_Patch._ And swears she shall neither see Sun nor Moon, till she is _Don Diego Babinetto_'s Wife, who arrived last Night, and is expected with impatience. _Char._ He dies, yes, by all the Wrongs of Love he shall; here will I plant my self, and thro' my Breast he shall make his Passage, if he enters. _Patch._ A most heroick Resolution. There might be ways found out more to your Advantage. Policy is often preferr'd to open force. _Char._ I apprehend you not. _Patch._ What think you of personating this _Spaniard_, imposing upon the Father, and marrying your Mistress by his own Consent. _Char._ Say'st thou so my Angel! Oh cou'd that be done, my Life to come wou'd be too short to recompence thee: But how can I do that, when I neither know what Ship he came in, nor from what part of _Spain_; who recommends him, nor how attended. _Patch._ I can solve all this. He is from _Madrid_, his Father's Name _Don Pedro Questo Portento Babinetto_. Here's a Letter of his to Sir _Jealous_, which he drop'd one Day; you understand _Spanish_, and the Hand may be counterfeited: You conceive me, Sir. _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-- Sir _Geo._ I know I must before I arrive at Paradise; therefore be quick my charming Guide. _Scentw._ For ought you know; come, come your Hand and away. Sir _Geo._ Here, here Child, you can't be half so swift as my Desires. (_Exeunt._ SCENE the House. _Enter _Miranda_._ _Miran._ Well, let me reason a little with my mad self. Now don't I transgress all Rules to venture upon a Man, without the Advice of the Grave and Wise; but then a rigid knavish Guardian who wou'd have marry'd me. To whom? Even to his nauseous self, or no Body: Sir _George_ is what I have try'd in Conversation, inquir'd into his Character, am satisfied in both. Then his Love; who wou'd have given a hundred Pound only to have seen a Woman he had not infinitely loved? So I find my liking him has furnish'd me with Arguments enough of his side; and now the only Doubt remains whether he will come or no. _Enter _Scentwell_._ _Scentw._ That's resolv'd, Madam, for here's the Knight. _Exit_ Scentwell. Sir _Geo._ And do I once more behold that lovely Object, whose Idea fills my Mind, and forms my pleasing Dreams!