L. _Gal_. Of which hopeful number your self are one. _Wild_. Who, I! Bear witness, Closet; take notice I’m upon my Marriage, Widow, and such a Scandal on my Reputation might ruin me; therefore have a care what you say. L. _Gal_. Ha, ha, ha, Marriage! Yes, I hear you give it out, you are to be married to me: for which Defamation, if I be not reveng’d, hang me. _Wild_. Yes, you are reveng’d; I had the fame of vanquishing where’er I laid my Seige, till I knew thee, hard-hearted thee; had the honest Reputation of lying with the Magistrates Wives, when their Reverend Husbands Were employ’d in the necessary Affairs of the Nation, seditiously petitioning: and then I was esteemed; but now they look on me as a monstrous thing, that makes honourable Love to you. Oh, hideous, a Husband Lover! so that now I may protest, and swear, and lye my Heart out, I find neither Credit nor Kindness; but when I beg for either, my Lady _Galliard’s_ thrown in my Dish: Then they laugh aloud, and cry, who wou’d think it of gay, of fine Mr. _Wilding_? Thus the City She-wits are let loose upon me, and all for you, sweet Widow: but I am resolv’d I will redeem my Reputation again, if never seeing you, nor writing to you more, will do it. And so farewel, faithless and scandalous honest Woman. L. _Gal_. Stay, Tyrant. _Wild_. I am engag’d. L. _Gal_. You are not. _Wild_. I am, and am resolv’d to lose no more time on a peevish Woman, who values her Honour above her Lover. [_He goes out_. L. _Gal_. Go, this is the noblest way of losing thee. _Clos_. Must I not call him back? L. _Gal_. No, if any honest Lover come, admit him; I will forget this Devil. Fetch me some Jewels; the Company to night at Sir Timothy’s may divert me. [_She sits down before her Glass_. _Enter_ Boy. _Boy_. Madam, one, Sir Anthony Meriwill, wou’d speak with your Ladyship. L. _Gal_. Admit him; sure ‘tis Sir _Charles_ his Uncle; if he come to treat a Match with me for his Nephew, he takes me in a critical Minute. Wou’d he but leave his whining, I might love him, if ‘twere but in Revenge. _Enter Sir_ Anthony Meriwill _and Sir_ Charles. _Sir. Anth_. So, I have tutor’d the young Rogue, I hope he’ll learn in time. Good Day to your Ladyship; _Charles_ [putting him forward] my Nephew here, Madam--Sirrah--notwithstanding your Ladyship’s Commands-- Look how he stands now, being a mad young Rascal!--Gad, he wou’d wait on your Ladyship--A Devil on him, see if he’ll budge now--For he’s a brisk Lover, Madam, when he once begins. A Pox on him, he’ll spoil all yet. L. _Gal_. Please you sit, Sir. Sir _Char_. Madam, I beg your Pardon for my Rudeness. L. _Gal_. Still whining?-- [_Dressing her self carelesly_. Sir _Anth_. D’ye hear that, Sirrah? oh, damn it, beg Pardon! the Rogue’s quite out of’s part. Sir _Char_. Madam, I fear my Visit is unseasonable. Sir _Anth_. Unseasonable! damn’d Rogue, unseasonable to a Widow?--Quite out.