Mir. Lejere! How very feeble do old Lovers charm! Only the new and gay have pow’r to warm—How shall I put him off? For now my ambitious Love declares for Frederick; ’tis great to enslave a Prince. Aside.
—Lejere—wait till I give the word—perhaps it may be late—go mix your self i’th’ Crowd, you may be else suspected— Goes from him.
Ter. I have a shreud guess that this should be my Man by his Shape, and Mein. Looking round about George.
Let me see—What’s this written on his Back?—To be lett ready furnish’d— Reading it.
A very good hearing: So ho, ho, ho, who’s within here? Claps him on the Back.
Geo. Who’s there? Exit Olivia.
Ter. Love and Fortune.
Geo. Two very good Friends of mine, prithee who art thou that bring’st ’em?
Ter. A wandring Nymph, that has had a swinging Character of your Person and Parts—if thou be’st the Man, prithee, dear Stranger, let me see thy Face; and if I’m not mistaken, ’tis ten to one, but we may go near to strike up some odd Bargain or other.
Geo. And I am as likely a Fellow for some odd Bargain or other, as ever you met with—Look ye, am I the Man?