_Lady L._ Two of them had a heavy, pedantic air: but the third---- _Parly._ Ah, the third, madam--the third of all things, they say, is very critical. _Lady L._ He was--but in short, nature formed him for my undoing. His very looks were witty, and his expressive eyes spoke softer, prettier things, than words could frame. _Parly._ There will be mischief by and by; I never heard a woman talk so much of eyes, but there were tears presently after. _Lady L._ My father was so well pleased with his conversation, that he begged their company next day; they consented, and next night, Parly---- _Parly._ Ah, next night, madam----next night (I'm afraid) was a night indeed. _Lady L._ He bribed my maid, with his gold, out of her modesty; and me, with his rhetoric, out of my honour. [_Weeps._] He swore that he would come down from Oxford in a fortnight, and marry me. _Parly._ The old bait, the old bait--I was cheated just so myself. [_Aside._] But had not you the wit to know his name all this while? _Lady L._ He told me that he was under an obligation to his companions, of concealing himself then, but, that he would write to me in two days, and let me know his name and quality. After all the binding oaths of constancy, I gave him a ring with this motto--"_Love and Honour_"--then we parted, and I never saw the dear deceiver more. _Parly._ No, nor never will, I warrant you. _Lady L._ I need not tell my griefs, which my father's death made a fair pretence for; he left me sole heiress and executrix to three thousand pounds a year: at last, my love for this single dissembler turned to a hatred of the whole sex; and, resolving to divert my melancholy, I went to travel. Here I will play my last scene; then retire to my country-house, and live solitary. We shall have that old impotent lecher, Smuggler, here to-night; I have a plot to swinge him, and his precise nephew, Vizard. _Parly._ I think, madam, you manage every body that comes in your way. _Lady L._ No, Parly; those men, whose pretensions I found just and honourable, I fairly dismissed, by letting them know my firm resolutions never to marry, But those villains, that would attempt my honour, I've seldom failed to manage. _Parly._ What d'ye think of the colonel, madam? I suppose his designs are honourable. _Lady L._ That man's a riddle; there's something of honour in his temper that pleases; I'm sure he loves me too, because he's soon jealous, and soon satisfied.--But hang him, I have teased him enough--Besides, Parly, I begin to be tired of my revenge: but this buss and guinea I must maul once more. I'll hansel his woman's clothes for him. Go, get me pen and ink; I must write to Vizard too. Fortune, this once assist me as before: Two such machines can never work in vain, As thy propitious wheel, and my projecting brain. [_Exeunt._ ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I. _Covent Garden._ _Enter_ SIR H. WILDAIR _and_ COLONEL STANDARD, _meeting_.