Volume Iv Part 106 (2/2)

_Prince._ Thou mayst as well claim Kindred to the G.o.ds; she's mine, a Kingdom shall not buy her from me.

Sir _Morg._ Hay day, my Wife yours! look ye, as d'ye see, what, is it _Midsummer-moon_ with you, Sir, or so, d'ye see?

_Mir._ In pity give him way, he's madder than a Storm.

_Prince._ Thou know'st thou art, and thy dear Eyes confess it--a numerous Train attended our Nuptials, witness the Priest, witness the sacred Altar where we kneel'd--when the blest silent Ceremony was perform'd.

_Mir._ Alas! he's mad, past all recovery mad.

Sir _Mer._ Mad, say, poor Soul--Friend, how long has your Master been thus intoxicated?

_Page._ He's mad indeed to make this Discovery. [Aside.

Alas, Sir, he's thus as often as he sees a beautiful Lady, since he lost a Mistress, who dy'd in _Flanders_ to whom he was contracted.

Sir _Mer._ Good lack--ay, ay, he's distracted, it seems.

_Page._ See how he kneels to her! stand off, and do but mind him.

_Mir._ Rise, Sir,--you'l ruin me--dissemble if you love--or you can ne'er be happy.

[In a low Voice, and raising him.

_Prince._ My Transport is too high for a Disguise--give me some hope, promise me some Relief, or at your Feet I'll pierce a wounded Heart.

_Mir._ Rise, and hope for all you wish: Alas, he faints-- [She takes him up, he falls upon her Bosom.

_Page._ Hold him fast, Madam, between your Arms, and he'll recover presently. Stand all away.--

_Prince._ Oh! tell me, wilt thou bless my Youth and Love? Oh! swear, lest thou shouldst break--for Women wou'd be G.o.ds, but for Inconstancy.

_Page._ See, he begins to come to himself again--keep off--

_Mir._ You have a thousand Charms that may secure you--The Ceremony of my Nuptials is every Evening celebrated, the noise of which draws all the Town together; be here in Masquerade, and I'll contrive it so, that you shall speak with me this Night alone.

_Prince._ So, now let my Soul take Air--

L. _Blun._ What pity 'tis so fine a Gentleman shou'd be thus.

_Mir._ You must be bringing home your Fops to me, and see what comes of it.

[As she pa.s.ses out.

Sir _Morg._ Fops! I thought him no more a Fop, than I do my own natural Cousin here.

[Ex. _Mir._ in Scorn.

_Prince._ Where am I? [The _Page_ has whispered him.

Sir _Mer._ Why, here, Sir, here, at Sir _Morgan Blunder's_ Lodging in _Lincolns-Inn-Fields_.

<script>