Geo. Perhaps I may before the Morning’s dawn.
Prince. Ha, prove it here—here, in this very House!
Geo. Ay, here, Sir.
Prince. What, in my Lodgings will she receive her Spark—by Heaven, were he the darling Son of a Monarch, an Empire’s Hope, and Joy of all the Fair, he shou’d not live to rifle me of Peace.—Come, shew me this destin’d Victim to my Rage.
Geo. No, my Revenge is only comical—If you wou’d see how Woman can dissemble, come on, and follow me.
Prince. What, disturb her Rest! Didst thou not see her fainting with the Fatigues this Night had given her, and begg’d me I would leave her to Repose?
Geo. Yes, and wonder’d at her Art; and when you begg’d to watch by her Bed-side, with what dear Promises she put you off; while every word fell [feebly] from her Tongue, as if’t had been her last, so very sick she was—till you were gone—Hark—a Door opens—I will obscure the Lights. Puts away the Lights.
Enter Olivia. They retire a little.
Oliv. Was ever Maid so [near to being] undone? Oh Heavens! in bed with the dear Man I love, ready to be betray’d by every Sigh. George peeps.
Geo. ’Tis Olivia.