Col. What, do you keep open house here? I found the street door as wide as it could gape.
Deb. Sir, we are all in a bustle, we have lodgers come to-night, the house full.
Col. Where's your mistress?
Deb. Prodigious busy with her company, but I'll tell Mrs. Martilla you are here, I believe she'll come to you.
[Exit.
Col. That will do as well. Poor Martilla! she's a very good girl, and I have lov'd her a great while. I think six months it is, since like a merciless highwayman, I made her deliver all she had about her; she begg'd hard, poor thing, I'd leave her one small bauble. Had I let her keep it, I believe she had still kept me. Cou'd women but refuse their ravenous lovers that one dear destructive moment, how long might they reign over them! But for a bane to both their joys and ours, when they have indulg'd us with such favours as make us adore them, they are not able to refuse us that one, which puts an end to our devotion.
Enter Martilla.
Col. Martilla, how dost thou do, my child?
Mart. As well as a losing gamester can.