Mir. Come to my Bed, and press the Roses down; and lend more sweetness to ’em than they bring.
She leading him to her Bed, the Prince enters, with Lejere, holding his Sword in Hand; he takes hold of Olivia.
Prince. Love—thus I fling thy gaudy Fetters off, and am no more a Slave to faithless Beauty.
The Prince holding Olivia by the Bosom of her Coat, her Breast appears to Mirtilla.
Mir. [Ha! what do I see?]—Two Female rising Breasts. By Heav’n, a Woman.—Oh fortunate Mischance! This while George is arguing with the Prince not to hurt Olivia.
Prince. No, I will not hurt thee, cease thy trembling.
Mir. Oh, Sir, ’twere Sin to hurt the lovely Youth.
Prince. No, Madam, since I have taken back my Heart, I can present you with another Lover. Gives Olivia to her.
Mir. Ha! another Lover!—What means my Prince?
Prince. Eternally to leave you to your Frailty.