Oliv. I’ll tell you Tales of Love, and sing you Songs.
Mir. Thy Voice, ’tis true, can charm a thousand ways; but Lovers time their Joys, these for the Day, those for the lovely Night. And when they would be silently in love, have Musick of soft Sighs and gentler Whispers.
Oliv. Oh, Love inspires all this—What shall I do? Aside.
Mir. Nay, think not because I sent for you alone, while Night and Silence favour Lovers Stealths, to take advantage of my yielding Heart.
Oliv. I wou’d to Heaven she were in earnest now.
A Noise. Enter Manage.
Man. Oh, hide your Favourite, Madam—do you hear.
Mir. A jealous Lover only, comes in such a Storm—Dear, to my Heart, whose Safety is my Life. Submit to be conceal’d—but where—Oh Heavens, he comes—’Tis for you I fear— They search for a place.
Man. He comes—
Mir. Here, let my Train secure you—Till now I never found the right Use of long Trains and Farthingals. She kneels, Man. puts her Train over Olivia.