Man the Sun shines on.

_Will._ The Reason of this mighty Joy.

_Belv._ See how kindly she invites me to deliver her from the threaten'd
Violence of her Brother-- will you not assist me?

_Will._ I know not what thou mean'st, but I'll make one at any Mischief
where a Woman's concerned-- but she'll be grateful to us for the Favour,
will she not?

_Belv._ How mean you?

_Will._ How should I mean? Thou know'st there's but one way for a Woman
to oblige me.

_Belv._ Don't prophane-- the Maid is nicely virtuous.

_Will._ Who pox, then she's fit for nothing but a Husband; let her e'en
go, Colonel.

_Fred._ Peace, she's the Colonel's Mistress, Sir.

_Will._ Let her be the Devil; if she be thy Mistress, I'll serve
her-- name the way.

_Belv._ Read here this Postscript. [Gives him a Letter.

_Will._ [Reads.] _At Ten at night-- at the Garden-Gate-- of which, if I
cannot get the Key, I will contrive a way over the Wall-- come attended
with a Friend or two._-- Kind heart, if we three cannot weave a String
to let her down a Garden-Wall,'twere pity but the Hangman wove one for
us all.

_Fred._ Let her alone for that: your Woman's Wit, your fair kind Woman,
will out-trick a Brother or a Jew, and contrive like a Jesuit in
Chains-- but see, _Ned Blunt_ is stoln out after the Lure of a Damsel.
[Ex. _Blunt_ and _Lucet._

_Belv._ So he'll scarce find his way home again, unless we get him cry'd
by the Bell-man in the Market-place, and 'twou'd sound prettily-- a lost
_English_ Boy of Thirty.

_Fred._ I hope 'tis some common crafty Sinner, one that will fit him;
it may be she'll sell him for _Peru_, the Rogue's sturdy and would work
well in a Mine; at least I hope she'll dress him for our Mirth; cheat
him of all, then have him well-favour'dly bang'd, and turn'd out naked
at Midnight.

_Will._ Prithee what Humour is he of, that you wish him so well?

_Belv._ Why, of an _English_ Elder Brother's Humour, educated in a
Nursery, with a Maid to tend him till Fifteen, and lies with his
Grand-mother till he's of Age; one that knows no Pleasure beyond riding
to the next Fair, or going up to _London_ with his right Worshipful
Father in Parliament-time; wearing gay Clothes, or making honourable
Love to his Lady Mother's Landry-Maid; gets drunk at a Hunting-Match,
and ten to one then gives some Proofs of his Prowess-- A pox upon him,
he's our Banker, and has all our Cash about him, and if he fail we are
all broke.

_Fred._