Prince. Lejere! dear Man of Luck—Some happy Star reign’d at thy glorious Birth; every thing is prosperous thou espousest.—How fares my Love, the Treasure of my Soul?
Man. Only fainting with the Fright, but she recovers.
Prince. My Chair there, quickly, that waits for me.—
Enter Chair; he puts her, and Manage into it.
Enter Olivia.
Carry ’em to Mr. Welborn’s, to my Lodgings there, and then return to me; for I am wondrous faint, and cannot walk.
Oliv. Ha! by my Life, my Man!
Prince. But if I might impose so much, Lejere, upon thy Friendship, I beg thou wouldst see her safely carry’d to my Lodgings at Welborn’s.
Geo. You shall command me, Sir. Exeunt Chair, George and Britton.
Oliv. You seem not well, Sir, pray repose upon my Arm a while.