Char. Ha! oh, Isabinda.

Patch. And swears she shall neither see Sun nor Moon, till she is Don Diego Babinetto’s Wife, who arrived last Night, and is expected with impatience.

Char. He dies, yes, by all the Wrongs of Love he shall; here will I plant my self, and thro’ my Breast he shall make his Passage, if he enters.

Patch. A most heroick Resolution.  There might be ways found out more to your Advantage.  Policy is often preferr’d to open force.

Char. I apprehend you not.

Patch. What think you of personating this Spaniard, imposing upon the Father, and marrying your Mistress by his own Consent.

Char. Say’st thou so my Angel!  Oh cou’d that be done, my Life to come wou’d be too short to recompence thee:  But how can I do that, when I neither know what Ship he came in, nor from what part of Spain; who recommends him, nor how attended.

Patch. I can solve all this.  He is from Madrid, his Father’s Name Don Pedro Questo Portento Babinetto.  Here’s a Letter of his to Sir Jealous, which he drop’d one Day; you understand Spanish, and the Hand may be counterfeited:  You conceive me, Sir.

Char. My better Genius, thou hast reviv’d my drooping Soul:  I’ll about it instantly.  Come to my Lodgings, and we’ll concert Matters.

    (Exeunt.

SCENE a Garden Gate open, Scentwell waiting within.

  Enter Sir George Airy_._

Sir Geo. So, this is the Gate, and most invitingly open:  If there shou’d be a Blunderbuss here now, what a dreadful Ditty wou’d my Fall make for Fools; and what a Jest for the Wits; how my Name wou’d be roar’d about Streets.  Well I’ll venture all.

Scentw. Hist, hist, Sir George Airy—­
    (Enters.

Sir Geo. A Female Voice, thus far I’m safe, my Dear.

Scentw. No, I’m not your Dear, but I’ll conduct you to her, give me your Hand; you must go thro’ many a dark Passage and dirty Step before you arrive—­

Sir Geo. I know I must before I arrive at Paradise; therefore be quick my charming Guide.

Scentw. For ought you know; come, come your Hand and away.

Sir Geo. Here, here Child, you can’t be half so swift as my Desires.

    (Exeunt.

SCENE the House.

  Enter Miranda_._

Miran. Well, let me reason a little with my mad self.  Now don’t I transgress all Rules to venture upon a Man, without the Advice of the Grave and Wise; but then a rigid knavish Guardian who wou’d have marry’d me.  To whom?  Even to his nauseous self, or no Body:  Sir George is what I have try’d in Conversation, inquir’d into his Character, am satisfied in both.  Then his Love; who wou’d have given a hundred Pound only to have seen a Woman he had not infinitely loved?  So I find my liking him has furnish’d me with Arguments enough of his side; and now the only Doubt remains whether he will come or no.