Sir Jeal. I’ll Charm you, House-wife, here lies the Charm, that conjur’d this Fellow in I’m sure on’t, come out you Rascal, do so:  Zounds take her from the Door, or I’ll spurn her from it, and break your Neck down Stairs.

Isab. Oh, oh, where am I—­He’s gone, I heard him leap down.
    (Aside to Patch_._

Patch. Nay, then let him enter—­here, here Madam, smell to this; come give me your Hand; come nearer to the Window, the Air will do you good.

Sir Jeal. I wou’d she were in her Grave.  Where are you, Sirrah,
Villain, Robber of my Honour; I’ll pull you out of your Nest.
    (Goes into the Closet.

Patch. You’l be mistaken, old Gentleman, the Bird is flown.

Isab. I’m glad I have ’scap’d so well.  I was almost dead in earnest with the Fright.

  Re-enter Sir Jealous_ out of the Closet._

Sir Jeal. Whoever the Dog were he has escap’d out of the Window, for the Sash is up.  But tho’ he is got out of my Reach, you are not:  And first Mrs. Pandor, with your Charms for Tooth-ach, get out of my House, go, troop; yet hold, stay, I’ll see you out of my Doors my self, but I’ll secure your Charge e’er I go.

Isab. What do you mean, Sir?  Was she not a Creature of your own providing?

Sir Jeal. She was of the Devil’s providing for ought I know.

Patch. What have I done, Sir to merit your Displeasure?

Sir Jeal. I don’t know which of you have done it; but you shall both suffer for it, till I can discover whose Guilt it is:  Go get in there, I’ll move you from this side of the House (Pushes Isabinda_ in at the other Door, and locks it; puts the Key in his Pocket._) I’ll keep the Key my self:  I’ll try what Ghost will get into that Room.  And now forsooth I’ll wait on you down Stairs.

Patch. Ah, my poor Lady—­Down Stairs, Sir, but I won’t go out, Sir, till I have look’d up my Cloaths.

Sir Jeal. If thou wer’t as naked as thou wer’t born, thou should’st not stay to put on a Smock.  Come along, I say, when your Mistress is marry’d you shall have your Rags, and every thing that belongs to you; but till then—­
    (Exit, pulling her out.

Patch. Oh! barbarous Usage for nothing.

  Re-enter at the lower Door.

Sir Jeal. There, go, and, come no more within sight of my Habitation, these three Days, I charge you.
    (Slaps the Door after her.

Patch. Did ever any Body see such an old Monster!

  Enter Charles_._

Patch. Oh!  Mr. Charles your Affairs and mine are in an ill Posture.

Char. I am immur’d to the Frowns of Fortune:  But what has befal’n thee?

Patch. Sir Jealous, whose suspicious Nature’s always on the Watch; nay, even whilst one Eye sleeps, the other keeps Sentinel:  Upon sight of you, flew into such a violent Passion, that I cou’d find no Stratagem to appease him, but in spight of all Arguments, lock’d his Daughter into his own Apartment, and turn’d me out of Doors.