Mar. Now, Mr. Powel, my Rhime with a Boon Grace.
Fast. My scorching Raptures make a Boy of Jove;
That ramping God shall learn of me to love.
Mar. How does your Lordship like these Lines?
L. Whiff. Madam, they exceed any of our modern Flights, as far as a Description of Homer's does Mr. Settle's, Poet in Ordinary for my Lord Mayor's Show.
Mr. Prais. After what my Lord has said, I dare not speak, but I am all Admiration,
Mar. to Mrs. Knight.) Madam I beg your pardon for this Interruption; my Friends here will treat me with Flattery.
La. Lov. to Fastin.) And you will be so vain to believe it none. (aside.) Nor Isabella shall not——
Fast. Be nam'd only for Punishment, her Adultery with Amorous is plain, therefore she shall be disgrac'd, and dye.
Mr. Awd. Who had told him this?
Mar. Why Betty had told him, tho' Isabella' was Innocent as to the matter of Fact. Indeed Fate over-rul'd her Inclination: I will not answer you another Question, I protest: find it out as the rest of the World does.