I find it in her Eyes; all languishing,
They feed the Fire in his: arm'd with a double Rage,
I know I shall go through with my Revenge.

Sir _Tim_. Fair Maid--

_Phil_. How do you know that, Sir?

Sir _Tim_. I see y'are fair, and I guess you're a Maid.

_Phil_. Your Guess is better than your Eye-sight, Sir.

Sir _Tim_. Whate'er you are, by Fortune, I wish you would permit me to
love you with all your Faults.

_Phil_. You? Pray who are you?

Sir _Tim_. A Man, a Gentleman--and more, a Knight too, by Fortune.

_Phil_. Then 'twas not by Merit, Sir--But how shall I know you are
either of these?

Sir _Tim_. That I'm a Man, the Effects of my vigorous Flame shall prove
--a Gentleman, my Coat of Arms shall testify; and I have the King's
Patent for my Title.

_Phil_. For the first you may thank your Youth, for the next your Father,
and the last your Money.

Sir _Tim_. By Fortune, I love thee for thy Pertness.