Bred. An Advocate for Love I am, And bring you such a Message from a Heart—
Bea. Meaning mine, dear Madam.
Bred. That when you hear it, you will pity it.
Bea. Or the Devil’s in her—
Dia. Sir, I have many Reasons to believe, It is my Fortune you pursue, not Person.
Bea. There is something in that, I must confess. [Behind him. But say what you will, Ned.
Bred. May all the Mischiefs of despairing Love Fall on me if it be.
Bea. That’s well enough—
Bred. No, were you born an humble Village-Maid,
That fed a Flock upon the neighbouring Plain;
With all that shining Vertue in your Soul,
By Heaven, I wou’d adore you—love you—wed you—
Though the gay World were lost by such a Nuptial.
[Bear. looks on him.
—This—I wou’d do, were I my Friend the Squire
[Recollecting.
Bea. Ay, if you were me—you might do what you pleas’d; but I’m of another mind.