_Clos_. Ay, what d’ye call him indeed? I shou’d be glad to hear his Name. Alas, Sir, I have no near Relation living that I know of, the more’s my Misfortune, poor helpless Orphan that I am. [_Weeps_. _Wild_. Nay, but Mrs. Closet, pray take me right, This Country-man of yours, as I was saying-- L. _Gal_. Chang’d already from a Kinsman to a Countryman! a plain Contrivance to get my Woman out of the Room. Closet, as you value my Service, stir not from hence. _Wild_. This Countryman of yours, I say, being left Executor by your Father’s last Will and Testament, is come--Dull Waiting-woman, I wou’d be alone with your Lady; know your Cue and retire. _Clos_. How, Sir! _Wild_. Learn, I say, to understand Reason when you hear it. Leave us awhile; Love is not a Game for three to play at. [_Gives her Mony_. _Clos_. I must own to all the World, you have convinc’d me; I ask a thousand Pardons for my Dulness. Well, I’ll be gone, I’ll run; you’re a most powerful Person, the very Spirit of Persuasion--I’ll steal out--You have such a taking way with you--But I forgot my self. Well, your most obedient Servant; whenever you’ve occasion, Sir, be pleas’d to use me freely. _Wild_. Nay, dear Impertinence, no more Complements, you see I’m busy now; prithee be gone, you see I am busy. _Clos_. I’m all Obedience to you, Sir--Your most obedient-- L. _Gal_. Whither are you fisking and giggiting now? _Clos_. Madam, I am going down, and will return immediately, immediately. [_Exit_ Clos. _Wild_. So, she’s gone; Heaven and broad Gold be prais’d for the Deliverance. And now, dear Widow, let’s lose no more precious time; we have fool’d away too much already. L. _Gal_. This to me! _Wild_. To you, yes, to whom else should it be? Unless being sensible you have not Discretion enough to manage your own Affairs your self, you resolve like other Widows, with all you’re Worth to buy a Governour, commonly call’d a Husband. I took ye to be wiser; but if that be your Design I shall do my best to serve you--though to deal freely with you-- L. _Gal_. Trouble not your self, Sir, to make Excuses; I’m not so fond of the Offer to take you at your Word. Marry you! a Rakeshame, who have not Esteem enough for the Sex to believe your Mother honest--without Money or Credit, without Land either in presenter prospect; and half a dozen hungry Vices, like so many bauling Brats at your Back, perpetually craving, and more chargeable to keep than twice the number of Children. Besides, I think you are provided for; are you not married to Mrs. _Charlot Gett-all_?