Wives.
[_Lov._ sees 'em, and starts.

_Lov._ Hah, what have we here?-- Women-- faith, and handsome too-- I
never saw a Form more excellent; who e'er they are, they seem of
Quality.-- By Heav'n, I cannot take my Eyes from her.
[Pointing to L. _Lamb_.

_L. Lam._ Ha, he's yonder, my Heart begins to fail,
My trembling Limbs refusing to support me--
His Eyes seem fix'd on mine too; ah, I faint-- [Leans on _Des_.

_Gill._ My Lady's Coach, _William_-- quickly, she faints.

_Lov._ Madam, can an unfortunate Stranger's aid add any thing to the
recovery of so much Beauty?
[Bowing, and holding her.

_L. Lam._ Ah, wou'd he knew how much! [Aside.

_Gill._ Support her, Sir, till her Ladyship's Coach comes-- I beseech
ye.

_Lov._ Not _Atlas_ bore up Heaven with greater Pride.

_L. Lam._ --I beg your Pardon, Sir, for this Disorder,
That has occasion'd you so great a Trouble--
You seem a Gentleman-- and consequently
May need some Service done you; name the way,
I shall be glad to let you see my Gratitude.

_Lov._ If there be ought in me, that merits this amazing Favour from
you, I owe my Thanks to Nature that endow'd me with something in my Face
that spoke my Heart.

_L. Lam._ Heaven! How he looks and speaks-- [To _Desbro_, aside.

_L. Des._ Oh, these Heroicks, Madam, have the most charming Tongues.

_L. Lam._ Pray come to me-- and ask for any of my Officers, and you
shall have admittance--

_Lov._ Who shall I ask for, Madam? for I'm yet ignorant to whom I owe
for this great Bounty.

_L. Lam._ Not know me! Thou art indeed a Stranger.
I thought I'd been so elevated above the common Crowd,
it had been visible to all Eyes who I was.

_Lov._ Pardon my Ignorance.
My Soul conceives ye all that Heaven can make ye,
Of Great, of Fair and Excellent;
But cannot guess a Name to call you by
But such as would displease ye--
My Heart begins to fail, and by her Vanity
I fear she's one of the new Race of Quality:
--But be she Devil, I must love that Form. [Aside.

_L. Lam._ Hard Fate of Greatness, we so highly elevated
Are more expos'd to Censure than the little ones,
By being forc'd to speak our Passions first.
--Is my Coach ready?

_Page._ It waits your Honour.

_L. Lam._ I give you leave to visit me-- ask for the General's Lady,
if my Title be not by that time alter'd.

_Lov._ Pistols and Daggers to my Heart-- 'tis so.

_L. Lam._ Adieu, Sir.

[Ex. all bu