Goodness?--and hast thou, my Boy, so much Wit? Why, this is something
now.--Well, he was ever the best and sweetest-natur'd Youth.--Why, what
a notable Wag's this? and is it true, my Boy, hah?

_Lean._ Yes, Sir, I had told you so before, had you permitted me to
speak.

Sir _Pat._ Well, Madam, he is only fit for your excellent Ladyship, he
is the prettiest civillest Lad.--Well, go thy ways; I shall never see
the like of thee; no--Ingenuously, the Boy's made for ever; two thousand
Pounds a Year, besides Money, Plate and Jewels; made for ever.--Well,
Madam, the satisfaction I take in this Alliance, has made me resolve to
give him immediately my Writings of all my Land in _Berkshire_, five
hundred Pounds a year, Madam: and I wou'd have you married this Morning
with my Daughter, so one Dinner and one Rejoicing will serve both.

L. _Kno._ That, Sir, we have already agreed upon.

Sir _Pat._ Well, I'll fetch the Writings. Come, _Isabella_, I'll not
trust you out of my sight to day.

[Ex. Sir _Pat._ and _Isab._

_Lean._ Well then, Madam, you are resolv'd upon this business of
Matrimony.

L. _Kno._ Was it not concluded between us, Sir, this Morning? and at the
near approach do you begin to fear?

_Lean._ Nothing, Madam, since I'm convinc'd of your Goodness.

L. _Kno._ You flatter, Sir, this is mere Adulation.

_Lean._ No, I am that wild Extravagant my Uncle render'd me, and cannot
live confin'd.

L. _Kno._ To one Woman you mean? I shall not stand with you for a
Mistress or two; I hate a dull morose unfashionable Blockhead to my
Husband; nor shall I be the first example of a suffering Wife, Sir.
Women were created poor obedient things.

_Lean._ And can you be content to spare me five or six nights in a week?

L. _Kno._ Oh, you're too reasonable.

_Lean._ And for the rest, if I get drunk, perhaps I'll give to you: yet
in my drink I'm damn'd ill-natur'd too, and may neglect my Duty; perhaps
shall be so wicked, to call you cunning, deceitful, jilting, base, and
swear you have undone me, swear you have ravish'd from my faithful Heart
all that cou'd make it bless'd or happy.

Enter _Lucretia_ weeping.

L. _Kno._ How now, _Lucretia_!

_Lucr._ Oh Madam, give me leave to kneel before, and tell you, if you
pursue the Cruelty I hear you're going to commit, I am the most lost,
most wretched Maid that breathes; we two have plighted Faiths, and
shou'd you marry him, 'twere so to sin as Heaven would never pardon.