Geo. You would not credit what you saw last Night.
Prince. Nor wou’d have lost that Night for all the Treasure the vast Ocean hides.
Geo. I wou’d not have a Man, so good and great, be made a Woman’s Property—There, Sir. Gives him the Billet.
Prince. I’ll not believe it her’s; there are a thousand ways to ruin Innocence; if she be false—she’s damn’d. Confirm me, and of course I shall despise her. You cure me, when you shew her worth my Scorn.
Geo. Will you be rul’d then, and believe it Friendship in me?
Prince. I will.
Geo. Give her, by Absence, but an Opportunity; feign some Excuse to leave the Town to day.
Prince. See where she comes—
Enter Mirtilla.
Adorn’d with all the beauteous Wonders of her Sex. The Gods of Love are playing in her Eyes, and give us Wounds from ev’ry graceful Motion. Ah, my Mirtilla! how shall I support the Absence of a many coming Hours, that languish, being from thee but a Moment?