Will. As of most admirable Blessings: but harkye, Child, I am plaguily afraid thou’rt some scurvy honest thing of Quality by these odd Questions of thine, and hast some wicked Design upon my Body. 181 Aria. What, to have and to hold I’ll warrant.—No Faith, Sir, Maids of my Quality expect better Jointures than a Buff-coat, Scarf and Feather: such Portions as mine are better Ornaments in a Family than a Captain and his Commission. Will. Why well said, now thou hast explain’d thy self like a Woman of Honour—Come, come, let’s away. Aria. Explain my self! How mean ye? Will. —Thou say’st I am not fit to marry thee—and I believe this Assignation was not made to tell me so, nor yet to hear me whistle to the Birds. Aria. Faith no, I saw you, lik’d ye, and had a mind to ye. Will. Ay, Child— Aria. In short, I took ye for a Man of Honour. Will. Nay, if I tell the Devil take me. Aria. I am a Virgin in Distress. Will. Poor Heart. Aria. To be marry’d within a Day or two to one I like not. Will. Hum—and therefore wouldst dispose of a small Virgin Treasure (too good for silly Husbands) in a Friend’s Hands: faith, Child—I was ever a good religious charitable Christian, and shall acquit my self as honestly and piously in this Affair as becomes a Gentleman. Enter _Abevile_ with Musick. Abev. Come away, are ye all arm’d for the Business? Aria. Hah, arm’d! we are surpriz’d again. Will. Fear not. [Draws. Aria. Oh God, Sir, haste a way, you are already wounded: but I conjure you, as a Man of Honour, be here at the Garden Gate to night again, and bring a Friend, in case of Danger, with you; and if possible I’ll put my self into your Hands, for this Night’s Work has ruin’d me— [Speaking quick, and pushing him forwards runs off. Abev. My Master sure not gone yet— [Peeping advancing. 182 Will. Rascals, tho you are odds, you’ll find hot Work in vanquishing. [Falls on ’em. Abev. Hold, Sir, I am your Page. Do you not know me? and these the Musick you commanded—shall I carry ’em where you order’d, Sir? Will. They take me for some other, this was lucky. [Aside.] O, aye—’tis well—I’ll follow—but whither?—Plague of my dull Mistakes, the Woman’s gone—yet stay— [Calls ’em. For now I think on’t, this Mistake may help me to another—stay—I must dispose of this mad Fire about me, which all these Disappointments cannot lay—Oh for some young kind Sinner in the nick—How I cou’d souse upon her like a Bird of Prey, and worry her with Kindness. [Aside.] —Go on, I follow. [Exeunt. Scene changes to _La Nuche’s_ House. Enter _Petronella_ and _Aurelia_ with Light. Aur. Well, the Stranger is in Bed, and most impatiently expects our Patrona, who is not yet returned.