SCENE III. [_To them_] SIR WILFULL. MRS. FAIN. O Sir Wilfull, you are come at the critical instant. There’s your mistress up to the ears in love and contemplation; pursue your point, now or never. SIR WIL. Yes, my aunt will have it so. I would gladly have been encouraged with a bottle or two, because I’m somewhat wary at first, before I am acquainted. [_This while_ MILLAMANT _walks about repeating to herself_.] But I hope, after a time, I shall break my mind—that is, upon further acquaintance.—So for the present, cousin, I’ll take my leave. If so be you’ll be so kind to make my excuse, I’ll return to my company— MRS. FAIN. Oh, fie, Sir Wilfull! What, you must not be daunted. SIR WIL. Daunted? No, that’s not it; it is not so much for that—for if so be that I set on’t I’ll do’t. But only for the present, ’tis sufficient till further acquaintance, that’s all—your servant. MRS. FAIN. Nay, I’ll swear you shall never lose so favourable an opportunity, if I can help it. I’ll leave you together and lock the door. SCENE IV. SIR WILFULL, MILLAMANT. SIR WIL. Nay, nay, cousin. I have forgot my gloves. What d’ye do? ’Sheart, a has locked the door indeed, I think.—Nay, cousin Fainall, open the door. Pshaw, what a vixen trick is this? Nay, now a has seen me too.—Cousin, I made bold to pass through as it were—I think this door’s enchanted. MILLA. [_repeating_]:— I prithee spare me, gentle boy, Press me no more for that slight toy. SIR WIL. Anan? Cousin, your servant. MILLA. That foolish trifle of a heart— Sir Wilfull! SIR WIL. Yes—your servant. No offence, I hope, cousin? MILLA. [_repeating_]:— I swear it will not do its part, Though thou dost thine, employ’st thy power and art. Natural, easy Suckling! SIR WIL. Anan? Suckling? No such suckling neither, cousin, nor stripling: I thank heaven I’m no minor. MILLA. Ah, rustic, ruder than Gothic. SIR WIL. Well, well, I shall understand your lingo one of these days, cousin; in the meanwhile I must answer in plain English. MILLA. Have you any business with me, Sir Wilfull? SIR WIL. Not at present, cousin. Yes, I made bold to see, to come and know if that how you were disposed to fetch a walk this evening; if so be that I might not be troublesome, I would have sought a walk with you. MILLA. A walk? What then? SIR WIL. Nay, nothing. Only for the walk’s sake, that’s all. MILLA. I nauseate walking: ’tis a country diversion; I loathe the country and everything that relates to it. SIR WIL. Indeed! Hah! Look ye, look ye, you do? Nay, ’tis like you may. Here are choice of pastimes here in town, as plays and the like, that must be confessed indeed— MILLA. Ah, _l’étourdi_! I hate the town too.