Lady L. I need not tell my griefs, which my father's death made a fair pretence for; he left me sole heiress and executrix to three thousand pounds a year: at last, my love for this single dissembler turned to a hatred of the whole sex; and, resolving to divert my melancholy, I went to travel. Here I will play my last scene; then retire to my country-house, and live solitary. We shall have that old impotent lecher, Smuggler, here to-night; I have a plot to swinge him, and his precise nephew, Vizard.
Parly. I think, madam, you manage every body that comes in your way.
Lady L. No, Parly; those men, whose pretensions I found just and honourable, I fairly dismissed, by letting them know my firm resolutions never to marry, But those villains, that would attempt my honour, I've seldom failed to manage.
Parly. What d'ye think of the colonel, madam? I suppose his designs are honourable.
Lady L. That man's a riddle; there's something of honour in his temper that pleases; I'm sure he loves me too, because he's soon jealous, and soon satisfied.—But hang him, I have teased him enough—Besides, Parly, I begin to be tired of my revenge: but this buss and guinea I must maul once more. I'll hansel his woman's clothes for him. Go, get me pen and ink; I must write to Vizard too.
| Fortune, this once assist me as before: |
| Two such machines can never work in vain, |
| As thy propitious wheel, and my projecting brain. |
| [Exeunt. |
ACT THE FOURTH.
SCENE I
Covent Garden.
Enter Sir H. Wildair and Colonel Standard, meeting.