Sir _Geo._ And this Agreement is to be perform'd to Day. Sir _Fran._ Aye, aye, the sooner the better, poor Fool, how _Miranda_ and I shall laugh at him--Well, Sir _George_, Ha, ha, ha, take the last sound of your Guineas, Ha, ha, ha. (_Chinks 'em_.) (Exit. _Miran._ (_Peeping_.) Sure he does not know I am _Miranda_. Sir _Geo._ A very extraordinary Bargain I have made truly, if she should be really in Love with this old Cuff now--Psha, that's morally impossible--but then what hopes have I to succeed, I never spoke to her-- _Miran._ (_Peeping_.) Say you so? Then I am safe. Sir _Geo._ What tho' my Tongue never spoke, my Eyes said a thousand Things, and my Hopes flatter'd me hers answer'd 'em. If I'm lucky--if not, 'tis but a hundred Guineas thrown away. (__Miranda_ and _Patch_ come forwards._ _Miran._ Upon what Sir _George?_ Sir _Geo._ Ha! my _Incognito_--upon a Woman, Madam. _Miran._ They are the worst Things you can deal in, and damage the soonest; your very Breath destroys 'em, and I fear you'll never see your Return, Sir _George_, Ha, ha! Sir _Geo._ Were they more brittle than _China_, and drop'd to pieces with a Touch, every Atom of her I have ventur'd at, if she is but Mistress of thy Wit, ballances Ten times the Sum--Prithee let me see thy Face. _Miran._ By no means, that may spoil your Opinion of my Sense-- Sir _Geo._ Rather confirm it, Madam. _Patch._ So rob the Lady of your Gallantry, Sir. Sir _Geo._ No Child, a Dish of Chocolate in the Morning never spoils my Dinner; the other Lady, I design a set Meal; so there's no danger-- _Miran._ Matrimony! Ha, ha, ha; what Crimes have you committed against the God of Love, that he should revenge 'em so severely to stamp Husband upon your Forehead-- Sir _Geo._ For my Folly in having so often met you here, without pursuing the Laws of Nature, and exercising her command--But I resolve e'er we part now, to know who you are, where you live, and what kind of Flesh and Blood your Face is; therefore unmask and don't put me to the trouble of doing it for you. _Miran._ My Face is the same Flesh and Blood with my Hand, Sir _George_, which if you'll be so rude to provoke. Sir _Geo._ You'll apply it to my Cheek--The Ladies Favours are always Welcome; but I must have that Cloud withdrawn. (_Taking hold of her_.) Remember you are in the _Park_, Child, and what a terrible thing would it be to lose this pretty white Hand. _Miran._ And how will it sound in a _Chocolate-House_, that Sir _George Airy_ rudely pull'd off a Ladies Mask, when he had given her his Honour, that he never would, directly or indirectly endeavour to know her till she gave him Leave. _Patch._ I wish we were safe out. (_Aside._ Sir _Geo._ But if that Lady thinks fit to pursue and meet me at every turn like some troubl'd Spirit, shall I be blam'd if I inquire into the Reality? I would have nothing dissatisfy'd in a Female Shape. _Miran._ What shall I do? (_Pause._