MILLA. O madam, why, so do I. And yet the creature loves me, ha, ha, ha! How can one forbear laughing to think of it? I am a sibyl if I am not amazed to think what he can see in me. I’ll take my death, I think you are handsomer, and within a year or two as young. If you could but stay for me, I should overtake you—but that cannot be. Well, that thought makes me melancholic.—Now I’ll be sad.
MRS. MAR. Your merry note may be changed sooner than you think.
MILLA. D’ye say so? Then I’m resolved I’ll have a song to keep up my spirits.
SCENE XII.
[To them] Mincing.
MINC. The gentlemen stay but to comb, madam, and will wait on you.
MILLA. Desire Mrs. — that is in the next room, to sing the song I would have learnt yesterday. You shall hear it, madam. Not that there’s any great matter in it—but ’tis agreeable to my humour.
SONG.
Set by Mr. John Eccles.
I
Love’s but the frailty of the mind
When ’tis not with ambition joined;
A sickly flame, which if not fed expires,
And feeding, wastes in self-consuming fires.