_Sir Sim._ Why, shall she be your bride? _Dap._ You see she will have it so. _Sir Sim._ Will you make Dapperwit your husband? _Mrs. Mar._ Rather than my father's man. _Sir Sim._ Oh, the devil! _Mrs. Mar._ Nay, come along, Jonas, you shall make one at the wedding, since you helped to contrive it. _Sir Sim._ Will you cheat yourself, for fear of being cheated? _Mrs. Mar._ I am desperate now. _Sir Sim._ Wilt thou let her do so ill a thing, Dapperwit, as to marry thee? open her eyes, prithee, and tell her I am a true knight. _Dap._ 'Twould be in vain, by my life! you have carried yourself so like a natural clerk--and so adieu, good Jonas. [_Exeunt_ Mrs. MARTHA _and_ DAPPERWIT. _Sir Sim._ What! ruined by my own plot, like an old cavalier! yet like him, too, I will plot on still, a plot of prevention. So! I have it--her father was here even now, I'm sure; well--I'll go tell her father of her, that I will! And punish so her folly and his treachery: Revenge is sweet, and makes amends for lechery. [_Exit._ SCENE IV.--_Another part of the same._ _Enter_ LYDIA _and_ LEONORE. _Lyd._ I wish I had not come hither to-night, Leonore. _Leo._ Why did you, madam, if the place be so disagreeable to you? _Lyd._ We cannot help visiting the place often where we have lost anything we value: I lost Ranger here last night. _Leo._ You thought you had lost him before, a great while ago; and therefore you ought to be the less troubled. _Lyd._ But 'twas here I missed him first, I'm sure. _Leo._ Come, madam, let not the loss vex you; he is not worth the looking after. _Lyd._ It cannot but vex me yet, if I lost him by my own fault. _Leo._ You had but too much care to keep him. _Lyd._ It often happens, indeed, that too much care is as bad as negligence; but I had rather be robbed than lose what I have carelessly. _Leo._ But, I believe you would hang the thief if you could. _Lyd._ Not if I could have my own again. _Leo._ I see you would be too merciful. _Lyd._ I wish I were tried. _Leo._ But, madam, if you please, we will waive the discourse; for people seldom (I suppose) talk with pleasure of their real losses. _Lyd._ 'Tis better than to ruminate on them; mine, I'm sure, will not out of head nor heart. _Leo._ Grief is so far from retrieving a loss, that it makes it greater; but the way to lessen it is by a comparison with others' losses. Here are ladies in the Park of your acquaintance, I doubt not, can compare with you; pray, madam, let us walk and find 'em out. _Lyd._ 'Tis the resentment, you say, makes the loss great or little; and then, I'm sure, there is none like mine: however, go on. [_Exeunt._ SCENE V.--_Another part of the same._ _Enter_ VINCENT _and_ VALENTINE. _Vin._ I am glad I have found you, for now I am prepared to lead you out of the dark and all your trouble: I have good news.