La. Lov. Yes, he shall be mine! Let Law, and Rules, confine the creeping Stoick, the cold lifeless Hermit, or the Dissembling Brethren of Broad Hats, and narrow Bands; I am a Libertine, and being so, I love my Husband's Son, and will enjoy him.
Mar. There's a Rant for you! Oh Lord! Mr. Praiseall, look how Mrs. Betty's surpriz'd: Well, she doth a silent Surprize the best i'th' World; I must kiss her, I cannot help it, 'tis incomparable! Now speak Mrs Betty, now speak.
Betty. My Master's Son just Married to a Celebrated Beauty, with which he comes slowly on, and beneath this Courteous Roof rests this Night his wearied Head.
La. Lov.——Let me have Musick then, to melt him down; he comes and meets this Face to charm him. 'Tis done! 'Tis done! By Heav'n, I cannot bear the reflected Glories of those Eyes, all other Beauties fly before me.
Betty. But Isabella is——
Mar. Now Betty's doubting——Dear Mrs Knight, in this Speech, stamp as Queen Statira does, that always gets a Clap; and when you have ended, run off, thus, as fast as you can drive. O Gad! Duce take your confounded Stumbling Stage. [Stumbles.
Mr. Prais. Oh! Madam!
Mar. Hush! Hush! 'Tis nothing! Come Madam.
La. Lov. No more, he is mine, I have him fast: Oh! The Extasie!
Mar. Now Stamp, and Hug your self, Mrs. Knight: Oh! The strong Extasie!