L. Gal. You are not.
Wild. I am, and am resolv’d to lose no more time on a peevish Woman, who values her Honour above her Lover. [He goes out.
L. Gal. Go, this is the noblest way of losing thee.
Clos. Must I not call him back?
L. Gal. No, if any honest Lover come, admit him; I will forget this
Devil. Fetch me some Jewels; the Company to night at Sir Timothy’s may
divert me.
[She sits down before her Glass.
Enter Boy.
Boy. Madam, one, Sir Anthony Meriwill, wou’d speak with your Ladyship.
L. Gal. Admit him; sure ‘tis Sir Charles his Uncle; if he come to
treat a Match with me for his Nephew, he takes me in a critical Minute.
Wou’d he but leave his whining, I might love him, if ‘twere but in
Revenge.
Enter Sir Anthony Meriwill and Sir Charles.
Sir. Anth. So, I have tutor’d the young Rogue, I hope he’ll learn in time. Good Day to your Ladyship; Charles [putting him forward] my Nephew here, Madam—Sirrah—notwithstanding your Ladyship’s Commands— Look how he stands now, being a mad young Rascal!—Gad, he wou’d wait on your Ladyship—A Devil on him, see if he’ll budge now—For he’s a brisk Lover, Madam, when he once begins. A Pox on him, he’ll spoil all yet.