Ana. I say again, that even I, upright I, one of the new Saints, find a sort of a—a—I know not what—a kind of a Motion as it were—a stirring up—as a Man may say, to wickedness—Yea, verily it corrupteth the outward Man within me.
L. Des. Is this your Business, Sir, to rail against our Clothes, as if you intended to preach me into my Primitive Nakedness again?
Ana. Ah, the naked Truth is best; but, Madam, I have a little work of Grace to communicate unto you, please you to send your Page away—
L. Des. Withdraw—sure I can make my Party good with one wicked Elder:—Now, Sir, your Bus’ness. [Ex. Tom.
—Be brief.
Ana. As brief as you please—but—who in the sight of so much [Beau - - ty]—can think of any Bus’ness but the Bus’ness—Ah! hide those tempting Breasts,—Alack, how smooth and warm they are— [Feeling ’em, and sneering.
L. Des. How now, have you forgot your Function?
Ana. Nay, but I am mortal Man also, and may fall seven times a day—Yea verily, I may fall seven times a day—Your Ladyship’s Husband is old,—and where there is a good excuse for falling,—ah, there the fall—ing—is excusable.—And might I but fall with your Ladyship,—might I, I say.—
L. Des. How, this from you, the Head o’ th’ Church Militant, the very Pope of Presbytery?
Ana. Verily, the Sin lieth in the Scandal; therefore most of the discreet pious Ladies of the Age chuse us, upright Men, who make a Conscience of a Secret, the Laity being more regardless of their Fame.—In sober sadness, the Place—inviteth, the Creature tempting, and the Spirit very violent within me. [Takes and ruffles her.