ov'd Daughter, and pursu'd by the hated
Mother, whom if I refuse will ruin all my hopes of thee.

_Lucr._ Refuse her! I hope you have more Wit.

_Lean._ _Lucretia_, cou'd she make a Monarch of me, I cou'd not marry
her.

_Lucr._ And you wou'd be so wise to tell her so?

_Lean._ I wou'd no more abuse her, than I cou'd love her.

_Lucr._ Yet that last must be done.

_Lean._ How!

_Lucr._ Dost believe me so wicked to think I mean in earnest? No, tell
her a fine Story of Love and Liking, gaze on her, kiss her Hands, and
sigh, commend her Face and Shape, swear she's the Miracle of the Age for
Wit, cry up her Learning, vow you were an Ass not to be sensible of her
Perfections all this while; what a Coxcomb, to doat upon the Daughter
when such Charms were so visible in the Mother? Faith, she'll believe
all this.

_Lean._ It may be so, but what will all this serve for?

_Lucr._ To give us time and opportunity to deceive her, or I'm mistaken.

_Lean._ I cannot teach my Tongue so much Deceit.

_Lucr._ You may be a Fool, and cry, Indeed forsooth I cannot love, for
alas I have lost my Heart, and am unworthy of your proffer'd
Blessings--do, and see her marry me in spite to this Fop _Easy_, this
Knight of Nonsense: no, no, dissemble me handsomely and like a
Gentleman, and then expect your good Fortune.

Enter _Antick_.

_Ant._ Madam, your Mother's coming.

_Lucr._ Away then, she must not see us together, she thinks you gone.

_Lean._ But must I carry off no Comfort with me?

_Lucr._ Will you expose me to the incens'd Jealousy of a Parent? go, or
I shall hate ye.
[Thrusts him out.

SCENE III. A Garden.

Enter _Maundy_ by dark: Opens the Garden-Door.

_Maun._ Now am I return'd to my old Trade again, fetch and carry my
Lady's Lovers; I was afraid when she had been married, these Night-works
wou'd have ended; but to say truth, there's a Conscience to be used in
all things, and there's no reason she should languish with an old Man
when a Young Man may be had.--The Door opens, he's come.--

Enter _Lodwick_.

I see you're a punctual Lover, Sir, pray follow me as softly as you can.

_Lod._ This is some one whom I perceive _Isabella_ has made the
Confident to our Amours.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. _Draws off, and discovers L. _Fancy_ in her Night-gown, in a
Chamber as by the dark._

L. _Fan._ Oh, the agreeable Confusion of a Lover high with expectation
of the approaching Bliss! What Tremblin