_Re-enter_ FIDELIA. _Fid._ Dear sir, you have pity; beget but some in our captain for me. _Free._ Where is he? _Fid._ Within; swearing as much as he did in the great storm, and cursing you, and sometimes sinks into calms and sighs, and talks of his Olivia. _Free._ He would never trust me to see her.--Is she handsome? _Fid._ No, if you'll take my word: but I am not a proper judge. _Free._ What is she? _Fid._ A gentlewoman, I suppose, but of as mean a fortune as beauty; but her relations would not suffer her to go with him to the Indies: and his aversion to this side of the world, together with the late opportunity of commanding the convoy, would not let him stay here longer, though to enjoy her. _Free._ He loves her mightily then? _Fid._ Yes, so well, that the remainder of his fortune (I hear about five or six thousand pounds) he has left her, in case he had died by the way, or before she could prevail with her friends to follow him; which he expected she should do, and has left behind him his great bosom friend to be her convoy to him. _Free._ What charms has she for him, if she be not handsome? _Fid._ He fancies her, I suppose, the only woman of truth and sincerity in the world. _Free._ No common beauty, I confess. _Fid._ Or else sure he would not have trusted her with so great a share of his fortune, in his absence, I suppose (since his late loss) all he has. _Free._ Why, has he left it in her own custody? _Fid._ I am told so. _Free._ Then he has showed love to her indeed, in leaving her, like an old husband that dies as soon as he has made his wife a good jointure.--But I'll go in to him, and speak for you, and know more from him of his Olivia. [_Exit._ _Fid._ His Olivia, indeed, his happy Olivia! Yet she was left behind, when I was with him: But she was ne'er out of his mind or heart. She has told him she loved him; I have show'd it, And durst not tell him so, till I had done, Under this habit, such convincing acts Of loving friendship for him, that through it He first might find out both my sex and love; And, when I'd had him from his fair Olivia, And this bright world of artful beauties here, Might then have hoped, he would have look'd on me, Amongst the sooty Indians; and I could, To choose, there live his wife, where wives are forced To live no longer, when their husbands die; Nay, what's yet worse, to share 'em whilst they live With many rival wives. But here he comes, And I must yet keep out of his sight, not To lose it for ever. [_Exit._ _Re-enter_ MANLY _and_ FREEMAN. _Free._ But pray what strange charms has she that could make you love?