—Dull in comparison of Love, I mean;
I never lov’d before; old Oliver I suffer’d for my Interest,
And ’tis some Greatness, to be Mistress to the best;
But this mighty Pleasure comes a propos,
To sweeten all the heavy Toils of Empire.
Gill. So it does, an’t please your Highness.
L. Lam. Go, let him know I’m coming—Madam, I must beg your Pardon; you hear, my Lord to morrow goes on his great Expedition; and, for any thing we know, may fall a glorious Sacrifice to the Commonwealth; therefore ’tis meet I offer up some Prayers for his Safety, and all my leisure Hours ’twixt this and that, will be too few—Your humble Servant, Madam. [[Ex. L. Lam. and Gill.]
L. Fleet. My Dear, I’ll leave you too, my time of Devotion is come, and Heav’n will stay for no Body; where are my People? is my Coach ready, or my Chair?
Fleet. Go in your Chair, my Love, lest you catch cold.
L. Fleet. And [light your Flambeaus],—I love to have my Chair surrounded with Flambeaus.