Char. My better Genius, thou hast reviv'd my drooping Soul: I'll about it instantly. Come to my Lodgings, and we'll concert Matters.
(Exeunt.
SCENE a Garden Gate open, Scentwell waiting within.
Enter Sir George Airy.
Sir Geo. So, this is the Gate, and most invitingly open: If there shou'd be a Blunderbuss here now, what a dreadful Ditty wou'd my Fall make for Fools; and what a Jest for the Wits; how my Name wou'd be roar'd about Streets. Well I'll venture all.
Scentw. Hist, hist, Sir George Airy—
(Enters.
Sir Geo. A Female Voice, thus far I'm safe, my Dear.
Scentw. No, I'm not your Dear, but I'll conduct you to her, give me your Hand; you must go thro' many a dark Passage and dirty Step before you arrive—