Volume Iv Part 107 (2/2)

_Geo._ I question it not, Sir, and am proud of the Honour of kissing your Hands.

_Ter._ Yonder's a handsom Gentleman.

_Oliv._ My Brother _George_, as I live, 'tis as I cou'd wish.

[Aside.

Enter _Welborn_.

_Wel._ _Lejere!_

_Geo._ _Welborn!_ Welcome from _Paris_, I heard of your arrival from Prince _Frederick_.

_Wel._ Yes, I am come to my Destruction, Friend.

_Geo._ Ay, thou'rt to be marry'd, I hear, to a _Welch_ Fortune.

_Wel._ Though Matrimony be a sufficient Curse, yet that's not the worst--I am fall'n most d.a.m.nably in love, since I arriv'd, with a young Creature I saw in the _Mall_ t'other Night; of Quality she was, I dare swear, by all that was about her; but such a Shape! a Face! a Wit!

a Mind, as in a moment quite subdu'd my Heart: she had another Lady with her, whom (d.o.g.g.i.ng her Coach) I found to be a Neighbour of mine, and Grand-Daughter to the Lady _Youthly_; but who my Conqueror was I never since could learn.

_Oliv._ 'Slife, _Teresia_, yonder's the handsom Fellow that entertain'd us with so much Wit, on _Thursday_ last in the _Mall_.

_Ter._ What, when you chang'd your Breeches for Petticoats at my Lodgings.

_Oliv._ That Night, and ever since, I have felt a sort of a Tendre for him.

_Ter._ As I do for his Friend--Pray Heav'n he be not marry'd! I fear he has laid an Imbargo on my Heart, before it puts out of the Port.

_Geo._ Are you not for the Ba.s.set?

_Wel._ No, I've business at the Ball to night; besides, my Lady _Blunder_ has a Quarrel to me for last Night's Debauch; I'll wait on you in the Morning.

[Exit _Welborn_.

_Geo._ Well, you to your Business, and I to mine.

[Speaks as the rest go out.

Let the dull trading Fool by Business live, Statesmen by Plots; the Courtier cringe to thrive; The Fop of Noise and Wealth be cullied on, And purchase no one Joy by being undone, Whilst I by n.o.bler careless ways advance, Since Love and Fortune are acquir'd by Chance.

[Exeunt Omnes.

_The End of the Second Act._

A Song, sung by Sir _Rowland_ in the second Act.

To _TERESIA_.

_Though the Young prize _Cupid's_ Fire, 'Tis more valu'd by the Old; The Sun's Warmth we now admire, More than when the Season's cold._

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