_Cel_. Oh, how numerous are her Charms
--How shall I pay this generous Condescension?
Fair lovely Maid--

_Dia_. Why do you flatter, Sir?

_Cel_. To say you're lovely, by your self I do not,
I'm young, and have not much convers'd with Beauty:
Yet I'll esteem my Judgment, since it knows
Where my Devotions shou'd be justly paid.
--But, Madam, may I not yet expect
To hear the Story, you so lately promis'd me?

_Dia_. I owe much to your Goodness, Sir--but--

_Cel_. I am too young, you think, to hear a Secret;
Can I want Sense to pity your Misfortunes,
Or Passion to incite me to revenge 'em?

_Dia_. Oh, would he were in earnest!

_Cel_. She's fond of me, and I must blow that flame,
Do any thing to make her hate my _Bellmour_. [_Aside_.
--But, Madam, I'm impatient for your Story,
That after that, you may expect my Service.

_Dia_. The Treatment you this night have given a distressed Maid,
enough obliges me; nor need I tell you, I'm nobly born; something
about my Dress, my Looks and Mien, will doubtless do me reason.