ACT the Second.

  Enter Sir Francis Gripe_, Miranda._

Sir Fran. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha.

Miran. Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha, ha; Oh, I shall die with Laughing.—­The most Romantick Adventure:  Ha, ha! what does the odious young Fop mean?  A Hundred Pieces to talk an Hour with me; Ho, ha.

Sir Fran. And I’m to be by too; there’s the Jest; Adod, if it had been in Private, I shou’d not have car’d to trust the young Dog.

Mirand. Indeed and Indeed, but you might Gardy.—­Now methinks there’s no Body Handsomer than you; So Neat, so Clean, so Good-Humour’d, and so Loving.—­

Sir Fran. Pritty Rogue, Pritty Rogue, and so thou shalt find me, if thou do’st prefer thy Gardy before these Caperers of the Age, thou shalt out-shine the Queen’s Box on an Opera Night; thou shalt be the Envy of the Ring (for I will Carry thee to Hide-Park) and thy Equipage shall Surpass, the what—­d’ye call ’em Ambassadors.

Miran. Nay, I’m sure the Discreet Part of my Sex will Envy me more for the Inside Furniture, when you are in it, than my Outside Equipage.

Sir Fran. A Cunning Bagage, a faith thou art, and a wise one too; and to show thee thou hast not chose amiss, I’ll this moment Disinherit my Son, and Settle my whole Estate upon thee.

Miran. There’s an old Rogue now:  (Aside.) No, Gardy, I would not have your Name be so Black in the World—­You know my Father’s Will runs, that I am not to possess my Estate, without your Consent, till I’m Five and Twenty; you shall only abate the odd Seven Years, and make me Mistress of my Estate to Day, and I’ll make you Master of my Person to Morrow.

Sir Fran. Humph? that may not be safe—­No Chargy, I’ll Settle it upon thee for Pin-mony; and that will be every bit as well, thou know’st.

Miran. Unconscionable old Wretch, Bribe me with my own Money—­Which way shall I get out of his Hands?
    (Aside.

Sir Fran. Well, what art thou thinking on, my Girl, ha?  How to Banter Sir George?

Miran. I must not pretend to Banter:  He knows my Tongue too well:  (Aside.) No, Gardy, I have thought of a way will Confound him more than all I cou’d say, if I shou’d talk to him Seven Years.

Sir Fran. How’s that?  Oh!  I’m Transported, I’m Ravish’d, I’m Mad—­

Miran. It wou’d make you Mad, if you knew All, (Aside.) I’ll not Answer him one Word, but be Dumb to all he says—­

Sir Fran. Dumb, good; Ha, ha, ha.  Excellent, ha, ha, I think I have you now, Sir George:  Dumb! he’ll go Distracted—­Well, she’s the wittiest Rogue—­Ha, ha, Dumb!  I can but Laugh, ha, ha, to think how damn’d Mad he’ll be when he finds he has given his Money away for a a Dumb Show.  Ha, ha, ha.