Maun. Ah, that grasping hard, Sir, is a very bad Sign.
Sir Pat. How does my good, my dearest Lady Fancy?
L. Fan. Something better now, give me more Air,—that dismal Larum Death-watch had almost kill’d me.
Sir Pat. Ah precious Creature, how she afflicts her self for me.—Come, let’s walk into the Dining-room, ’tis more airy, from thence into my Study, and make thy self Mistress of that Fortune I have design’d thee, thou best of Women.
Exeunt, [leading her].
[ ACT V.]
[ Scene I.] [A Room in Sir Patient Fancy’s House.] A Table, and six Chairs.
Enter Isabella reading a Letter, Betty tricking her.
Isab. How came you by this Letter?
Bet. Miss Fanny receiv’d it by a String from his Window, by which he took up that you writ to him this Morning.