but coldly, admiring Lady _Rodomont_; but her ill treatment makes him now
resolve gratefully to marry one, who not only will advance his Fortune,
but intirely Loves him.

Mrs. _Lov_. Sir _Harry_, you have oblig'd me infinitely, I wou'd'nt but
have known this Story for the World.

Sir _Har_. But when shall we be happy in each other?

Mr. _Lov_. I'll give you leave to hope; when I have study'd well, what
Virtue is, I'll tell you more; but at present I must leave you, for I have
a hundr'd and fifty Holes to mend in a lac'd Head just going to the Wash.

Sir _Har_. Not a Word o'the Secret.

Mrs. _Lov._ [_angrily_] Sir _Harry_, I'm no tattler, depend upon't; 'tis
lock'd up in this Breast, safe and secure as lodg'd within your own
[_aside_]. I'm ready to burst, 'till I tell it my Lady.

Sir _Har_. So she's brimful of it already.----Now _Exit_, for my Friend to
humour the design. [_Exit._

_Enter Lady_ Rodomont, _and Mrs_. Lovejoy.

L. _Rod_. Prithee, Cozen, what is't you mean by the _Collonel_'s going to
be marry'd? You credulous Creatures, that are ignorant of the World,
believe all the stuff you hear. Or suppose him going to be marry'd; why do
you trouble me with such idle Stories?

Mrs. _Lov_. Nay, Madam, your Ladiship need'n't be discompos'd about the