Sir Geo. 'Tis something indecent to turn ones Back upon a Lady; but you command and I obey. (Turns his Back.) Come, Madam, begin—
Miran. First then it was my unhappy Lot to see you at Paris (Draws back a little while and speaks) at a Ball upon a Birth-Day; your Shape and Air charm'd my Eyes; your Wit and Complaisance my Soul, and from that fatal Night I lov'd you. (Drawing back.) And when you left the Place, Grief seiz'd me so— No Rest my Heart, no Sleep my Eyes cou'd know.—
Last I resolv'd a hazardous Point to try,
And quit the Place in search of Liberty.
(Exit.
Sir Geo. Excellent— I hope she's Handsome— Well, Now, Madam, to the other two Things: Your Name, and where you live?— I am a Gentleman, and this Confession will not be lost upon me.— Nay, prithee don't weep, but go on—for I find my Heart melts in thy Behalf—speak quickly or I shall turn about— Not yet.— Poor Lady, she expects I shou'd comfort her; and to do her Justice, she has said enough to encourage me. (Turns about.) Ha? gone! The Devil, jilted? Why, what a Tale has she invented—of Paris, Balls, and Birth-Days.— Egad I'd give Ten Guineas to know who this Gipsie is.— A Curse of my Folly— I deserve to lose her; what Woman can forgive a Man that turns his Back.
The Bold and Resolute, in Love and War,
To Conquer take the Right, and swiftest way;
The boldest Lover soonest gains the Fair,
As Courage makes the rudest Force obey,
Take no denial, and the Dames adore ye,
Closely pursue them and they fall before ye.
The End of the First ACT.
Enter Sir Francis Gripe, Miranda.
Sir Fran.
HA, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.