_L. Dupe._ Why, if the worst come to the worst, he leaves you an honest woman, and there's an end on't: But fear not that; hold out his messages, and then he'll write, and that is it, my bird, which you must drive it to: Then all his letters will be such ecstasies, such vows and promises, which you must answer short and simply, yet still ply out of them your advantages. _Chr._ But, madam! he's in the house, he will not write. _L. Dupe._ You fool--he'll write from the next chamber to you; and, rather than fail, send his page post with it, upon a hobby-horse: Then grant a meeting, but tell me of it, and I'll prevent him by my being there; he'll curse me, but I care not. When you are alone, he'll urge his lust, which answer you with scorn and anger. _Chr._ As thus an't please you, madam. What! Does he think I will be damn'd for him? Defame my family, ruin my name, to satisfy his pleasure? _L. Dupe._ Then he will be profane in his arguments, urge nature's laws to you. _Chr._ By'r lady, and those are shrewd arguments; but I am resolved I'll stop my ears. _L. Dupe._ Then when he sees no other thing will move you, he'll sign a portion to you beforehand: Take hold of that, and then of what you will. [_Exeunt._ SCENE II. _Enter Sir_ JOHN, _Mrs_ MILLISENT, _and_ ROSE. _Sir John._ Now, fair Mrs Millisent, you see your chamber; your father will be busy a few minutes, and in the mean time permits me the happiness to wait on you. _Mill._ Methinks you might have chose us better lodgings, this house is full; the other, we saw first, was more convenient. _Sir John._ For you, perhaps, but not for me: You might have met a lover there, but I a rival. _Mill._ What rival? _Sir John._ You know Sir Martin, I need not name it to you. _Mill._ I know more men besides him. _Sir John._ But you love none besides him: Can you deny your affection to him? _Mill._ You have vexed me so, I will not satisfy you. _Sir John._ Then I perceive I am not likely to be so much obliged to you, as I was to him. _Mill._ This is romance--I'll not believe a word on't. _Sir John._ That's as you please: However 'tis believed, his wit will not much credit your choice. Madam, do justice to us both; pay his ingratitude and folly with your scorn; my service with your love. By this time your father stays for me: I shall be discreet enough to keep this fault of yours from him; the lawyers wait for us to draw your jointure; and I would beg your pardon for my absence, but that my crime is punished in itself. [_Exit._ _Mill._ Could I suspect this usage from a favoured servant! _Rose._ First hear Sir Martin, ere you quite condemn him; consider, 'tis a rival who accused him. _Mill._ Speak not a word in his behalf: Methought too, Sir John called him fool.