Volume Iv Part 100 (1/2)

_Oliv._ I think, Brother, I writ you word to Paris, of a Marriage concluded betwixt me and _Welborn_?

_Geo._ That Letter I receiv'd: but from the dear _Mirtilla_, not one soft word; not one tender Line has blest my Eyes, has eas'd my panting Heart this tedious three Months s.p.a.ce; and thou with whom I left the weighty Charge of her dear Heart, to watch her lovely Eyes, to give me notice when my Rivals press'd, and when she waver'd in her Faith to me, even thou wert silent to me, cruel Sister.

_Oliv._ Thou wilt be like a Lover presently, and tire the Hearer with a Book of Words, of heavy Sighs, dying Languishments, and all that huddle of Nonsense; and not tell me how you like my Marriage.

_Geo._ _Welborn's_ my Friend, and worthy of thy Heart.

_Oliv._ I never saw him yet; and to be sold unseen, and unsigh'd for, in the Flower of my Youth and Beauty, gives me a strange aversion to the Match.

_Geo._ Oh! you'll like him when you see him--But my _Mirtilla_.--

_Oliv._ Like him--no, no, I never shall--what, come a Stranger to my Husband's Bed? 'Tis Prost.i.tution in the leudest manner, without the Satisfaction; the Pleasure of Variety, and the Bait of Profit, may make a lame excuse for Wh.o.r.es, who change their Cullies, and quit their nauseous Fools--No, no, my Brother, when Parents grow arbitrary, 'tis time we look into our Rights and Privileges; therefore, my dear _George_, if e'er thou hope for Happiness in Love, a.s.sist my Disobedience.

_Geo._ In any worthy Choice be sure of me; but canst thou wish Happiness in Love, and not inform me something of _Mirtilla_?

_Oliv._ I'll tell you better News--our hopeful elder Brother, Sir _Merlin_, is like to be disinherited; for he is, Heaven be thanked--

_Geo._ Marry'd to some Town-Jilt, the common fate of c.o.xcombs.

_Oliv._ Not so, my dear _George_, but sets up for a celebrated Rake-h.e.l.l, as well as Gamester; he cou'd not have found out a more dextrous way to have made thee Heir to four Thousand Pounds a Year.

_Geo._ What's that without _Mirtilla_?

_Oliv._ Prithee no more of her--Love spoils a fine Gentleman: Gaming, Whoring and Fighting may qualify a Man for Conversation; but Love perverts all one's Thoughts, and makes us fit Company for none but one's self; for even a Mistress can scarce dispense with a fighting, whining Lover's Company long, though all he says flatters her Pride.

_Geo._ Why dost thou trifle with me, when thou knowest the Violence of my Love?

_Oliv._ I wish I could any way divert your Thoughts from her, I would not have your Joy depend on such a fickle Creature.

_Geo._ _Mirtilla_ false! What, my _Mirtilla_ false!

_Oliv._ Even your _Mirtilla's_ false, and married to another.

_Geo._ Married! _Mirtilla_ married! 'Tis impossible.

_Oliv._ Nay, married to that bawling, drinking Fool, Sir _Morgan Blunder_.

_Geo._ Married, and married to Sir _Morgan Blunder_! a Sot, an ill-bred senseless Fool; almost too great a Fool to make a Country Justice?

_Oliv._ No doubt, she had her Aims in't, he's a very convenient Husband, I'll a.s.sure you, and that suits her Temper: he has Estate and Folly enough, and she has Youth and Wantonness enough to match 'em.

_Geo._ Her Choice gives me some Comfort, and some Hopes; for I'll pursue her, but for Revenge, not Love.

_Oliv._ Forget her rather, for she's not worth Revenge, and that way 'twill be none; prost.i.tute in Soul as Body, she doats even on me in Breeches.

_Geo._ On thee, her Page? doat on thee, a Youth! she knew thee not as Woman.

_Oliv._ No, that Secret I have kept to do you Service.--At first she said she lov'd me for your sake, because you recommended me; and when I sung, or plaid upon my Flute, wou'd kiss my Cheek, and sigh, and often (when alone) wou'd send for me, and smile, and talk, and set my Hair in Curls, to make me saucy and familiar with her. One Day she said, _Endimion_, thy Name-sake was thus caress'd by _Cynthia_: A G.o.ddess did not scorn the humble Swain, whom by her Love she equal'd to her Deity.

She found that I had Sense to understand her, and paid her Advances back with equal Ardour.

_Geo._ Oh, Curse! where learnt she all this Wickedness? [Aside.