_Dres_. Very likely; but wo’t thou trust him with the Woman, Thomas. _Wild_. No, here’s _Diana_, who, as I shall bedizen, shall pass for as substantial an Alderman’s Heiress as ever fell into wicked Hands. He never knew the right _Charlot_, nor indeed has any body ever seen her but an old Aunt and Nurse, she was so kept up--And there, _Diana_, thou shall have a good opportunity to lye, dissemble, and jilt in abundance, to keep thy hand in ure. Prithee, dear _Dresswell_, haste with the News to him. _Dres_. Faith, I like this well enough; this Project may take, and I’ll about it. [_Goes out_. _Wild_. Go, get ye home, and trick and betauder your self up like a right City-Lady, rich, but ill-fashion’d; on with all your Jewels, but not a Patch, ye Gypsy, nor no Spanish Paint d’ye hear. _Dia_. I’ll warrant you for my part. _Wild_. Then before the old Gentleman, you must behave your self very soberly, simple, and demure, and look as prew as at a Conventicle; and take heed you drink not off your Glass at Table, nor rant, nor swear: one Oath confounds our Plot, and betrays thee to be an arrant Drab. _Dia_. Doubt not my Art of Dissimulation. _Wild_. Go, haste and dress-- [_Ex_. Dian. Bet. _and Boy_. _Enter Lady_ Gall, _and_ Closet, _above in the Balcony_; Wild. _going out, sees them, stops, and reads a Paper_. _Wild_. Hah, who’s yonder? the Widow! a Pox upon’t, now have I not power to stir; she has a damn’d hank upon my Heart, and nothing but right down lying with her will dissolve the Charm. She has forbid me seeing her, and therefore I am sure will the sooner take notice of me. [_Reads_. _Clos_. What will you put on to night, Madam? You know you are to sup at Sir _Timothy Treat-all’s_. L. _Gal_. Time enough for that; prithee let’s take a turn in this Balcony, this City-Garden, where we walk to take the fresh Air of the Sea-coal Smoak. Did the Footman go back, as I ordered him, to see how _Wilding_ and Sir _Charles_ parted? _CIos_. He did, Madam, and nothing cou’d provoke Sir _Charles_ to fight after your Ladyship’s strict Commands. Well, I’ll swear he’s the sweetest natur’d Gentleman--has all the advantages of Nature and Fortune: I wonder what Exception your Ladyship has to him. L. _Gal_. Some small Exception to his whining Humour; but I think my chiefest dislike is, because my Relations wish it a Match between us. It is not hate to him, but natural contradiction. Hah, is not that _Wilding_ yonder? he’s reading of a Letter sure.