Wild. Ah, Charles, two such bewitching Faces wou’d give thy Heart the lye:—But Love divides us, and I must into Church. Adieu till Night. [Exit.
Sir Char. And I must follow, to resolve my Heart in what it dreads to learn. Here, my Cloke. [Takes his Cloke from his Man, and puts it on.] Hah, Church is done! See, they are coming forth!
Enter People cross the Stage, as from Church; amongst ‘em Sir
Anthony Meriwill, follow’d by Sir Timothy Treat-all.
Hah, my Uncle! He must not see me here.
[Throws his Cloke over his Face.
Sir Tim. What my old Friend and Acquaintance, Sir Anthony Meriwill!
Sir Anth. Sir Timothy Treat-all!
Sir Tim. Why, how long have you been in Town, Sir?
Sir Anth. About three days, Sir.
Sir Tim. Three days, and never came to dine with me! ‘tis unpardonable! What, you keep close to the Church, I see: You are for the Surplice still, old Orthodox you; the Times cannot mend you, I see.
Sir Anth. No, nor shall they mar me, Sir.