_L. Dupe._ Then somewhat discomposed, I'll say, I doubt the meazles or small-pox will seize on you, and then the girl is spoiled; saying, poor thing, her portion is her beauty, and her virtue; and often send to see how you do, by whispers in my servant's ears, and have those whispers of your health returned to mine: If his lordship, thereupon, asks how you do, I will pretend it was some other thing. _Chr._ Right, madam, for that will bring him further in suspence. _L. Dupe._ A hopeful girl! then will I eat nothing that night, feigning my grief for you; but keep his lordship company at meal, and seem to strive to put my passion off, yet shew it still by small mistakes. _Chr._ And broken sentences. _L. Dupe._ A dainty girl! and after supper visit you again, with promise to return strait to his lordship; but after I am gone, send an excuse, that I have given you a cordial, and mean to watch that night in person with you. _Chr._ His lordship then will find the prologue of his trouble, doubting I have told you of his ruffling. _L. Dupe._ And more than that, fearing his father should know of it, and his wife, who is a termagant lady: But when he finds the coast is clear, and his late ruffling known to none but you, he will be drunk with joy. _Chr._ Finding my simple innocence, which will inflame him more. _L. Dupe._ Then what the lion's skin has failed him in, the fox's subtlety must next supply, and that is just, sweetheart, as I would have it; for crafty folks treaties are their advantage: especially when his passion must be satisfied at any rate, and you keep shop to set the price of love: so now you see the market is your own. _Chr._ Truly, madam, this is very rational; and by the blessing of heaven upon my poor endeavours, I do not doubt to play my part. _L. Dupe._ My blessing and my prayers go along with thee. _Enter_ Sir JOHN SWALLOW, Mrs MILLISENT, _and_ ROSE, _her maid_. _Chr._ I believe, madam, here is the young heiress you expect, and with her he who is to marry her. _L. Dupe._ However I am Sir Martin's friend, I must not seem his enemy. _Sir John._ Madam, this fair young lady begs the honour to be known to you. _Mill._ My father made me hope it, madam. _L. Dupe._ Sweet lady, I believe you have brought all the freshness of the country up to town with you. [_They salute._ _Mill._ I came up, madam, as we country-gentlewomen use, at an Easter-term, to the destruction of tarts and cheese-cakes, to see a new play, buy a new gown, take a turn in the park, and so down again to sleep with my fore-fathers. _Sir John._ Rather, madam, you are come up to the breaking of many a poor heart, that, like mine, will languish for you. _Chr._ I doubt, madam, you are indisposed with your voyage; will you please to see the lodgings your father has provided for you? _Mill._ To wait upon you, madam.