Myrt. Never was taken in so odd a way in my life—pray lead me! Oh! I was talking here—(pray carry me)—to my cousin Cimberton's young lady.
Mrs. Seal. [Aside.] My cousin Cimberton's young lady! How zealous he is, even in his extremity, for the match! A right Cimberton. [Cimberton and Lucinda lead him, as one in pain.
Cimb. Pox! Uncle, you will pull my ear off.
Luc. Pray, uncle! you will squeeze me to death.
Mrs. Seal. No matter, no matter—he knows not what he does.—Come, sir, shall I help you out?
Myrt. By no means! I'll trouble nobody but my young cousins here. [They lead him off.
Phil. But pray, madam, does your ladyship intend that Mr. Cimberton shall really marry my young mistress at last? I don't think he likes her.
Mrs. Seal. That's not material! Men of his speculation are above desires—but be as it may. Now I have given old Sir Geoffry the trouble of coming up to sign and seal, with what countenance can I be off?
Phil. As well as with twenty others, madam. It is the glory and honour of a great fortune to live in continual treaties, and still to break off: it looks great, madam.
Mrs. Seal. True, Phillis—yet to return our blood again into the Cimbertons is an honour not to be rejected—But were not you saying that Sir John Bevil's creature, Humphry, has been with Mr. Sealand?