scar_. Why, Madam, he is run--quite through the Heart,--but the Man may live, if I please.

_Ela_. Thou please! torment me not with Riddles.

_Scar_. Why, Madam, there is a certain cordial Balsam, call'd a Fair Lady; which outwardly applied to his Bosom, will prove a better cure than all your Weapon or sympathetick Powder, meaning your Ladys.h.i.+p.

_Ela_. Is _Cinthio_ then not wounded?

_Scar_. No otherwise than by your fair Eyes, Madam; he got away unseen and unknown.

_Ela_. Dost know how precious time is, and dost thou fool it away thus?

What said he to my Letter?

_Scar_. What should he say?

_Ela_. Why, a hundred dear soft things of Love, kiss it as often, and bless me for my Goodness.

_Scar_. Why, so he did.

_Ela_. Ask thee a thousand Questions of my Health after my last night's fright.

_Scar_. So he did.

_Ela_. Expressing all the kind concern Love cou'd inspire, for the Punishment my Father has inflicted on me, for entertaining him at my Window last night.

_Scar_. All this he did.

_Ela_. And for my being confin'd a Prisoner to my Apartment, without the hope or almost possibility of seeing him any more.

_Scar_. There I think you are a little mistaken; for besides the Plot that I have laid to bring you together all this Night,--there are such Stratagems a brewing, not only to bring you together, but with your Father's consent too; such a Plot, Madam--