Volume Iv Part 113 (1/2)

_Man._ Those whose Influence are always gracious to your Ladys.h.i.+p.

_Mir._ But where's the Prince? where's my ill.u.s.trious Lover?

_Man._ Waiting the Return of the Chair, Madam.

_Mir._ But my _Endimion_?--Is _Endimion_ safe?

_Man._ Madam, he is: I saw him in the Garden.

_Mir._ Then perish all the rest--Go send to search him out, and let him instantly be brought to me--Hah--_Lejere_.

Enter _George_.

_Geo._ Baud, stand aside--and do your Office yonder-- [Puts away _Manage_.

Why are you frighted, Madam, because I'm not the Lover you expected?

_Mir._ What Lover! be witness, Heaven--

_Geo._ That thou art false, false as the insatiate Seas, that smiling tempt the vain Adventurer, whom flattering, far from any saving there, swell their false Waves to a destructive Storm.

_Mir._ Why all this mighty Rage?--Because I disappointed you to night?

_Geo._ No, by Heaven, I dully cou'd have waited for the Hour; have hop'd, and wish'd, and languish'd out an Age. But, oh _Mirtilla_! Oh thou perjur'd Fair!--But vanish all the Softness of my Soul, I will be satirical.

_A Plague, a Torment, to your fickle s.e.x,_ _Those smiling, sighing, weeping Hypocrites._

_Mir._ And can you think my Flight is criminal? because I sav'd this worthless Life--for you--

_Geo._ What Innocence adorns her Tongue, and Eyes! while h.e.l.l and Furies give her Heart its motion. You know not where you are?

_Mir._ Perhaps I do not.

_Geo._ Swear, for thou'rt d.a.m.n'd already, and by what black Degrees I will unfold: When first I saw this gay, this glorious Mischief, though n.o.bly born, 'twas hid in mean Obscurity; the s.h.i.+ning Viper lay half dead with Poverty, I took it up, and laid it next my Heart, fed it, and call'd its faded Beauties back.

_Mir._ Confess'd; And what of this?

_Geo._ Confirm'd you mine, by all the Obligations Profuseness cou'd invent, or Love inspire.

_Mir._ And yet at your Return you found me marry'd to another.

_Geo._ Death and h.e.l.l! that was not yet the worst: You flatter'd me with some Pretence of Penitence; but on the Night, the dear destructive Night, you rais'd my Hopes to all distracting Love cou'd wish--that very Night--Oh, let me rave and die, and never think that Disappointment o'er!

_Mir._ What, you saw me courted at the Ball, perhaps.

_Geo._ Perhaps I saw it in your Chamber too. Breathless and panting, with new-acted Joys, the happy Lover lay--Oh _Mirtilla_!

_Mir._ Nay, if he knows it, I'll deny't no more. [Aside.

_Geo._ There is no Honesty in all thy Kind.

_Mir._ Or if there be, those that deal in't are weary of their Trade.