Gay. The Devil I do—this is a damn’d Preparation to Love.
Old W. Why stand you gazing, Sir? A Woman’s Passion is like the Tide, it stays for no man when the hour is come—
Gay. I’m sorry I have took it at its Turning; I’m sure mine’s ebbing out as fast.
Old W. Will you not speak, Sir—will you not on?
Gay. I wou’d fain ask—a civil Question or two first.
Old W. You know too much Curiosity lost Paradise.
Gay. Why, there’s it now.
Old W. Fortune and Love invite you, if you dare follow me.
Gay. This is the first thing in Petticoats that ever dar’d me in vain. Were I but sure she were but human now—for sundry Considerations she might down—but I will on—
[She goes, he follows; both go out.