Wild. Trivial to a Woman, Frank: no more; do you make as if you went to bed.—Laboir, do you feign to be drunk, and lie on the Hall-table: and when I give the sign, let me softly in.
Dres. Death, Sir, will you venture at such a time?
Wild. My Life and future Hope—I am resolv’d.
Let Politicians plot, let Rogues go on
In the old beaten Path of Forty one;
Let City Knaves delight in Mutiny,
The Rabble bow to old Presbytery;
Let petty States be to confusion hurl’d,
Give me but Woman, I’ll despise the World.
[Exeunt.
ACT IV.
SCENE I. A Dressing-Room.
Lady Galliard is discover’d in an undress at her Table, Glass and Toilette, Closet attending: As soon as the Scene draws off she rises from the Table as disturbed and out of Humour.
L. Gal. Come, leave your everlasting Chamber-maid’s Chat, your dull Road of Slandering by rote, and lay that Paint aside. Thou art fuller of false News, than an unlicens’d Mercury.
Clos. I have good Proof, Madam, of what I say.
L. Gal. Proof of a thing impossible!—Away.