Ter. What, when you chang’d your Breeches for Petticoats at my Lodgings.
Oliv. That Night, and ever since, I have felt a sort of for him.
Ter. As I do for his Friend—Pray Heav’n he be not marry’d! I fear he has laid an Imbargo on my Heart, before it puts out of the Port.
Geo. Are you not for the Basset?
Wel. No, I’ve business at the Ball to night; besides, my Lady Blunder has a Quarrel to me for last Night’s Debauch; I’ll wait on you in the Morning. Exit Welborn.
Geo. Well, you to your Business, and I to mine. Speaks as the rest go out.
Let the dull trading Fool by Business live,
Statesmen by Plots; the Courtier cringe to thrive;
The Fop of Noise and Wealth be cullied on,
And purchase no one Joy by being undone,