Prince. Methought I slept upon her snowy Bosom, and dreamt I was in Heaven, where I claim’d her.
Sir Mer. Good lack aday—why, so you did, Sir, ha, ha, ha.
Prince. And rav’d on Love; and talk’d abundance of Nonsense.
Sir Morg. Ha, ha, ha, by my Troth, and so you did, Sir.
Prince. I ask your Pardon, Sir, ’tis an infirmity I have that ever takes me at the approach of a fine Woman, which made me so unwilling to see your Lady.
Sir Morg. Lookye, I ask your Pardon heartily, or so, d’ye see—and am sorry you are not in a Condition to visit her often.
Prince. I shall be better when I am us’d to her; ’tis the first time only affects me.
Sir Morg. Pray, Sir, be pleas’d to use your self to her, or so, d’ye see—she’s a civil Person, and a Person of Quality before I marry’d her, d’ye see.
L. Blun. My Son tells you Truth, Sir.
Prince. Madam, I doubt it not, pray beg her Pardon, and do you give me yours. Bows and kisses her Hand and goes out.