Sir _Geo._ Agreed; I think I see Sir _Francis_ yonder. (_Exit._ _Cha._ _Marplot_, you must excuse me, I am engag'd. (_Exit._ _Marpl._ Engag'd, Egad I'll engage my Life, I'll know what your Engagement is. (_Exit._ _Miran._ (_Coming out of a Chair._) Let the Chair wait: My Servant, That dog'd Sir _George_ said he was in the Park. _Enter _Patch_._ Ha! Mis _Patch_ alone, did not you tell me you had contriv'd a way to bring _Isabinda_ to the Park? _Patch._ Oh, Madam, your Ladiship can't imagine what a wretched Disappointment we have met with: Just as I had fetch'd a Suit of my Cloaths for a Disguise: comes my old Master into his Closet, which is right against her Chamber Door; this struck us into a terrible Fright--At length I put on a Grave Face, and ask'd him if he was at leisure for his Chocolate, in hopes to draw him out of his Hole; but he snap'd my Nose off, No, I shall be busie here this two Hours; at which my poor Mistress seeing no way of Escape, order'd me to wait on your Ladiship with the sad Relation. _Miran._ Unhappy _Isabinda!_ Was ever any thing so unaccountable as the Humour of Sir _Jealousie Traffick_. _Patch._ Oh, Madam, it's his living so long in _Spain_, he vows he'll spend half his Estate, but he'll be a Parliament-Man, on purpose to bring in a Bill for Women to wear Veils, and the other odious _Spanish_ Customs--He swears it is the height of Impudence to have a Woman seen Bare-fac'd even at Church, and scarce believes there's a true begotten Child in the City. _Miran._ Ha, ha, ha, how the old Fool torments himself! Suppose he could introduce his rigid Rules--does he think we cou'd not match them in Contrivance? No, no; Let the Tyrant Man make what Laws he will, if there's a Woman under the Government, I warrant she finds a way to break 'em: Is his Mind set upon the _Spaniard_ for his Son-in-law still? _Patch._ Ay, and he expects him by the next Fleet, which drives his Daughter to Melancholy and Despair: But, Madam, I find you retain the same gay, cheerful Spirit you had, when I waited on your Ladiship.--My Lady is mighty good-humour'd too, and I have found a way to make Sir _Jealousie_ believe I am wholly in his Interest, when my real Design is to serve her; he makes me her Jaylor, and I set her at Liberty. _Miran._ I know thy Prolifick Brain wou'd be of singular Service to her, or I had not parted with thee to her Father. _Patch._ But, Madam, the Report is that you are going to marry your Guardian. _Miran._ It is necessary such a Report shou'd be, _Patch_. _Patch._ But is it true, Madam? _Miran._ That's not absolutely necessary. _Patch._ I thought it was only the old Strain, coaxing him still for your own, and railing at all the young Fellows about Town; in my Mind now, you are as ill plagu'd with your Guardian, Madam, as my Lady is with her Father.