L. Piz. Oh! _Lucy_, I'm undone---- That Stranger there has charm'd my Heart: I feel The Pow'r of conquering Love; quick, quickly tell me, What shall I do to ease this racking Passion? _Lucy._ Nay, Madam, I fancy your Passion has little Occasion for Lenitives; it blazes so violently at first, 'tis like to be soon extinguish'd. L. _Piz._ Dear _Lucy_, don't trifle with me; but contrive, imagine, do any thing, to bless thy Love-sick Mistress with the Sight of that dear Man: And as an Earnest of further Rewards, here, take this---- [_Gives her a Ring._ _Lucy._ Madam, I receive your Commands with much Joy, but your Present with more----[_Aside._] I'll try what this projecting Brain can do, and if you step into the next Room, I'll soon give you an Account of my Proceedings. [_Exit L._ Pizalta. _Bass._ Ye Gods! What have I done, that you pursue me thus? Why did you e'er decree that I should wed A Wife I now must hate? Why did I see The bright _Aurelia_? Why am I thus torn 'Twixt Love and Duty? Oh! what Pangs, what Torments My Soul endures! Oh! my _Aurelia_! [_Exeunt omnes, but_ Lucy & Ludov. Lucy _pulling_ Ludovico _by the Sleeve_. _Lucy._ Sir, Sir, one Word with you. _Lud._ Your Business---- _Lucy._ May one ask you a civil Question, and be resolv'd? _Lud._ Hum--A civil Question, sayst thou? What's it, prithee, a Night's Lodging? If so, pull off thy Mask, and I'll resolve thee instantly----But I never strike Bargains in the Dark. _Lucy._ I don't know, Sir, but it may tend to that, by way of Proxy, at the long-run: But at present my Commission reaches no further than to know your Lodgings; if any Thing comes on't, I fancy 'twill not displease you. _Lud._ (_Aside._) Hum----This is but a Pettifogger in Intrigues, I find----Egad, I'm like to be pretty well employ'd during the Carnival----Well, considering I am a Stranger here, this Hit may be a lucky one, and the Lady handsome----Egad, I'll fancy her so at least, wer't but for the Pleasure of Expectation. _Lucy._ What are you studying, Sir? Are you so long resolving whether you shall accept a Lady's Favour, or no? _Lud._ No, faith, Child: I am not over-scrupulous in those Matters----Let her be but Woman, and we shan't disagree----And so thou mayst tell her----There's a Direction for thee. [_Tears the Superscription of a Letter and gives it her._ [_Exit_ Ludovico. _Lucy._ Frank and easy, _a la mode de Paris_----Well, these indifferent Sparks charm more than all your cringing Fops----Now for my Business--Let me see--I'll to my Lady, she'll write; I'll carry the Letter, and the Devil will turn Saint, if I don't bring 'em together, and merit a further Recompence. _By Coupling many have their Fortunes made;_ _I only want Preferment, not my Trade._ [_Exit_ Lucy. SCENE II.