_Wit._ Upon my Reputation, Madam, you’re a civil well-bred Person, you have all the Agreemony of your Sex, _la belle Taille_, _la bonne Mine_, & _Reparteeé bien_, and are _tout oure toore_, as I’m a Gentleman, _fort agreeable_.--If this do not please your Lady, and nauseate her, the Devil’s in ‘em both for unreasonable Women.-- [To _Maun._ _Fan._ Gemini, Sister, does the Gentleman conjurer? _Isab._ I know not, but I’m sure I never saw a more affected Fop. _Maun._ O, a damnable impertinent Fop! ‘tis pity, for he’s a proper Gentleman. _Wit._ Well, if I do hold out, Egad, I shall be the bravest young Fellow in Christendom: But, Madam, I must kiss your Hand at present, I have some Visits to make, Devoirs to pay, necessities of Gallantry only, no Love Engagements, by _Jove_, Madam; it is sufficient I have given my Parole to your Father, to do him the honour of my Alliance; and an unnecessary Jealousy will but disoblige, Madam, your Slave.--Death, these Rogues see me, and I’m undone.-- [Exit. Enter Lady _Fancy_, Lady _Knowell_, Sir _Credulous_ and _Lucretia_, with other Women and Men, _Roger_ attending. L. _Kno._ _Isabella_, your Servant, Madam: being sensible of the insociable and solitary Life you lead, I have brought my whole Family to wait on your Ladyship, and this my Son _in Futuro_, to kiss your Hands, I beseech your Ladyship to know him for your humble Servant: my Son and your Nephew, Madam, are coming with the Musick too, we mean to pass the whole Day with your Ladyship:--and see they are here. Enter _Lodwick_ pulling in _Wittmore_, _Leander_ with them. _Lod._ Nay, since we have met thee so luckily, you must back with us. _Wit._ You must excuse me, Gentlemen. _Lod._ We’ll shew you two or three fine Women. _Wit._ Death, these Rogues will ruin me--but I have Business, Gentlemen, that-- _Lean._ That must not hinder you from doing Deeds of Charity: we are all come to teeze my Uncle, and you must assist at so good a Work;--come, gad, thou shall make love to my Aunt.--I wou’d he wou’d effectually. [Aside. _Lod._ Now I think on’t, what the Devil dost thou make here? _Wit._ Here!--oh, Sir--a--I have a design upon the Alderman. _Lod._ Upon his handsome Wife thou meanest; ah, Rogue! _Wit._ Faith, no,--a--’tis to--borrow Mony of him; and as I take it, Gentlemen, you are not fit Persons for a Man of Credit to be seen with, I pass for a graver Man. _Lod._ Well, Sir, take your Course--but, egad, he’ll sooner lend thee his Wife than his Money. [Exit _Wittmore_, they come in. _Lean._ Aunt, I have taken the boldness to bring a Gentleman of my Acquaintance to kiss your Ladyship’s Hands. _Lod._ Thy Aunt!--death, she’s very handsome.--Madam, your most humble Servant. [Kisses the L. _Fan._ _Lean._ Prithee imploy this Fool, that I may have an opportunity to entertain thy Sister. _Lod._ Sir _Credulous_, what, not a Word? not a Compliment? Hah,--be brisk, Man, be gay and witty, talk to the Ladies.