And tender Sighs her Bosom warm;
A softness in her Eyes appear,
Unusual Pains she feels from every Charm:
To Woods and Echoes now she cries,[bis.]
For Modesty to speak denies.
Aria. Come, help to undress me, for I’ll to this Mountebank, to know what success I shall have with my Cavalier. [Unpins her things before a great Glass that is fasten’d.
Luc. You are resolv’d then to give him admittance?
Aria. Where’s the danger of a handsom young Fellow?
Luc. But you don’t know him, Madam.
Aria. But I desire to do, and time may bring it about without Miracle.