_Wit._ As a Man ought to love, with a good substantial Passion, without
any design but that of right-down honest Injoyment.

_Lod._ Ay, now we understand thee, this is something. Ah Friend, I had
such an Adventure last Night.--You may talk of your Intrigues and
substantial Pleasures, but if any of you can match mine,--Egad, I'll
forswear Womankind.

_Lean._ An Adventure! prithee where?

Sir _Cred._ What, last Night, when you rescued me from the Bilbo-Blades!
indeed ye look'd a little furiously.

_Lod._ I had reason, I was just then come out of a Garden from fighting
with a Man whom I found with my Mistress; and I had at least known who't
had been, but for the coming of those Rascals that set on you, who
parted us, whilst he made his escape in the Croud.

_Wit._ Death! that was I, who for fear of being known got away: was't he
then that I fought with, and whom I learnt lov'd _Isabella_?
[Aside.

_Lod._ You must know, Gentlemen, I have a sort of a matrimonial Kindness
for a very pretty Woman, she whom I tell you I disturb'd in the Garden,
and last night she made me an Assignation in her Chamber: when I came to
the Garden-door by which I was to have admittance, I found a kind of
Necessary call'd a Baudy Waiting-Woman, whom I follow'd, and thought she
wou'd have conducted me to the right Woman; but I was luckily and in the
dark led into a Lady's Chamber, who took me for a Lover she expected:
I found my happy mistake, and wou'd not undeceive her.

_Wit._ This could be none but _Lucia_. [Aside.
--Well, Sir, and what did you do there?

_Lod._ Do! why, what dost think? all that a Man inspir'd by Love cou'd
do, I followed all the dictates of Nature, Youth, and Vigor.

_Wit._ Oh, hold, my Heart--or I shall kill the Traitor. [Aside.

Sir _Cred._ Follow'd all the dictates of Nature, Youth and Vigor!
prithee what's that?

_Lod._ I kiss'd a thousand times her balmy Lips, and greedily took in
the nimble Sighs she breath'd into my Soul.

_Wit._ Oh, I can scarce contain my self. [Aside.

Sir _Cred._ Pshaw, is that all, Man?

_Lod._ I clasp'd her lovely Body in my Arms,
And laid my Bosom to her panting Breast.
Trembling she seem'd all Love and soft Desire,
And I all Burnings in a youthful Fire.

Sir _Cred._ Bless us, the Man's in a Rapture!

_Wit._ Damnation on them both.

Sir _Cred._ Well, to the point, Man: what didst do all this while?

_Lean._ Faith, I fancy he did not sleep, Sir _Cred