SCENE II. Lady _Knowell’s_ Chamber. Enter Lady _Knowell_ and _Leander_. L. _Kno._ _Leander_, raise your Soul above that little trifle _Lucretia_;--cannot you guess what better Fate attends you? fy, how dull you are! must I instruct you in plain right-down Terms? and tell you, that I propose you Master of my Fortune.--Now possibly you understand me. Enter _Lucretia_, and peeps. _Lean._ I wish I did not, Madam, Unless I’d Virtue to deserve the Bounty; I have a thousand Faults Dissimulation hides, Inconstant, wild, debauch’d as Youth can make me. _Lucr._ All that will not do your Business. [Aside. L. _Kno._ Yet you wou’d have my Daughter take you with all these Faults; they’re Virtues there, but to the name of Mother, they all turn retrograde: I can endure a Man As wild and as inconstant as she can; I have a Fortune too that can support that Humour, That of _Lucretia_ does depend on me, And when I please is nothing; I’m far from Age or Wrinkles, can be courted By Men, as gay and youthful as a new Summer’s Morn, Beauteous as the first Blossoms of the Spring, Before the common Sun has kiss’d their Sweets away, If with salacious Appetites I lov’d. _Lean._ Faith, Madam, I cou’d wish-- L. _Kno._ That I were but Fifteen: but If there be inequality in Years, There is so too in Fortunes, that might add A Lustre to my Eyes, Charms to my Person, And make me fair as _Venus_, young as _Hebe_. _Lean._ Madam, you have enough to engage any unconquer’d Heart; but ’.was, I thought, with your allowance I dispos’d of mine, and ‘tis a Heart that knows not how to change. L. _Kno._ Then ‘tis a foolish unambitious Heart, unworthy of the Elevation it has not glorious Pride enough to aim at:--Farewel, Sir,--when you are wiser, you may find admittance. [Goes out. _Lean._ Stay, Madam-- Enter _Lucretia_. _Lucr._ For what? to hear your Penitence! Forgive me, Madam, I will be a Villain, forget my Vows of Love, made to _Lucretia_. And sacrifice both her, and those to Interest. Oh, how I hate this whining and dissembling! _Lean._ Do, triumph o’er a wretched Man, _Lucretia_. _Lucr._ How! wretched in loving me so entirely, or that you cannot marry my Mother, and be Master of her mighty Fortune? ‘Tis a Temptation indeed so between Love and Interest, hang me if ever I saw so simple a Look as you put on when my Mother made love to you. _Lean._ You may easily guess the Confusion of a Man in my Circumstances, to be languishing for the lov’d Daughter, and pursu’d by the hated Mother, whom if I refuse will ruin all my hopes of thee. _Lucr._ Refuse her! I hope you have more Wit. _Lean._ _Lucretia_, cou’d she make a Monarch of me, I cou’d not marry her. _Lucr._ And you wou’d be so wise to tell her so? _Lean._ I wou’d no more abuse her, than I cou’d love her. _Lucr._ Yet that last must be done. _Lean._ How!