_Mir._ But my _Endimion_?--Is _Endimion_ safe? _Man._ Madam, he is: I saw him in the Garden. _Mir._ Then perish all the rest--Go send to search him out, and let him instantly be brought to me--Hah--_Lejere_. Enter _George_. _Geo._ Baud, stand aside--and do your Office yonder-- [Puts away _Manage_. Why are you frighted, Madam, because I’m not the Lover you expected? _Mir._ What Lover! be witness, Heaven-- _Geo._ That thou art false, false as the insatiate Seas, that smiling tempt the vain Adventurer, whom flattering, far from any saving there, swell their false Waves to a destructive Storm. _Mir._ Why all this mighty Rage?--Because I disappointed you to night? _Geo._ No, by Heaven, I dully cou’d have waited for the Hour; have hop’d, and wish’d, and languish’d out an Age. But, oh _Mirtilla_! Oh thou perjur’d Fair!--But vanish all the Softness of my Soul, I will be satirical. _A Plague, a Torment, to your fickle Sex,_ _Those smiling, sighing, weeping Hypocrites._ _Mir._ And can you think my Flight is criminal? because I sav’d this worthless Life--for you-- _Geo._ What Innocence adorns her Tongue, and Eyes! while Hell and Furies give her Heart its motion. You know not where you are? _Mir._ Perhaps I do not. _Geo._ Swear, for thou’rt damn’d already, and by what black Degrees I will unfold: When first I saw this gay, this glorious Mischief, though nobly born, ‘twas hid in mean Obscurity; the shining Viper lay half dead with Poverty, I took it up, and laid it next my Heart, fed it, and call’d its faded Beauties back. _Mir._ Confess’d; And what of this? _Geo._ Confirm’d you mine, by all the Obligations Profuseness cou’d invent, or Love inspire. _Mir._ And yet at your Return you found me marry’d to another. _Geo._ Death and Hell! that was not yet the worst: You flatter’d me with some Pretence of Penitence; but on the Night, the dear destructive Night, you rais’d my Hopes to all distracting Love cou’d wish--that very Night--Oh, let me rave and die, and never think that Disappointment o’er! _Mir._ What, you saw me courted at the Ball, perhaps. _Geo._ Perhaps I saw it in your Chamber too. Breathless and panting, with new-acted Joys, the happy Lover lay--Oh _Mirtilla_! _Mir._ Nay, if he knows it, I’ll deny’t no more. [Aside. _Geo._ There is no Honesty in all thy Kind. _Mir._ Or if there be, those that deal in’t are weary of their Trade. But where’s the mighty Crime? _Geo._ No, I expect thou shouldst out-face my Eyes, out-swear my Hearing, and out-lye my Senses.--The Prince! the Prince! thou faithless dear destruction. _Mir._ The Prince! good Heaven! Is all this Heat for him? _Geo._ Thou own’st the Conquest then?