textfiles/etext/FICTION/behn-rover-284.txt

   1677 THE ROVER; OR THE BANISH'D CAVALIERS by Aphra Behn THE ROVER; or,
   the Banish'd Cavaliers. PART I. PROLOGUE, Written by a Person of
   Quality. WITS, like Physicians, never can agree, When of a different
   Society; And Rabel's Drops were never more cry'd down By all the
   Learned Doctors of the Town, Than a new Play, whose author is unknown:
   Nor can those Doctors with more Malice sue (And powerful Purses) the
   dissenting Few, Than those with an insulting Pride do rail At all who
   are not of their own Cabal. If a Young Poet hit your Humour right, You
   judge him then out of Revenge and Spite; So amongst Men there are
   ridiculous Elves, Who Monkeys hate for being too like themselves: So
   that the Reason of the Grand Debate, Why Wit so oft is damn'd, when
   good Plays take, Is, that you censure as you love or hate. Thus, like
   a learned Conclave, Poets sit Catholick Judges both of Sense and Wit,
   And damn or save, as they themselves think fit. Yet those who to
   others Faults are so severe, Are not so perfect, but themselves may
   err. Some write correct indeed, but then the whole (Bating their own
   dull Stuff i'th' Play) is stole: As Bees do suck from Flowers their
   Honey-dew, So they rob others, striving to please you. Some write
   their Characters genteel and fine, But then they do so toil for every
   Line, That what to you does easy seem, and plain, Is the hard issue of
   their labouring Brain. And some th' Effects of all their Pains we see,
   Is but to mimick good Extempore. Others by long Converse about the
   Town, Have Wit enough to write a leud Lampoon, But their chief Skill
   lies in a Baudy Song. In short, the only Wit that's now in Fashion Is
   but the Gleanings of good Conversation. As for the Author of this
   coming Play, I ask'd him what he thought fit I should say, In thanks
   for your good Company to day: He call'd me Fool, and said it was well
   known, You came not here for our sakes, but your own. New Plays are
   stuffed with Wits, and with Debauches, That croud and sweat like Cits
   in May-day Coaches. DRAMATIS PERSONAE. MEN. Don Antonio, the
   Vice-Roy's Son, Mr. Jevorne. Don Pedro, a Noble Spainard, his Friend,
   Mr. Medburne. Belvile, an English Colonel in love with Florinda, Mr.
   Betterton. Willmore, the ROVER, Mr. Smith. Frederick, an English
   Gentleman, and Friend to Belvile and Blunt, Mr. Crosbie. Blunt, an
   English Country Gentleman, Mr. Underhill. Stephano, Servant to Don
   Pedro, Mr. Richards. Philippo, Lucetta's Gallant, Mr. Percival.
   Sancho, Pimp to Lucetta, Mr. John Lee. Bisky and Sebastian, two
   Bravoes to Angelica. Diego, Page to Don Antonio. Page to Hellena. Boy,
   Page to Belvile. Blunt's Man. Officers and Soldiers. WOMEN. Florinda,
   Sister to Don Pedro, Mrs. Betterton Hellena, a gay young Woman
   design'd for a Nun, and Sister to Florinda, Mrs. Barrey. Valeria, a
   Kinswoman to Florinda, Mrs. Hughes. Angelica Bianca, a famous
   Curtezan, Mrs. Gwin. Moretta, her Woman, Mrs. Leigh. Callis, Governess
   to Florinda and Hellena, Mrs. Norris. Lucetta, a jilting Wench, Mrs.
   Gillow. Servants, other Masqueraders, Men and Women. SCENE Naples, in
   Carnival-time. ACT I. SCENE 1. A chamber. Enter Florinda and Hellena.
   Flor. What an impertinent thing is a young Girl bred in a Nunnery! How
   full of Questions! Prithee no more, Hellena; I have told thee more
   than thou understand'st already. Hell. The more's my Grief; I wou'd
   fain know as much as you, which makes me so inquisitive; nor is't
   enough to know you're a Lover, unless you tell me too, who 'tis you
   sigh for. Flor. When you are a Lover, I'll think you fit for a Secret
   of that nature. Hell. 'Tis true, I was never a Lover yet- but I begin
   to have a shreud Guess, what 'tis to be so, and fancy it very pretty
   to sigh, and sing, and blush and wish, and dream and wish, and long
   and wish to see the Man; and when I do, look pale and tremble; just as
   you did when my Brother brought home the fine English Colonel to see
   you- what do you call him? Don Belvile. Flor. Fie, Hellena. Hell. That
   Blush betrays you- I am sure 'tis so- or is it Don Antonio the
   Vice-Roy's Son?- or perhaps the rich Don Vincentio, whom my father
   designs for your Husband?- Why do you blush again? Flor. With
   Indignation; and how near soever my Father thinks I am to marrying
   that hated Object, I shall let him see I understand better what's due
   to my beauty Birth and Fortune, and more to my Soul, than to obey
   those unjust Commands. Hell. Now hang me, if I don't love thee for
   that dear Disobedience. I love Mischief strangely, as most of our Sex
   do, who are come to love nothing else- But tell me, dear Florinda,
   don't you love that fine Anglese?- For I vow next to loving him my
   self, 'twill please me most that you do so, for he is so gay and so
   handsom. Flor. Hellena, a Maid design'd for a Nun ought not to be so
   curious in a Discourse of Love. Hell. And dost thou think that ever
   I'll be a Nun? Or at least till I'm so old, I'm fit for nothing else.
   Faith no, Sister; and that which makes me long to know whether you
   love Belvile, is because I hope he has some mad Companion or other,
   that will spoil my Devotion; nay I'm resolv'd to provide my self this
   Carnival, if there be e'er a handsom Fellow of my Humour above Ground,
   tho I ask first. Flor. Prithee be not so wild. Hell. Now you have
   provided your self with a Man, you take no Care for poor me- Prithee
   tell me, what dost thou see about me that is unfit for Love- have not
   I a world of Youth? a Humor gay? a Beauty passable? a Vigour
   desirable? well shap'd? clean limb'd? sweet breath'd? and Sense enough
   to know how all these ought to be employ'd to the best Advantage: yes,
   I do and will. Therefore lay aside your Hopes of my Fortune, by my
   being a Devotee, and tell me how you came acquainted with this
   Belvile; for I perceive you knew Him before he came to Naples. Flor.
   Yes, I knew him at the Siege of Pampelona, he was then a Colonel of
   French Horse, who when the Town was ransack'd, nobly treated my
   Brother and my self, preserving us from all Insolencies; and I must
   own, (besides great Obligations) I have I know not what, that pleads
   kindly for him about my Heart, and will suffer no other to enter- But
   see my Brother. Enter Don Pedro, Stephano, with a Masquing Habit, and
   Callis. Pedro. Good morrow, Sister. Pray, when saw you your Lover Don
   Vincentio? Flor. I know not, Sir- Callis, when was he here? for I
   consider it so little, I know not when it was. Pedro. I have a Command
   from my Father here to tell you, you ought not to despise him, a Man
   of so vast a Fortune, and such a Passion for you- Stephano, my things-
   [Puts on his Masquing Habit. Flor. A Passion for me! 'tis more than
   e'er I saw, or had a desire should be shown- I hate Vincentio, and I
   would not have a Man so dear to me as my Brother follow the ill
   Customs of our Country, and make a Slave of his Sister- And Sir, my
   Father's Will, I'm sure, you may divert. Pedro. I know not how dear I
   am to you, but I wish only to be rank'd in your Esteem, equal with the
   English Colonel Belvile- Why do you frown and blush? Is there any
   Guilt belongs to the Name of that Cavalier? Flor. I'll not deny I
   value Belvile: when I was expos'd to such Dangers as the licens'd Lust
   of common Soldiers threatned, when Rage and Conquest flew thro the
   City- then Belvile, this Criminal for my sake, threw himself into all
   Dangers to save my Honour, and will you not allow him my Esteem?
   Pedro. Yes, pay him what you will in Honour- but you must consider Don
   Vincentio's Fortune, and the Jointure he'll make you. Flor. Let him
   consider my Youth, Beauty and Fortune; which ought not to be thrown
   away on his Age and Jointure. Pedro. 'Tis true, he's not so young and
   fine a Gentleman as that Belvile- but what jewels will that Cavalier
   present you with? those of his Eyes and Heart? Hell. And are not those
   better than any Don Vincentio has brought from the Indies? Pedro. Why
   how now! Has your Nunnery-breeding taught you to understand the Value
   of Hearts and Eyes? Hell. Better than to believe Vincentio deserves
   Value from any woman- He may perhaps encrease her Bags, but not her
   Family. Pedro. This is fine- Go up to your Devotion, you are not
   design'd for the Conversation of Lovers. Hell. Nor Saints yet a while
   I hope. [Aside. Is't not enough you make a Nun of me, but you must
   cast my Sister away too, exposing her to a worse confinement than a
   religious Life? Pedro. The Girl's mad- Is it a Confinement to be
   carry'd into the Country, to an ancient Villa belonging to the Family
   of the Vincentio's these five hundred Years, and have no other
   Prospect than that pleasing one of seeing all her own that meets her
   Eyes- a fine Air, large Fields and Gardens, where she may walk and
   gather Flowers? Hell. When? By Moon-Light? For I'm sure she dares not
   encounter with the heat of the Sun; that were a Task only for Don
   Vincentio and his Indian Breeding, who loves it in the Dog-days- And
   if these be her daily Divertisements, what are those of the Night? to
   lie in a wide Moth-eaten Bed-Chamber with Furniture in Fashion in the
   Reign of King Sancho the First; the Bed that which his Forefathers
   liv'd and dy'd in. Pedro. Very well. Hell. This Apartment (new
   furbisht and fitted out for the young Wife) he (out of Freedom) makes
   his Dressing-room; and being a frugal and a jealous Coxcomb, instead
   of a Valet to uncase his feeble Carcase, he desires you to do that
   Office- Signs of Favour, I'll assure you, and such as you must not
   hope for, unless your Woman be out of the way. Pedro. Have you done
   yet? Hell. That Honour being past, the Giant stretches it self, yawns
   and sighs a Belch or two as loud as a Musket, throws himself into Bed,
   and expects you in his foul Sheets, and e'er you can get your self
   undrest, calls you with a Snore or two- And are not these fine
   Blessings to a young Lady? Pedro. Have you done yet? Hell. And this
   man you must kiss, nay, you must kiss nay but him too- and nuzle thro
   his Beard to find his Lips- and this you must submit to for threescore
   Years, and all for a Jointure. Pedro. For all your Character of Don
   Vincentio she is as like to marry him as she was before. Hell. Marry
   Don Vincentio! hang me, such a Wedlock would be worse than Adultery
   with another Man: I had rather see her in the Hostel de Dieu, to waste
   her Youth there in Vows, and be a Handmaid to Lazers and Cripples,
   than to lose it in such a Marriage. Pedro. You have consider'd,
   Sister, that Belvile has no Fortune to bring you to, is banisht his
   Country, despis'd at home, and pity'd abroad. Hell. What then? the
   Vice-Roy's Son is better than that Old Sir Fisty. Don Vincentio! Don
   Indian! he thinks he's trading to Gambo still, and wou'd barter
   himself (that Bell and Bawble) for your Youth and Fortune. Pedro.
   Callis, take her hence, and lock her up all this Carnival, and at Lent
   she shall begin her everlasting Penance in a Monastery. Hell. I care
   not, I had rather be a Nun, than be oblig'd to marry as you wou'd have
   me, if I were design'd for't. Pedro. Do not fear the Blessing of that
   Choice- you shall be a Nun. Hell. Shall I so? you may chance to be
   mistaken in my way of Devotion- A Nun! yes I am like to make a fine
   Nun! I have an excellent Humour for a Grate: No, I'll have a Saint of
   my own to pray to shortly, if I like any that dares venture on me.
   [Aside. Pedro. Callis, make it your Business to watch this wild Cat.
   As for you, Florinda, I've only try'd you all this while, and urg'd my
   Father's Will; but mine is, that you would love Antonio, he is brave
   and young, and all that can compleat the Happiness of a gallant Maid-
   This Absence of my Father will give us opportunity to free you from
   Vincentio, by marrying here, which you must do to morrow. Flor. To
   morrow! Pedro. To morrow, or 'twill be too late- 'tis not my
   Friendship to Antonio, which makes me urge this, but Love to thee, and
   Hatred to Vincentio- therefore resolve upon't to morrow. Flor. Sir, I
   shall strive to do, as shall become your Sister. Pedro. I'll both
   believe and trust you- Adieu. [Ex. Ped. and Steph. Hell. As become his
   Sister !- That is, to be as resolved your way, as he is his- [Hell.
   goes to Callis. Flor. I ne'er till now perceiv'd my Ruin near, I've no
   Defence against Antonio's Love, For he has all the Advantages of
   Nature, The moving Arguments of Youth and Fortune. Hell. But hark you,
   Callis, you will not be so cruel to lock me up indeed: will you? Call.
   I must obey the Commands I hate- besides, do you consider what a Life
   you are going to lead? Hell. Yes, Callis, that of a Nun: and till then
   I'll be indebted a World of Prayers to you, if you let me now see,
   what I never did, the Divertisements of a Carnival. Call. What, go in
   Masquerade? 'twill be a fine farewell to the World I take it- pray
   what wou'd you do there? Hell. That which all the World does, as I am
   told, be as mad as the rest, and take all innocent Freedom- Sister,
   you'll go too, will you not? come prithee be not sad- We'll out-wit
   twenty Brothers, if you'll be ruled by me- Come put off this dull
   Humour with your Clothes, and assume one as gay, and as fantastick as
   the Dress my Cousin Valeria and I have provided, and let's ramble.
   Flor. Callis, will you give us leave to go? Call. I have a youthful
   Itch of going my self. [Aside. -Madam, if I thought your Brother might
   not know it, and I might wait on you, for by my troth I'll not trust
   young Girls alone. Flor. Thou see'st my Brother's gone already and
   thou shalt attend and watch us. Enter Stephano. Steph. Madam, the
   Habits are come, and your Cousin Valeria is drest, and stays for you.
   Flor. 'Tis well- I'll write a Note, and if I chance to see Belvile,
   and want an opportunity to speak to him, that shall let him know what
   I've resolv'd in favour of him. Hell. Come, let's in and dress us.
   [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Long Street. Enter Belvile, melancholy, Blunt and
   Frederick. Fred. Why, what the Devil ails the Colonel, in a time when
   all the World is gay, to look like mere Lent thus? Hadst thou been
   long enough in Naples to have been in love, I should have sworn some
   such Judgment had befall'n thee. Belv. No, I have made no new Amours
   since I came to Naples. Fred. You have left none behind you in Paris.
   Belv. Neither. Fred. I can't divine the Cause then; unless the old
   Cause, the want of Mony. Blunt. And another old Cause, the want of a
   Wench- Wou'd not that revive you? Belv. You're mistaken, Ned. Blunt.
   Nay, 'Sheartlikins, then thou art past Cure. Fred. I have found it
   out; thou hast renew'd thy Acquaintance with the Lady that cost thee
   so many Sighs at the Siege of Pampelona- pox on't, what d'ye call her-
   her Brother's a noble Spaniard- Nephew to the dead General- Florinda-
   ay, Florinda- And will nothing serve thy turn but that damn'd virtuous
   Woman, whom on my Conscience thou lov'st in spite too, because thou
   seest little or no possibility of gaining her? Belv. Thou art
   mistaken, I have Interest enough in that lovely Virgin's Heart, to
   make me proud and vain, were it not abated by the Severity of a
   Brother, who perceiving my Happiness- Fred. Has civilly forbid thee
   the House? Belv. 'Tis so, to make way for a powerful Rival, the
   Vice-Roy's Son, who has the advantage of me, in being a Man of
   Fortune, a Spaniard, and her Brother's Friend; which gives him liberty
   to make his Court, whilst I have recourse only to Letters, and distant
   Looks from her Window, which are as soft and kind as those which
   Heav'n sends down on Penitents. Blunt. Hey day! 'Sheartlikins, Simile!
   by this Light the Man is quite spoil'd- Frederick, what the Devil are
   we made of, that we cannot be thus concerned for a Wench?-
   'Sheartlikins, our Cupids are like the Cooks of the Camp, they can
   roast or boil a Woman, but they have none of the fine Tricks to set
   'em off, no Hogoes to make the Sauce pleasant, and the Stomach sharp.
   Fred. I dare swear I have had a hundred as young, kind and handsom as
   this Florinda; and Dogs eat me, if they were not as troublesom to me
   i'th' Morning, as they were welcome o'er night. Blunt. And yet, I
   warrant, he wou'd not touch another Woman, if he might have her for
   nothing. Belv. That's thy joy, a cheap Whore. Blunt. Why,
   'dsheartlikins, I love a frank Soul- When did you ever hear of an
   honest Woman that took a Man's Mony? I warrant 'em good ones- But,
   Gentlemen, you may be free, you have been kept so poor with
   Parliaments and Protectors, that the little Stock you have is not
   worth preserving- but I thank my Stars, I have more Grace than to
   forfeit my Estate by Cavaliering. Belv. Methinks only following the
   Court should be sufficient to entitle 'em to that. Blunt.
   'Sheartlikins, they know I follow it to do it no good, unless they
   pick a hole in my Coat for lending you Mony now and then; which is a
   greater Crime to my Conscience, Gentlemen, than to the Common-wealth.
   Enter Willmore. Will. Ha! dear Belvile! noble Colonel! Belv. Willmore!
   welcome ashore, my dear Rover!- what happy Wind blew us this good
   Fortune? Will. Let me salute you my dear Fred, and then command me-
   How is't honest Lad? Fred. Faith, Sir, the old Complement, infinitely
   the better to see my dear mad Willmore again- Prithee why camest thou
   ashore? and where's the Prince? Will. He's well, and reigns still Lord
   of the watery Element- I must aboard again within a Day or two, and my
   Business ashore was only to enjoy my self a little this Carnival.
   Belv. Pray know our new Friend, Sir, he's but bashful, a raw
   Traveller, but honest, stout, and one of us. [Embraces Blunt. Will.
   That you esteem him, gives him an interest here. Blunt. Your Servant,
   Sir. Will. But well- Faith I'm glad to meet you again in a warm
   Climate, where the kind Sun has its god-like Power still over the Wine
   and Woman.- Love and Mirth are my Business in Naples; and if I mistake
   not the Place, here's an excellent Market for Chapmen of my Humour.
   Belv. See here be those kind Merchants of Love you look for. Enter
   several Men in masquing Habits, some playing on Musick, others dancing
   after; Women drest like Curtezans, with Papers pinn'd to their
   Breasts, and Baskets of Flowers in their Hands. Blunt. 'Sheartlikins,
   what have we here! Fred. Now the Game begins. Will. Fine pretty
   Creatures! may a stranger have leave to look and love?- What's here-
   Roses for every Month! [Reads the Paper. Blunt. Roses for every Month!
   what means that? Belv. They are, or wou'd have you think they're
   Curtezans, who here in Naples are to be hir'd by the Month. Will. Kind
   and obliging to inform us- Pray where do these Roses grow? I would
   fain plant some of 'em in a Bed of mine. Wom. Beware such Roses, Sir.
   Will. A Pox of fear: I'll be bak'd with thee between a pair of Sheets,
   and that's thy proper Still, so I might but strow such Roses over me
   and under me- Fair one, wou'd you wou'd give me leave to gather at
   your Bush this idle Month, I wou'd go near to make some Body smell of
   it all the Year after. Belv. And thou hast need of such a Remedy, for
   thou stinkest of Tar and Rope-ends, like a Dock or Pesthouse. [The
   Woman puts her self into the Hands of a Man, and Exit. Will. Nay, nay,
   you shall not leave me so. Belv. By all means use no Violence here.
   Will. Death! just as I was going to be damnably in love, to have her
   led off! I could pluck that Rose out of his Hand, and even kiss the
   Bed, the Bush it grew in. Fred. No Friend to Love like a long Voyage
   at Sea. Blunt. Except a Nunnery, Fred. Will. Death! but will they not
   be kind, quickly be kind? Thou know'st I'm no tame Sigher, but a
   rampant Lion of the Forest. Two Men drest all over with Horns of
   several sorts, making Grimaces at one another, with Papers pinn'd on
   their Backs, advance from the farther end of the Scene. Belv. Oh the
   fantastical Rogues, how they are dress'd! 'tis a Satir against the
   whole Sex. Will. Is this a Fruit that grows in this warm Country?
   Belv. Yes: 'Tis pretty to see these Italian start, swell, and stab at
   the Word Cuckold, and yet stumble at Horns on every Threshold. Will.
   See what's on their Back- Flowers for every Night. [Reads. -Ah Rogue!
   And more sweet than Roses of ev'ry Month! This is a Gardiner of Adam's
   own breeding. [They dance. Belv. What think you of those grave
   People?- is a Wake in Essex half so mad or extravagant? Will. I like
   their sober grave way, 'tis a kind of legal authoriz'd Fornication,
   where the Men are not chid for't, nor the Women despis'd, as amongst
   our dull English; even the Monsieurs want that part of good Manners.
   Belv. But here in Italy a Monsieur is the humblest best-bred
   Gentleman- Duels are so baffled by Bravo's that an age shews not one,
   but between a Frenchman and a Hang-man, who is as much too hard for
   him on the Piazza, as they are for a Dutchman on the new Bridge- But
   see another Crew. Enter Florinda, Hellena, and Valeria, drest like
   Gipsies; Callis and Stephano, Lucetta, Philippo and Sancho in
   Masquerade. Hell. Sister, there's your Englishman, and with him a
   handsom proper Fellow- I'll to him, and instead of telling him his
   Fortune, try my own. Will. Gipsies, on my Life- Sure these will
   prattle if a Man cross their Hands. [Goes to Hellena]- Dear pretty
   (and I hope) young Devil, will you tell an amorous Stranger what Luck
   he's like to have? Hell. Have a care how you venture with me, Sir,
   lest I pick your Pocket, which will more vex your English Humour, than
   an Italian Fortune will please you. Will. How the Devil cam'st thou to
   know my Country and Humour? Hell. The first I guess by a certain
   forward Impudence, which does not displease me at this time; and the
   Loss of your Money will vex you, because I hope you have but very
   little to lose. Will. Egad Child, thou'rt i'th' right; it is so
   little, I dare not offer it thee for a Kindness- But cannot you divine
   what other things of more value I have about me, that I would more
   willingly part with? Hell. Indeed no, that's the Business of a Witch,
   and I am but a Gipsy yet- Yet, without looking in your Hand, I have a
   parlous Guess, 'tis some foolish Heart you mean, an inconstant English
   Heart, as little worth stealing as your Purse. Will. Nay, then thou
   dost deal with the Devil, that's certain- Thou hast guess'd as right
   as if thou hadst been one of that Number it has languisht for- I find
   you'll be better acquainted with it; nor can you take it in a better
   time, for I am come from Sea, Child; and Venus not being propitious to
   me in her own Element, I have a world of Love in store- Wou'd you
   would be good-natur'd, and take some on't off my Hands. Hell. Why- I
   could be inclin'd that way- but for a foolish Vow I am going to make-
   to die a Maid. Will. Then thou art damn'd without Redemption; and as I
   am a good Christian, I ought in charity to divert so wicked a Design-
   therefore prithee, dear Creature, let me know quickly when and where I
   shall begin to set a helping hand to so good a Work. Hell. If you
   should prevail with my tender Heart (as I begin to fear you will, for
   you have horrible loving Eyes) there will be difficulty in't that
   you'll hardly undergo for my sake. Will. Faith, Child, I have been
   bred in Dangers, and wear a Sword that has been employ'd in a worse
   Cause, than for a handsom kind Woman- Name the Danger- let it be any
   thing but a long Siege, and I'll undertake it. Hell. Can you storm?
   Will. Oh, most furiously. Hell. What think you of a Nunnery-wall? for
   he that wins me, must gain that first. Will. A Nun! Oh how I love thee
   for't! there's no Sinner like a young Saint- Nay, now there's no
   denying me: the old Law had no Curse (to a Woman) like dying a Maid;
   witness Jephtha's Daughter. Hell. A very good Text this, if well
   handled; and I perceive, Father Captain, you would impose no severe
   Penance on her who was inclin'd to console her self before she took
   Orders. Will. If she be young and handsom. Hell. Ay, there's it- but
   if she be not- Will. By this Hand, Child, I have an implicit Faith,
   and dare venture on thee with all Faults- besides, 'tis more
   meritorious to leave the World when thou hast tasted and prov'd the
   Pleasure on't; then 'twill be a Virtue in thee, which now will be pure
   Ignorance. Hell. I perceive, good Father Captain, you design only to
   make me fit for Heaven- but if on the contrary you should quite divert
   me from it, and bring me back to the World again, I should have a new
   Man to seek I find; and what a grief that will be- for when I begin, I
   fancy I shall love like any thing: I never try'd yet. Will. Egad, and
   that's kind- Prithee, dear Creature, give me Credit for a Heart, for
   faith, I'm a very honest Fellow- Oh, I long to come first to the
   Banquet of Love; and such a swinging Appetite I bring- Oh, I'm
   impatient. Thy Lodging, Sweetheart, thy Lodging, or I'm a dead man.
   Hell. Why must we be either guilty of Fornication or Murder, if we
   converse With you Men?- And is there no difference between leave to
   love me, and leave to lie with me? Will. Faith, Child, they were made
   to go together. Lucet. Are you sure this is the Man? [Pointing to
   Blunt. Sancho. When did I mistake your Game? Lucet. 'This is a
   stranger, I know by his gazing; if he be brisk he'll venture to follow
   me; and then, if I understand my Trade, he's mine: he's English too,
   and they say that's a sort of good natur'd loving People, and have
   generally so kind an opinion of themselves, that a Woman with any Wit
   may flatter 'em into any sort of Fool she pleases. Blunt. 'Tis so- she
   is taken- I have Beauties which my false Glass at home did not
   discover. [She often passes by Blunt and gazes on him; he struts, and
   cocks, and walks, and gazes on her. Flor. This Woman watches me so, I
   shall get no Opportunity to discover my self to him, and so miss the
   intent of my coming- But as I was saying, Sir- by this Line you should
   be a Lover. [Looking in his Hand. Belv. I thought how right you
   guess'd, all Men are in love, or pretend to be so- Come, let me go,
   I'm weary of this fooling. [Walks away. Flor. I will not, till you
   have confess'd whether the Passion that you have vow'd Florinda be
   true or false. [She holds him, he strives to get from her. Belv.
   Florinda! [Turns quick towards her. Flor. Softly. Belv. Thou hast
   nam'd one will fix me here for ever. Flor. She'll be disappointed
   then, who expects you this Night at the Garden-gate, and if you'll
   fail not- as let me see the other Hand- you will go near to do- she
   vows to die or make you happy. [Looks on Callis, who observes 'em.
   Belv. What canst thou mean? Flor. That which I say- Farewel. [Offers
   to go. Belv. Oh charming Sybil, stay, complete that Joy, which, as it
   is, will turn into Distraction!- Where must I be? at the Garden- gate?
   I know it- at night you say- I'll sooner forfeit Heaven than disobey.
   Enter Don Pedro and other Masquers, and pass over the Stage. Call.
   Madam, your Brother's here. Flor. Take this to instruct you farther.
   [Gives him a Letter, and goes off. Fred. Have a care, Sir, what you
   promise; this may be a Trap laid by her Brother to ruin you. Belv. Do
   not disturb my Happiness with Doubts. [Opens the Letter. Will. My dear
   pretty Creature, a Thousand Blessings on thee; still in this Habit,
   you say, and after Dinner at this Place. Hell. Yes, if you will swear
   to keep your Heart, and not bestow it between this time and that.
   Will. By all the little Gods of Love I swear, I'll leave it with you;
   and if you run away with it, those Deities of Justice will revenge me.
   [Ex. all the Women except Lucetta. Fred. Do you know the Hand? Belv.
   'Tis Florinda's. All Blessings fall upon the virtuous Maid. Fred. Nay,
   no Idolatry, a sober Sacrifice I'll allow you. Belv. Oh Friends! the
   welcom'st News, the softest Letter!- nay, you shall see it; and could
   you now be serious, I might be made the happiest Man the Sun shines
   on. Will. The Reason of this mighty Joy. Belv. See how kindly she
   invites me to deliver her from the threaten'd Violence of her Brother-
   will you not assist me? Will. I know not what thou mean'st, but I'll
   make one at any Mischief where a Woman's concern'd- but she'll be
   grateful to us for the Favour, will she not? Belv. How mean you? Will.
   How should I mean? Thou know'st there's but one way for a Woman to
   oblige me. Belv. Don't prophane- the Maid is nicely virtuous. Will.
   Who pox, then she's fit for nothing but a Husband; let her e'en go,
   Colonel. Fred. Peace, she's the Colonel's Mistress, Sir. Will. Let her
   be the Devil; if she be thy Mistress, I'll serve her- name the way.
   Belv. Read here this Postcript. [Gives him a Letter. Will. [Reads.] At
   Ten at night- at the Garden-Gate- of which, if I cannot get the Key, I
   will contrive a way over the Wall- come attended with a Friend or
   two.- Kind heart, if we three cannot weave a String to let her down a
   Garden-Wall, 'twere pity but the Hangman wove one for us all. Fred.
   Let her alone for that: your Woman's Wit, your fair kind Woman, will
   out-trick a Brother or a Jew, and contrive like a Jesuit in Chains-
   but see, Ned Blunt is stoln out after the Lure of a Damsel. [Ex. Blunt
   and Lucet. Belv. So he'll scarce find his way home again, unless we
   get him cry'd by the Bell-man in the Market-place, and 'twou'd sound
   prettily- a lost English Boy of Thirty. Fred. I hope 'tis some common
   crafty Sinner, one that will fit him; it may be she'll sell him for
   Peru, the Rogue's sturdy and would work well in a Mine; at least I
   hope she'll dress him for our Mirth; cheat him of all, then have him
   well-favour'dly bang'd, and turn'd out naked at Midnight. Will.
   Prithee what Humor is he of, that you wish him so well? Belv. Why, of
   an English Elder Brother's Humour, educated in a Nursery, with a Maid
   to tend him till Fifteen, and lies with his Grand-mother till he's of
   Age; one that knows no Pleasure beyond riding to the next Fair, or
   going up to London with his right Worshipful Father in
   Parliament-time; wearing gay Clothes, or making honourable Love to his
   Lady Mother's Landry-Maid; gets drunk at a Hunting-Match, and ten to
   one then gives some Proofs of his Prowess- A pox upon him, he's our
   Banker, and has all our Cash about him, and if he fail we are all
   broke. Fred. Oh let him alone for that matter, he's of a damn'd stingy
   Quality, that will secure our Stock. I know not in what Danger it were
   indeed, if the Jilt should pretend she's in love with him, for 'tis a
   kind believing Coxcomb; otherwise if he part with more than a Piece of
   Eight- geld him: for which offer he may chance to be beaten, if she be
   a Whore of the first Rank. Belv. Nay the Rogue will not be easily
   beaten, he's stout enough; perhaps if they talk beyond his Capacity,
   he may chance to exercise his Courage upon some of them; else I'm sure
   they'll find it as difficult to beat as to please him. Will. 'Tis a
   lucky Devil to light upon so kind a Wench! Fred. Thou hadst a great
   deal of talk with thy little Gipsy, coud'st thou do no good upon her?
   for mine was hard-hearted. Will. Hang her, she was some damn'd honest
   Person of Quality, I'm sure, she was so very free and witty. If her
   Face be but answerable to her Wit and Humour, I would be bound to
   Constancy this Month to gain her. In the mean time have you made no
   kind Acquaintance since you came to Town?- You do not use to be honest
   so long, Gentlemen. Fred. Faith Love has kept us honest, we have been
   all fir'd with a Beauty newly come to Town, the famous Paduana
   Angelica Bianca. Will. What, the Mistress of the dead Spanish General?
   Belv. Yes, she's now the only ador'd Beauty of all the Youth in
   Naples, who put on all their Charms to appear lovely in her sight,
   their Coaches, Liveries, and themselves, all gay, as on a Monarch's
   Birth-Day, to attract the Eyes of this fair Charmer, while she has the
   Pleasure to behold all languish for her that see her. Fred. 'Tis
   pretty to see with how much Love the Men regard her, and how much Envy
   the Women. Will. What Gallant has she? Belv. None, she's exposed to
   Sale, and four Days in the Week she's yours- for so much a Month.
   Will. The very Thought of it quenches all manner of Fire in me- yet
   prithee let's see her. Belv. Let's first to Dinner, and after that
   we'll pass the Day as you please- but at Night ye must all be at my
   Devotion. Will. I will not fail you. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. The
   Long Street. Enter Belvile and Frederick in Masquing-Habits, and
   Willmore in his own Clothes, with a Vizard in his Hand. Will. But why
   thus disguis'd and muzzl'd? Belv. Because whatever Extravagances we
   commit in these Faces, our own may not be oblig'd to answer 'em. Will.
   I should have chang'd my Eternal Buff too: but no matter, my little
   Gipsy wou'd not have found me out then: for if she should change hers,
   it is impossible I should know her, unless I should hear her prattle-
   A Pox on't, I cannot get her out of my Head: Pray Heaven, if ever I do
   see her again, she prove damnable ugly, that I may fortify my self
   against her Tongue. Belv. Have a care of Love, for o' my conscience
   she was not of a Quality to give thee any hopes. Will. Pox on 'em, why
   do they draw a Man in then? She has play'd with my Heart so, that
   'twill never lie still till I have met with some kind Wench, that will
   play the Game out with me- Oh for my Arms full of soft, white, kind-
   Woman! such as I fancy Angelica. Belv. This is her House, if you were
   but in stock to get admittance; they have not din'd yet; I perceive
   the Picture is not out. Enter Blunt. Will. I long to see the Shadow of
   the fair Substance, a Man may gaze on that for nothing. Blunt.
   Colonel, thy Hand- and thine, Fred. I have been an Ass, a deluded
   Fool, a very Coxcomb from my Birth till this Hour, and heartily repent
   my little Faith. Belv. What the Devil's the matter with thee Ned?
   Blunt. Oh such a Mistress, Fred. such a Girl! Will. Ha! where? Fred.
   Ay where! Blunt. So fond, so amorous, so toying and fine! and all for
   sheer Love, ye Rogue! Oh how she lookt and kiss'd! and sooth'd my
   Heart from my Bosom. I cannot think I was awake, and yet methinks I
   see and feel her Charms still- Fred.- Try if she have not left the
   Taste of her balmy Kisses upon my Lips- [Kisses him. Belv. Ha, ha, ha!
   Will. Death Man, where is she? Blunt. What a Dog was I to stay in dull
   England so long- How have I laught at the Colonel when he sigh'd for
   Love! but now the little Archer has reveng'd him, and by his own Dart,
   I can guess at all his Joys, which then I took for Fancies, mere
   Dreams and Fables- Well, I'm resolved to sell all in Essex, and plant
   here for ever. Belv. What a Blessing 'tis, thou hast a Mistress thou
   dar'st boast of; for I know thy Humour is rather to have a proclaim'd
   Clap, than a secret Amour. Will. Dost know her Name? Blunt. Her Name?
   No, 'sheartlikins: what care I for Names?- She's fair, young, brisk
   and kind, even to ravishment: and what a Pox care I for knowing her by
   another Title? Will. Didst give her anything? Blunt. Give her!- Ha,
   ha, ha! why, she's a Person of Quality- That's a good one, give her!
   'sheartlikins dost think such Creatures are to be bought? Or are we
   provided for such a Purchase? Give her, quoth ye? Why she presented me
   with this Bracelet, for the Toy of a Diamond I us'd to wear: No,
   Gentlemen, Ned Blunt not every Body- She expects me again to night.
   Will. Egad that's well; we'll all go. Blunt. Not a Soul: No,
   Gentlemen, you are Wits; I am a dull Country Rogue, I. Fred. Well,
   Sir, for all your Person of Quality, I shall be very glad to
   understand your Purse be secure; 'tis our whole Estate at present,
   which we are loth to hazard in one Bottom: come, Sir, unload. Blunt.
   Take the necessary Trifle, useless now to me, that am belov'd by such
   a Gentlewoman- 'sheartlikins Money! Here take mine too. Fred. No, keep
   that to be cozen'd, that we may laugh. Will. Cozen'd! - Death! wou'd I
   cou'd meet with one, that wou'd cozen me of all the Love I cou'd spare
   to night. Fred. Pox 'tis some common Whore upon my Life. Blunt. A
   Whore! yes with such Clothes! such Jewels! such a House! such
   Furniture, and so attended! a Whore! Belv. Why yes, Sir, they are
   Whores, tho they'll neither entertain you with Drinking, Swearing, or
   Baudy; are Whores in all those gay Clothes, and right Jewels; are
   Whores with great Houses richly furnisht with Velvet Beds, Store of
   Plate, handsome Attendance, and fine Coaches, are Whores and errant
   ones. Will. Pox on't, where do these fine Whores live? Belv. Where no
   Rogue in Office yclep'd Constables dare give 'em laws, nor the
   Wine-inspired Bullies of the Town break their Windows; yet they are
   Whores, tho this Essex Calf believe them Persons of Quality. Blunt.
   'Sheartlikins, y'are all Fools, there are things about this Essex
   Calf, that shall take with the Ladies, beyond all your Wits and Parts-
   This Shape and Size, Gentlemen, are not to be despis'd; my Waste
   tolerably long, with other inviting Signs, that shall be nameless.
   Will. Egad I believe he may have met with some Person of Quality that
   may be kind to him. Belv. Dost thou perceive any such tempting things
   about him, should make a fine Woman, and of Quality, pick him out from
   all Mankind, to throw away her Youth and Beauty upon, nay, and her
   dear Heart too?- no, no, Angelica has rais'd the Price too high. Will.
   May she languish for Mankind till she die, and be damn'd for that one
   Sin alone. Enter two Bravoes, and hang up a great Picture of
   Angelica's, against the Balcony, and two little ones at each side of
   the Door. Belv. See there the fair Sign to the Inn, where a Man may
   lodge that's Fool enough to give her Price. [Will. gazes on the
   Picture. Blunt. 'Sheartlikins, Gentlemen, what's this? Belv. A famous
   Curtezan that's to be sold. Blunt. How! to be sold! nay then I have
   nothing to say to her- sold! what Impudence is practis'd in this
   Country?- With Order and Decency Whoring's established here by virtue
   of the Inquisition- Come let's be gone, I'm sure we're no Chapmen for
   this Commodity. Fred. Thou art none, I'm sure, unless thou could'st
   have her in thy Bed at the Price of a Coach in the Street. Will. How
   wondrous fair she is- a Thousand Crowns a Month- by Heaven as many
   Kingdoms were too little. A plague of this Poverty- of which I ne'er
   complain, but when it hinders my Approach to Beauty, which Virtue
   ne'er could purchase. [Turns from the Picture. Blunt. What's this?-
   [Reads] A Thousand Crowns a Month! -'Sheartlikins, here's a Sum! sure
   'tis a mistake. -Hark you, Friend, does she take or give so much by
   the Month! Fred. A Thousand Crowns! Why, 'tis a Portion for the
   Infanta. Blunt. Hark ye, Friends, won't she trust? Brav. This is a
   Trade, Sir, that cannot live by Credit. Enter Don Pedro in Masquerade,
   follow'd Stephano. Belv. See, here's more Company, let's walk off a
   while. [Pedro Reads. [Exeunt English. Enter Angelica and Moretta in
   the Balcony, and draw a Silk Curtain. Ped. Fetch me a Thousand Crowns,
   I never wish to buy this Beauty at an easier Rate. [Passes off. Ang.
   Prithee what said those Fellows to thee? Brav. Madam, the first were
   Admirers of Beauty only, but no purchasers; they were merry with your
   Price and Picture, laught at the Sum, and so past off. Ang. No matter,
   I'm not displeas'd with their rallying; their Wonder feeds my Vanity,
   and he that wishes to buy, gives me more Pride, than he that gives my
   Price can make me Pleasure. Brav. Madam, the last I knew thro all his
   disguises to be Don Pedro, Nephew to the General, and who was with him
   in Pampelona. Ang. Don Pedro! my old Gallant's Nephew! When his Uncle
   dy'd, he left him a vast Sum of Money; it is he who was so in love
   with me at Padua, and who us'd to make the General so jealous. Moret.
   Is this he that us'd to prance before our Window and take such care to
   shew himself an amorous Ass? if I am not mistaken, he is the likeliest
   Man to give your Price. Ang. The Man is brave and generous, but of an
   Humour so uneasy and inconstant that the victory over his Heart is as
   soon lost as won; a Slave that can add little to the Triumph of the
   Conqueror: but inconstancy's the Sin of all Mankind, therefore I'm
   resolv'd that nothing but Gold shall charm my Heart. Moret. I'm glad
   on't; 'tis only interest that Women of our Profession ought to
   consider: tho I wonder what has kept you from that general Disease of
   our Sex so long, I mean that of being in love. Ang. A kind, but sullen
   Star, under which I had the Happiness to be born; yet I have had no
   time for Love; the bravest and noblest of Mankind have purchas'd my
   Favours at so dear a Rate, as if no Coin but Gold were current with
   our Trade- But here's Don Pedro again, fetch me my Lute- for 'tis for
   him or Don Antonio the Vice-Roy's Son, that I have spread my Nets.
   Enter at one Door Don Pedro, and Stephano; Don Antonio and Diego [his
   page], at the other Door, with People following him in Masquerade,
   antickly attir'd, some with Musick: they both go up to the Picture.
   Ant. A thousand Crowns! had not the Painter flatter'd her, I should
   not think it dear. Pedro. Flatter'd her! by Heaven he cannot. I have
   seen the Original, nor is there one Charm here more than adorns her
   Face and Eyes; all this soft and sweet, with a certain languishing
   Air, that no Artist can represent. Ant. What I heard of her Beauty
   before had fir'd my Soul, but this confirmation of it has blown it
   into a flame. Pedro. Ha! Pag. Sir, I have known you throw away a
   Thousand Crowns on a worse Face, and tho y'are near your Marriage, you
   may venture a little Love here; Florinda- will not miss it. Pedro. Ha!
   Florinda! Sure 'tis Antonio. [aside. Ant. Florinda! name not those
   distant Joys, there's not one thought of her will check my Passion
   here. Pedro. Florinda scorn'd! and all my Hopes defeated of the
   Possession of Angelica! [A noise of a Lute above. Ant. gazes up.] Her
   Injuries by Heaven he shall not boast of. [Song to a Lute above. SONG.
   When Damon first began to love, He languisht in a soft Desire, And
   knew not how the Gods to move, To lessen or increase his Fire, For
   Caelia in her charming Eyes Wore all Love's Sweet, and all his
   Cruelties. II. But as beneath a Shade he lay, Weaving of Flow'rs for
   Caelia's Hair, She chanc'd to lead her Flock that way, And saw the
   am'rous Shepherd there. She gaz'd around upon the Place, And saw the
   Grove (resembling Night) To all the Joys of Love invite, Whilst guilty
   Smiles and Blushes drest her Face. At this the bashful Youth all
   Transport grew, And with kind Force he taught the Virgin how To yield
   what all his Sighs cou'd never do. Ant. By Heav'n she's charming fair!
   [Angelica throws open the Curtains, and bows to Antonio, who pulls off
   his Vizard, and bows and blows up Kisses. Pedro unseen looks in his
   Face. Pedro. 'Tis he, the false Antonio! Ant. Friend, where must I pay
   my offering of Love? [To the Bravo. My Thousand Crowns I mean. Pedro.
   That Offering I have design'd to make, And yours will come too late.
   Ant. Prithee be gone, I shall grow angry else, And then thou art not
   safe. Pedro. My Anger may be fatal, Sir, as yours; And he that enters
   here may prove this Truth. Ant. I know not who thou art, but I am sure
   thou'rt worth my killing, and aiming at Angelica. [They draw and
   fight. Enter Willmore and Blunt, who draw and part 'em. Blunt.
   'Sheartlikins, here's fine doings. Will. Tilting for the Wench I'm
   sure- nay gad, if that wou'd win her, I have as good a Sword as the
   best of ye- Put up- put up, and take another time and place, for this
   is design'd for Lovers only. [They all put up. Pedro. We are
   prevented; dare you meet me to morrow on the Molo? For I've a Title to
   a better quarrel, That of Florinda, in whose credulous Heart Thou'st
   made an Int'rest, and destroy'd my Hopes. Ant. Dare? I'll meet thee
   there as early as the Day. Pedro. We will come thus disguis'd, that
   whosoever chance to get the better, he may escape unknown. Ant. It
   shall be so. [Ex. Pedro and Stephano. Who shou'd this Rival be? unless
   the English Colonel, of whom I've often heard Don Pedro speak; it must
   be he, and time he were removed, who lays a Claim to all my Happiness.
   [Willmore having gaz'd all this while on the Picture, pulls down a
   little one. Will. This posture's loose and negligent, The sight on't
   wou'd beget a warm desire In Souls, whom Impotence and Age had
   chill'd. -This must along with me. Brav. What means this rudeness, Sir
   ?- restore the Picture. Ant. Ha! Rudeness committed to the fair
   Angelica!- Restore the Picture, Sir. Will. Indeed I will not, Sir.
   Ant. By Heav'n but you shall. Will. Nay, do not shew your Sword; if
   you do, by this dear Beauty- I will shew mine too. Ant. What right can
   you pretend to't? Will. That of Possession which I will maintain- you
   perhaps have 1000 Crowns to give for the Original. Ant. No matter,
   Sir, you shall restore the Picture.. Ang. Oh, Moretta! what's the
   matter? [Ang. and Moret. above. Ant. Or leave your Life behind. Will.
   Death! you lye- I will do neither. Ang. Hold, I command you, if for me
   you fight. [They fight, the Spaniards join with Antonio, Blunt laying
   on like mad. They leave off and bow. Will. How heavenly fair she is!-
   ah Plague of her Price. Ang. You Sir in Buff, you that appear a
   Soldier, that first began this Insolence. Will. 'Tis true, I did so,
   if you call it Insolence for a Man to preserve himself; I saw your
   charming Picture, and was wounded: quite thro my Soul each pointed
   Beauty ran; and wanting a Thousand Crowns to procure my Remedy, I laid
   this little Picture to my Bosom- which if you cannot allow me, I'll
   resign. Ang. No, you may keep the Trifle. Ant. You shall first ask my
   leave, and this. [Fight again as before. Enter Belv. and Fred. who
   join with the English. Ang. Hold; will you ruin me?- Biskey,
   Sebastian, part them. [The Spaniards are beaten off. Moret. Oh Madam,
   we're undone, a pox upon that rude Fellow, he's set on to ruin us: we
   shall never see good days, till all these fighting poor Rogues are
   sent to the Gallies. Enter Belvile, Blunt and Willmore, with his shirt
   bloody. Blunt. 'Sheartlikins, beat me at this Sport, and I'll ne er
   wear Sword more. Belv. The Devil's in thee for a mad Fellow, thou art
   always one at an unlucky Adventure.- Come, let's be gone whilst we're
   safe, and remember these are Spaniards, a sort of People that know how
   to revenge an Affront. Fred. You bleed; I hope you are not wounded.
   [To Will Will. Not much:- a plague upon your Dons, if they fight no
   better they'll ne'er recover Flanders.- What the Devil was't to them
   that I took down the Picture? Blunt. Took it! 'Sheartlikins, we'll
   have the great one too; 'tis ours by Conquest.- Prithee, help me up,
   and I'll pull it down.- Ang. Stay, Sir, and e'er you affront me
   further, let me know how you durst commit this Outrage- To you I
   speak, Sir, for you appear like a Gentleman. Will. To me, Madam?-
   Gentlemen, your Servant. [Belv. stays him. Belv. Is the Devil in thee?
   Do'st know the danger of entring the house of an incens'd Curtezan?
   Will. I thank you for your care- but there are other matters in hand,
   there are, tho we have no great Temptation.- Death! let me go. Fred.
   Yes, to your Lodging, if you will, but not in here.- Damn these gay
   Harlots- by this Hand I'll have as sound and handsome a Whore for a
   Pattcoone.- Death, Man, she'll murder thee. Will. Oh! fear me not,
   shall I not venture where a Beauty calls? a lovely charming Beauty?
   for fear of danger! when by Heaven there's none so great as to long
   for her, whilst I want Money to purchase her. Fred. Therefore 'tis
   loss of time, unless you had the thousand Crowns to pay. Will. It may
   be she may give a Favour, at least I shall have the pleasure of
   saluting her when I enter, and when I depart. Belv. Pox, she'll as
   soon lie with thee, as kiss thee, and sooner stab than do either- you
   shall not go. Ang. Fear not, Sir, all I have to wound with, is my
   Eyes. Blunt. Let him go, 'Sheartlikins, I believe the Gentlewomen
   means well. Belv. Well, take thy Fortune, we'll expect you in the next
   Street.- Farewell Fool,- farewell- Will. B'ye Colonel- [Goes in. Fred.
   The Rogue's stark mad for a Wench. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Fine Chamber.
   Enter Willmore, Angelica, and Moretta. Ang. Insolent Sir, how durst
   you pull down my Picture? Will. Rather, how durst you set it up, to
   tempt poor amorous Mortals with so much Excellence? which I find you
   have but too well consulted by the unmerciful price you set upon't.-
   Is all this Heaven of Beauty shewn to move Despair in those that
   cannot buy? and can you think the effects of that Despair shou'd be
   less extravagant than I have shewn? Ang. I sent for you to ask my
   Pardon, Sir, not to aggravate your Crime.- I thought, I shou'd have
   seen you at my Feet imploring it. Will. You are deceived, I came to
   rail at you, and talk such Truths, too, as shall let you see the
   Vanity of that Pride, which taught you how to set such a Price on Sin.
   For such it is, whilst that which is Love's due is meanly barter'd
   for. Ang. Ha, ha, ha, alas, good Captain, what pity 'tis your edifying
   Doctrine will do too good upon me- Moretta, fetch the Gentleman a
   Glass, and let him survey himself, to see what Charms he has,- and
   guess my Business. [Aside in a soft tone. Moret. He knows himself of
   old, I believe those Breeches and he have been acquainted ever since
   he was beaten at Worcester. Ang. Nay, do not abuse the poor Creature.-
   Moret. Good Weather-beaten Corporal, will you march off? we have no
   need of your Doctrine, tho you have of our Charity; but at present we
   have no Scraps, we can afford no kindness for God's sake; in fine,
   Sirrah, the Price is too high i'th' Mouth for you, therefore troop, I
   say. Will. Here, good Fore-Woman of the Shop, serve me, and I'll be
   gone. Moret. Keep it to pay your Landress, your Linen stinks of the
   Gun-Room; for here's no selling by Retail. Will. Thou hast sold plenty
   of thy stale Ware at a cheap Rate. Moret. Ay, the more silly kind
   Heart I, but this is at an Age wherein Beauty is at higher Rates.- In
   fine, you know the price of this. Will. I grant you 'tis here set down
   a thousand Crowns a Month- Baud, take your black Lead and sum it up,
   that I may have a Pistole-worth of these vain gay things, and I'll
   trouble you no more. Moret. Pox on him, he'll fret me to Death:-
   abominable Fellow, I tell thee, we only sell by the whole Piece. Will.
   'Tis very hard, the whole Cargo or nothing- Faith, Madam, my Stock
   will not reach it, I cannot be your Chapman.- Yet I have Countrymen in
   Town, Merchants of Love, like me; I'll see if they'l put for a share,
   we cannot lose much by it, and what we have no use for, we'll sell
   upon the Friday's Mart, at- Who gives more? I am studying, Madam, how
   to purchase you, tho at present I am unprovided of Money. Ang. Sure,
   this from any other Man would anger me- nor shall he know the Conquest
   he has made- Poor angry Man, how I despise this railing. Will. Yes, I
   am poor- but I'm a Gentleman, And one that scorns this Baseness which
   you practise. Poor as I am, I would not sell my self, No, not to gain
   your charming high-priz'd Person. Tho I admire you strangely for your
   Beauty, Yet I contemn your Mind. -And yet I wou'd at any rate enjoy
   you; At your own rate- but cannot- See here The only Sum I can command
   on Earth; I know not where to eat when this is gone: Yet such a Slave
   I am to Love and Beauty, This last reserve I'll sacrifice to enjoy
   you. -Nay, do not frown, I know you are to be bought, And wou'd be
   bought by me, by me, For a mean trifling Sum, if I could pay it down.
   Which happy knowledge I will still repeat, And lay it to my Heart, it
   has a Virtue in't, And soon will cure those Wounds your Eyes have
   made. -And yet- there's something so divinely powerful there- Nay, I
   will gaze- to let you see my Strength. [Holds her, looks on her, and
   pauses and sighs. By Heaven, bright Creature- I would not for the
   World Thy Fame were half so fair as is thy Face. [Turns her away from
   him. Ang. His word go thro me to the very Soul. [Aside. -If you have
   nothing else to say to me. Will. Yes, you shall hear how infamous you
   are- For which I do not hate thee: But that secures my Heart, and all
   the Flames it feels Are but so many Lusts, I know it by their sudden
   bold intrusion. The Fire's impatient and betrays, 'tis false- For had
   it been the purer Flame of Love, I should have pin'd and languish'd at
   your Feet, E'er found the Impudence to have discover'd it. I now dare
   stand your Scorn, and your Denial. Moret. Sure she's bewitcht, that
   she can stand thus tamely, and hear his saucy railing.- Sirrah, will
   you be gone? Ang. How dare you take this liberty?- Withdraw. [To Moret
   -Pray, tell me, Sir, are not you guilty of the same mercenary Crime?
   When a Lady is proposed to you for a Wife, you never ask, how fair,
   discreet, or virtuous she is; but what's her Fortune- which if but
   small, you cry- She will not do my business- and basely leave her, tho
   she languish for you.- Say, is not this as poor? Will. It is a
   barbarous Custom, which I will scorn to defend in our Sex, and do
   despise in yours. Ang. Thou art a brave Fellow! put up thy Gold, and
   know, That were thy Fortune large, as is thy Soul, Thou shouldst not
   buy my Love, Couldst thou forget those mean Effects of Vanity, Which
   set me out to sale; and as a Lover, prize My yielding Joys. Canst thou
   believe they'l be entirely thine, Without considering they were
   mercenary? Will. I cannot tell, I must bethink me first- ha, Death,
   I'm going to believe her. [Aside. Ang. Prithee, confirm that Faith- or
   if thou canst not - flatter me a little, 'twill please me from thy
   Mouth. Will. Curse on thy charming Tongue! dost thou return My feign'd
   Contempt with so much subtilty? [Aside. Thou'st found the easiest way
   into my Heart, Tho I yet know that all thou say'st is false. [Turning
   from her in a Rage. Ang. By all that's good 'tis real, I never lov'd
   before, tho oft a Mistress. -Shall my first Vows be slighted? Will.
   What can she mean? [Aside. Ang. I find you cannot credit me. [In an
   angry tone. Will. I know you take me for an errant Ass, An Ass that
   may be sooth'd into Belief, And then be us'd at pleasure. -But, Madam
   I have been so often cheated By perjur'd, soft, deluding Hypocrites,
   That I've no Faith left for the cozening Sex, Especially for Women of
   your Trade. Ang. The low esteem you have of me, perhaps May bring my
   Heart again: For I have Pride that yet surmounts my Love. [She turns
   with Pride, he holds her. Will. Throw off this Pride, this Enemy to
   Bliss, And shew the Power of Love: 'tis with those Arms I call be only
   vanquisht, made a Slave. Ang. Is all my mighty Expectation vanisht?
   -No, I will not hear thee talk,- thou hast a Charm In every word, that
   draws my Heart away. And all the thousand Trophies I design'd, Thou
   hast undone- Why art thou soft? Thy Looks are bravely rough, and meant
   for War. Could thou not storm on still? I then perhaps had been as
   free as thou. Will. Death! how she throws her Fire about my Soul!
   [Aside. -Take heed, fair Creature, how you raise my Hopes, Which once
   assum'd pretend to all Dominion. There's not a Joy thou hast in store
   I shall not then command: For which I'll pay thee back my Soul, my
   Life. Come, let's begin th' account this happy minute. Ang. And will
   you pay me then the Price I ask? Will. Oh, why dost thou draw me from
   an awful Worship, By shewing thou art no Divinity? Conceal the Fiend,
   and shew me all the Angel; Keep me but ignorant, and I'll be devout,
   And pay my Vows for ever at this Shrine. [Kneels, and kisses her Hand.
   Ang. The Pay I mean is but thy love for mine. -Can you give that?
   Will. Intirely- come, let's withdraw: where I'll renew my Vows,- and
   breathe 'em with such Ardour, thou shalt not doubt my Zeal. Ang. Thou
   hast a Power too strong to be resisted. [Ex. Will. and Angelica.
   Moret. Now my Curse go with you- Is all our Project fallen to this? to
   love the only Enemy to our Trade? Nay, to love such a Shameroon, a
   very Beggar; nay, a Pirate-Beggar, whose Business is to rifle and be
   gone, a No-Purchase, No-Pay Tatterdemalion, an English Piccaroon; a
   Rogue that fights for daily Drink, and takes a Pride in being loyally
   lousy- Oh, I could curse now, if I durst- This is the Fate of most
   Whores. Trophies, which from believing Fops we win, Are Spoils to
   those who cozen us again. ACT III. SCENE I. A Street. Enter Florinda,
   Valeria, Hellena, in Antick different Dresses from what they were in
   before, Callis attending. Flor. I wonder what should make my Brother
   in so ill a Humour: I hope he has not found out our Ramble this
   Morning. Hell. No, if he had, we should have heard on't at both Ears,
   and have been mew'd up this Afternoon; which I would not for the World
   should have happen'd- Hey ho! I'm sad as a Lover's Lute. Val. Well,
   methinks we have learnt this Trade of Gipsies as readily as if we had
   been bred upon the Road to Loretto: and yet I did so fumble, when I
   told the Stranger his Fortune, that I was afraid I should have told my
   own and yours by mistake- But methinks Hellena has been very serious
   ever since. Flor. I would give my Garters she were in love, to be
   reveng'd upon her, for abusing me- How is't, Hellena? Hell. Ah!- would
   I had never seen my mad Monsieur- and yet for all your laughing I am
   not in love- and yet this small Acquaintance, o'my Conscience, will
   never out of my Head. Val. Ha, ha, ha- I laugh to think how thou art
   fitted with a Lover, a Fellow that, I warrant, loves every new Face he
   sees. Hell. Hum- he has not kept his Word with me here- and may be
   taken up- that thought is not very pleasant to me- what the Duce
   should this be now that I feel? Val. What is't like? Hell. Nay, the
   Lord knows- but if I should be hanged, I cannot chuse but be angry and
   afraid, when I think that mad Fellow should be in love with any Body
   but me- What to think of my self I know not- Would I could meet with
   some true damn'd Gipsy, that I might know my Fortune. Val. Know it!
   why there's nothing so easy; thou wilt love this wandring Inconstant
   till thou find'st thy self hanged about his Neck, and then be as mad
   to get free again. Flor. Yes, Valeria; we shall see her bestride his
   Baggage-horse, and follow him to the Campaign. Hell. So, so; now you
   are provided for, there's no care taken of poor me- But since you have
   set my Heart a wishing, I am resolv'd to know for what. I will not die
   of the Pip, so I will not. Flor. Art thou mad to talk so? Who will
   like thee well enough to have thee, that hears what a mad Wench thou
   art? Hell. Like me! I don't intend every he that likes me shall have
   me, but he that I like: I shou'd have staid in the Nunnery still, if I
   had lik'd my Lady Abbess as well as she lik'd me. No, I came thence,
   not (as my wise Brother imagines) to take an eternal Farewel of the
   World, but to love and to be belov'd; and I will be belov'd, or I'll
   get one of your Men, so I will. Val. Am I put into the Number of
   Lovers? Hell. You! my Couz, I know thou art too good natur'd to leave
   us in any Design: Thou wou't venture a Cast, tho thou comest off a
   Loser, especially with such a Gamester- I observ'd your Man, and your
   willing Ears incline that way; and if you are not a Lover, 'tis an Art
   soon learnt- that I find. [Sighs. Flor. I wonder how you learnt to
   love so easily, I had a thousand Charms to meet my Eyes and Ears, e'er
   I cou'd yield; and 'twas the knowledge of Belvile's Merit, not the
   surprising Person, took my Soul- Thou art too rash to give a Heart at
   first sight. Hell. Hang your considering Lover; I ne'er thought beyond
   the Fancy, that 'twas a very pretty, idle, silly kind of Pleasure to
   pass ones time with, to write little, soft, nonsensical Billets, and
   with great difficulty and danger receive Answers; in which I shall
   have my Beauty prais'd, my Wit admir'd (tho little or none) and have
   the Vanity and Power to know I am desirable; then I have the more
   Inclination that way, because I am to be a Nun, and so shall not be
   suspected to have any such earthly Thoughts about me- But when I walk
   thus- and sigh thus- they'll think my Mind's upon my Monastery, and
   cry, how happy 'tis she's so resolv'd!- But not a Word of Man. Flor.
   What a mad Creature's this! Hell. I'll warrant, if my Brother hears
   either of you sigh, he cries (gravely)- I fear you have the
   Indiscretion to be in love, but take heed of the Honour of our House,
   and your own unspotted Fame; and so he conjures on till he has laid
   the soft-wing'd God in your Hearts, or broke the Birds-nest- But see
   here comes your Lover: but where's my inconstant? let's step aside,
   and we may learn something. [Go aside. Enter Belvile, Fred. and Blunt.
   Belv. What means this? the Picture's taken in. Blunt. It may be the
   Wench is good-natur'd, and will be kind gratis. Your Friend's a proper
   handsom Fellow. Belv. I rather think she has cut his Throat and is
   fled: I am mad he should throw himself into Dangers- Pox on't, I shall
   want him to night- let's knock and ask for him. Hell. My heart goes
   a-pit a-pat, for fear 'tis my Man they talk of. [Knock, Moretta above.
   Moret. What would you have? Belv. Tell the Stranger that enter'd here
   about two Hours ago, that his Friends stay here for him. Moret. A
   Curse upon him for Moretta, would he were at the Devil- but he's
   coming to you. [Enter Wilmore. Hell. I, I, 'tis he. Oh how this vexes
   me. Belv. And how, and how, dear Lad, has Fortune smil'd? Are we to
   break her Windows, or raise up Altars to her! hah! Will. Does not my
   Fortune sit triumphantant on my Brow? dost not see the little wanton
   God there all gay and smiling? have I not an Air about my Face and
   Eyes, that distinguish me from the Croud of common Lovers? By Heav'n,
   Cupid's Quiver has not half so many Darts as her Eyes- Oh such a Bona
   Roba, to sleep in her Arms is lying in Fresco, all perfum'd Air about
   me. Hell. Here's fine encouragement for me to fool on. [Aside. Will.
   Hark ye, where didst thou purchase that rich Canary we drank to-day?
   Tell me, that I may adore the Spigot, and sacrifice to the Butt: the
   Juice was divine, into which I must dip my Rosary, and then bless all
   things that I would have bold or fortunate. Belv. Well, Sir, let's go
   take a Bottle, and hear the Story of your Success. Fred. Would not
   French Wine do better? Will. Damn the hungry Balderdash; cheerful Sack
   has a generous Virtue in't, inspiring a successful Confidence, gives
   Eloquence to the Tongue, and Vigour to the Soul; and has in a few
   Hours compleated all my Hopes and Wishes. There's nothing left to
   raise a new Desire in me- Come let's be gay and wanton- and,
   Gentlemen, study, study what you want, for here are Friends,- that
   will supply, Gentlemen,- hark! what a charming sound they make- 'tis
   he and she Gold whilst here, shall beget new Pleasures every moment.
   Blunt. But hark ye, Sir, you are not married, are you? Will. All the
   Honey of Matrimony, but none of the Sting, Friend. Blunt.
   'Sheartlikins, thou'rt a fortunate Rogue. Will. I am so, Sir, let
   these inform you.- Ha, how sweetly they chime! Pox of Poverty, it
   makes a Man a Slave, makes Wit and Honour sneak, my Soul grew lean and
   rusty for want of Credit. Blunt. 'Sheartlikins, this I like well, it
   looks like my lucky Bargain! Oh how I long for the Approach of my
   Squire, that is to conduct me to her House again. Why! here's two
   provided for. Fred. By this light y're happy Men. Blunt. Fortune is
   pleased to smile on us, Gentlemen,- to smile on us. Enter Sancho, and
   pulls Blunt by the Sleeve. They go aside. Sancho. Sir, my Lady expects
   you- she has remov'd all that might oppose your Will and Pleasure- and
   is impatient till you come. Blunt. Sir, I'll attend you- Oh the
   happiest Rogue! I'll take no leave, lest they either dog me, or stay
   me. [Ex. with Sancho. Belv. But then the little Gipsy is forgot? Will.
   A Mischief on thee for putting her into my thoughts; I had quite
   forgot her else, and this Night's Debauch had drunk her quite down.
   Hell. Had it so, good Captain? [Claps him on the Back. Will. Ha! I
   hope she did not hear. Hell. What, afraid of such a Champion! Will.
   Oh! you're a fine Lady of your word, are you not? to make a Man
   languish a whole day- Hell. In tedious search of me. Will. Egad,
   Child, thou'rt in the right, hadst thou seen what a melancholy Dog I
   have been ever since I was a Lover, how I have walkt the Streets like
   a Capuchin, with my Hands in my Sleeves- Faith, Sweetheart, thou
   wouldst pity me. Hell. Now, if I should be hang'd, I can't be angry
   with him, he dissembles so heartily- Alas, good Captain, what pains
   you have taken- Now were I ungrateful not to reward so true a Servant.
   Will. Poor Soul! that's kindly said, I see thou bearest a Conscience-
   come then for a beginning shew me thy dear Face. Hell. I'm afraid, my
   small Acquaintance, you have been staying that swinging stomach you
   boasted of this morning; I remember then my little Collation would
   have gone down with you, without the Sauce of a handsom Face- Is your
   Stomach so quesy now? Will. Faith long fasting, Child, spoils a Man's
   Appetite- yet if you durst treat, I could so lay about me still. Hell.
   And would you fall to, before a Priest says Grace. Will. Oh fie, fie,
   what an old out-of-fashion'd thing hast thou nam'd? Thou could'st not
   dash me more out of Countenance, shouldst thou shew me an ugly Face.
   Whilst he is seemingly courting Hellena, enter Angelica, Moretta,
   Biskey, and Sebastian, an in Masquerade: Ang. sees Will. and starts.
   Ang. Heavens, is't he? and passionately fond to see another Woman?
   Moret. What cou'd you expect less from such a Swaggerer? Ang. Expect!
   as much as I paid him, a Heart intire, Which I had pride enough to
   think when e'er I gave It would have rais'd the Man above the Vulgar,
   Made him all Soul, and that all soft and constant. Hell. You see,
   Captain, how willing I am to be Friends with you, till Time and
   Ill-luck make us Lovers; and ask you the Question first, rather than
   put your Modesty to the blush, by asking me: for alas, I know you
   Captains are such strict Men, severe Observers of your Vows to
   Chastity, that 'twill be hard to prevail with your tender Conscience
   to marry a young willing Maid. Will. Do not abuse me, for fear I
   should take thee at thy word, and marry thee indeed, which I'm sure
   will be Revenge sufficient. Hell. O' my Conscience, that will be our
   Destiny, because we are both of one humour; I am as inconstant as you,
   for I have considered, Captain, that a handsom Woman has a great deal
   to do whilst her Face is good, for then is our Harvest-time to gather
   Friends; and should I in these days of my Youth, catch a fit of
   foolish Constancy, I were undone; 'tis loitering by day-light in our
   great Journey: therefore declare, I'll allow but one year for Love,
   one year for Indifference, and one year for Hate- and then- go hang
   your self- for I profess myself the gay, the kind, and the inconstant-
   the Devil's in't if this won't please you. Will. Oh most damnably!- I
   have a Heart with a hole quite thro it too, no Prison like mine to
   keep a Mistress in. Ang. Perjur'd Man! how I believe thee now! [Aside.
   Hell. Well, I see our Business as well as Humours are alike, yours to
   cozen as many Maids as will trust you, and I as many Men as have
   Faith- See if I have not as desperate a lying look, as you can have
   for the heart of you. [Pulls off her Vizard; he starts. -How do you
   like it, Captain? Will. Like it! by Heav'n, I never saw so much
   Beauty. Oh the Charms of those sprightly black Eyes, that strangely
   fair Face, full of Smiles and Dimples! those soft round melting cherry
   Lips! and small even white Teeth! not to be exprest, but silently
   adored!- Oh one Look more, and strike me dumb, or I shall repeat
   nothing else till I am mad. [He seems to court her to pull off her
   Vizard: she refuses. Ang. I can endure no more- nor is it fit to
   interrupt him; for if I do, my Jealousy has so destroy'd my Reason,- I
   shall undo him- Therefore I'll retire. And you Sebastian [To one of
   her Bravoes] follow that Woman, and learn who 'tis; while you tell the
   Fugitive, I would speak to him instantly. [To the other Bravo. [Exit.
   [This while Flor. is talking to Belvile, who stands sullenly. Fred.
   courting Valeria. Val. Prithee, dear Stranger, be not so sullen; for
   tho you have lost your Love, you see my Friend frankly offers you
   hers, to play with in the mean time. Belv. Faith, Madam I am sorry I
   can't play at her Game. Fred. Pray leave your Intercession, and mind
   your own Affair, they'll better agree apart; he's a model Sigher in
   Company, but alone no Woman escapes him. Flor. Sure he does but rally-
   yet if it should be true- I'll tempt him farther- Believe me, noble
   Stranger, I'm no common Mistress- and for a little proof on't- wear
   this Jewel- nay, take it, Sir, 'tis right, and Bills of Exchange may
   sometimes miscarry. Belv. Madam, why am I chose out of all Mankind to
   be the Object of your Bounty? Val. There's another civil Question
   askt. Fred. Pox of's Modesty, it spoils his own Markets, and hinders
   mine. Flor. Sir, from my Window I have often seen you; and Women of
   Quality have so few opportunities for Love, that we ought to lose
   none. Fred. Ay, this is something! here's a Woman!- When shall I be
   blest with so much kindness from your fair Mouth?- Take the Jewel,
   Fool. [Aside to Belv. Belv. You tempt me strangely, Madam, every way.
   Flor. So, if I find him false, my whole Repose is gone. [Aside. Belv.
   And but for a Vow I've made to a very fine Lady, this Goodness had
   subdu'd me. Fred. Pox on't be kind, in pity to me be kind, for I am to
   thrive here but as you treat her Friend. Hell. Tell me what did you in
   yonder House, and I'll unmasque. Will. Yonder House- oh- I went to- a-
   to- why, there's a Friend of mine lives there. Hell. What a she, or a
   he Friend? Will. A Man upon my Honour! a Man- A She Friend! no, no,
   Madam, you have done my Business, I thank you. Hell. And was't your
   Man Friend, that had more Darts in's Eyes than Cupid carries in a
   whole Budget of Arrows? Will. So- Hell. Ah such a Bona Roba: to be in
   her Arms is lying in Fresco, all perfumed Air about me- Was this your
   Man Friend too? Will. So- Hell. That gave you the He, and the She-
   Gold, that begets young Pleasures. Will. Well, well, Madam, then you
   see there are Ladies in the World, that will not be cruel- there are,
   Madam, there are- Hell. And there be Men too as fine, wild, inconstant
   Fellows as your self, there be, Captain, there be, if you go to that
   now- therefore I'm resolv'd- Will. Oh! Hell. To see your Face no more-
   Will. Oh! Hell. Till to morrow. Will. Egad you frighted me. Hell. Nor
   then neither, unless you'l swear never to see that Lady more. Will.
   See her!- why! never to think of Womankind again? Hell. Kneel, and
   swear. [Kneels, she gives him her hand. Hell. I do, never to think- to
   see- to love- nor lie with any but thy self. Hell. Kiss the Book.
   Will. Oh, most religiously. [Kisses her Hand. Hell. Now what a wicked
   Creature am I, to damn a proper Fellow. Call. Madam, I'll stay no
   longer, 'tis e'en dark. [To Flor. Flor. However, Sir, I'll leave this
   with you- that when I'm gone, you may repent the opportunity you have
   lost by your modesty. [Gives him the Jewel, which is her Picture, and
   Ex. he gazes after her. Will. 'Twill be an Age till to morrow,- and
   till then I will most impatiently expect you- Adieu, my dear pretty
   Angel. [Ex. all the Women. Belv. Ha! Florinda's Picture! 'twas she her
   self- what a dull Dog was I? I would have given the World for one
   minute's discourse with her.- Fred. This comes of your Modesty,- ah
   pox on your Vow, 'twas ten to one but we had lost the Jewel by't.
   Belv. Willmore! the blessed'st Opportunity lost!- Florinda, Friends,
   Florinda! Will. Ah Rogue! such black Eyes, such a Face, such a Mouth,
   such Teeth,- and so much Wit! Belv. All, all, and a thousand Charms
   besides. Will. Why, dost thou know her? Belv. Know her! ay, ay, and a
   Pox take me with all my Heart for being modest. Will. But hark ye,
   Friend of mine, are you my Rival? and have I been only beating the
   Bush all this while? Belv. I understand thee not- I'm mad- see here-
   [Shews the Picture. Will. Ha! whose Picture is this?- 'tis a fine
   Wench. Fred. The Colonel's Mistress, Sir. Will. Oh, oh, here- I
   thought it had been another Prize- come, come, a Bottle will set thee
   right again. [Gives the Picture back. Belv. I am content to try, and
   by that time 'twill be late enough for our Design. Will. Agreed. Love
   does all day the Soul's great Empire keep, But Wine at night lulls the
   soft God asleep. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Lucetta's House. Enter Blunt and
   Lucetta with a Light. Luc. Now we are safe and free, no fears of the
   coming home of my old jealous Husband, which made me a little
   thoughtful when you came in first- but now Love is all the business of
   my Soul. Blunt. I am transported- Pox on't, that I had but some fine
   things to say to her, such as Lovers use- I was a Fool not to learn of
   Fred. a little by Heart before I came- something I must say.- [Aside.
   'Sheartlikins, sweet Soul, I am not us'd to complement, but I'm an
   honest Gentleman, and thy humble Servant. Luc. I have nothing to pay
   for so great a Favour, but such a Love as cannot but be great, since
   at first sight of that sweet Face and Shape it made me your absolute
   Captive. Blunt. Kind heart, how prettily she talks! Egad I'll show her
   Husband a Spanish Trick; send him out of the World, and marry her:
   she's damnably in love with me, and will ne'er mind Settlements, and
   so there's that sav'd. [Aside. Luc. Well, Sir, I'll go and undress me,
   and be with you instantly. Blunt. Make haste then, for 'dsheartlikins,
   dear Soul, thou canst not guess at the pain of a longing Lover, when
   his Joys are drawn within the compass of a few minutes. Luc. You speak
   my Sense, and I'll make haste to provide it. [Exit. Blunt. 'Tis a rare
   Girl, and this one night's enjoyment with her will be worth all the
   days I ever past in Essex.- Would she'd go with me into England, tho
   to say truth, there's plenty of Whores there already.- But a pox on
   'em they are such mercenary prodigal Whores, that they want such a one
   as this, that's free and generous, to give 'em Good Examples:- Why,
   what a House she has! how rich and fine! Enter Sancho. Sancho. Sir, my
   Lady has sent me to conduct you to her Chamber. Blunt. Sir, I shall be
   proud to follow- Here's one of her Servants too: 'dsheartlikins, by
   his Garb and Gravity he might be a Justice of Peace in Essex, and is
   but a Pimp here. [Exeunt. The Scene changes to a Chamber with an
   Alcove-Bed in it, a Table, &c. Lucetta in Bed. Enter Sancho and Blunt,
   who takes the Candle of Sancho at the Door. Sanch. Sir, my Commission
   reaches no farther. Blunt. Sir, I'll excuse your Complement:- what, in
   Bed, my sweet Mistress? Luc. You see, I still out-do you in kindness.
   Blunt. And thou shalt see what haste I'll make to quit scores- oh the
   luckiest Rogue! [Undresses himself Luc. Shou'd you be false or cruel
   now! Blunt. False, 'Sheartlikins, what dost thou take me for a Jew? an
   insensible Heathen,- A Pox of thy old jealous Husband: and he were
   dead, egad, sweet Soul, it shou'd be none of my fault, if I did not
   marry thee. Luc. It never shou'd be mine. Blunt. Good Soul, I'm the
   fortunatest Dog! Luc. Are you not undrest yet? Blunt. As much as my
   Impatience will permit. [Goes towards the Bed in his Shirt and
   Drawers. Luc. Hold, Sir, put out the Light, it may betray us else.
   Blunt. Any thing, I need no other Light but that of thine Eyes!-
   'sheartlikins, there I think I had it. [Aside. [Puts out the Candle,
   the Bed descends, he gropes about to find it. -Why- why- where am I
   got? what, not yet?- where are you sweetest? - ah, the Rogue's silent
   now- a pretty Love-trick this- how she'll laugh at me anon!- you need
   not, my dear Rogue! you need not! I'm all on a fire already- come,
   come, now call me in for pity- Sure I'm enchanted! I have been round
   the Chamber, and can find neither Woman, nor Bed- I lockt the Door,
   I'm sure she cannot go that way; or if she cou'd, the Bed cou'd not-
   Enough, enough, my pretty Wanton, do not carry the Jest too far- Ha,
   betray'd! Dogs! Rogues! Pimps! help! help! [Lights on a Trap, and is
   let down. Enter Lucetta, Philippo, and Sancho with a Light. Phil. Ha,
   ha, ha, he's dispatcht finely. Luc. Now, Sir, had I been coy, we had
   mist of this Booty. Phil. Nay when I saw 'twas a substantial Fool, I
   was mollified; but when you doat upon a Serenading Coxcomb, upon a
   Face, fine Clothes, and a Lute, it makes me rage. Luc. You know I
   never was guilty of that Folly, my dear Philippo, but with your self-
   But come let's see what we have got by this. Phil. A rich Coat!- Sword
   and Hat!- these Breeches too- are well lin'd!- see here a Gold Watch!-
   a Purse- ha! Gold!- at least two hundred Pistoles! a bunch of Diamond
   Rings; and one with the Family Arms!- a Gold Box!- with a Medal of his
   King! and his Lady Mother's Picture!- these were sacred Reliques,
   believe me!- see, the Wasteband of his Breeches have a Mind of Gold!-
   Old Queen Bess's. We have a Quarrel to her ever since Eighty Eight,
   and may therefore justify the Theft, the Inquisition might have
   committed it. Luc. See, a Bracelet of bow'd Gold, these his Sister
   ty'd about his Arm at parting- but well- for all this, I fear his
   being a Stranger may make a noise, and hinder our Trade with them
   hereafter. Phil. That's our security; he is not only a Stranger to us,
   but to the Country too- the Common-Shore into which he is descended,
   thou know'st, conducts him into another Street, which this Light will
   hinder him from ever finding again- he knows neither your Name, nor
   the Street where your House is, nay, nor the way to his own Lodgings.
   Luc. And art not thou an unmerciful Rogue, not to afford him one Night
   for all this?- I should not have been such a Jew. Phil. Blame me not,
   Lucetta, to keep as much of thee as I can to my self- come, that
   thought makes me wanton,- let's to Bed,- Sancho, lock up these. This
   is the Fleece which Fools do bear, Design'd for witty Men to sheer.
   [Exeunt. The Scene changes, and discovers Blunt, creeping out of a
   Common Shore, his Face, &c., all dirty. Blunt. Oh Lord! [Climbing up.
   I am got out at last, and (which is a Miracle) without a Clue- and now
   to Damning and Cursing,- but if that would ease me, where shall I
   begin? with my Fortune, my self, or the Quean that cozen'd me- What a
   dog was I to believe in Women! Oh Coxcomb- ignorant conceited Coxcomb!
   to fancy she cou'd be enamour'd with my Person, at the first sight
   enamour'd- Oh, I'm a cursed Puppy, 'tis plain, Fool was writ upon my
   Forehead, she perceiv'd it,- saw the Essex Calf there- for what
   Allurements could there be in this Countenance? which I can indure,
   because I'm acquainted with it- Oh, dull silly Dog! to be thus sooth'd
   into a Cozening! Had I been drunk, I might fondly have credited the
   young Quean! but as I was in my right Wits, to be thus cheated,
   confirms I am a dull believing English Country Fop.- But my Comrades!
   Death and the Devil, there's the worst of all- then a Ballad will be
   sung to Morrow on the Prado, to a lousy Tune of the enchanted Squire,
   and the annihilated Damsel- But Fred. that Rogue, and the Colonel,
   will abuse me beyond all Christian patience- had she left me my
   Clothes, I have a Bill of Exchange at home wou'd have sav'd my Credit-
   but now all hope is taken from me- Well, I'll home (if I can find the
   way) with this Consolation, that I am not the first kind believing
   Coxcomb; but there are, Gallants, many such good Natures amongst ye.
   And tho you've better Arts to hide your Follies, Adsheartlikins y'are
   all as errant Cullies. SCENE III. The Garden, in the Night. Enter
   Florinda undress'd, with a Key, and a little Box. Flor. Well, thus far
   I'm in my way to Happiness; I have got my self free from Callis; my
   Brother too, I find by yonder light, is gone into his Cabinet, and
   thinks not of me: I have by good Fortune got the Key of the Garden
   Back-door,- I'll open it, to prevent Belvile's knocking,- a little
   noise will now alarm my Brother. Now am I as fearful as a young Thief.
   [Unlocks the Door.]- Hark- what noise is that?- Oh 'twas the Wind that
   plaid amongst the the Boughs.- Belvile stays long, methinks- its time-
   stay for fear of a surprize, I'll hide these Jewels in yonder
   Jessamin. [She goes to lay down the Box. Enter Willmore drunk. Will.
   What the Devil is become of these Fellows, Belvile and Frederick? They
   promis'd to stay at the next corner for me, but who the Devil knows
   the corner of a full Moon?- Now- whereabouts am I?- hah- what have we
   here? a Garden!- a very convenient place to sleep in- hah- what has
   God sent us here?- a Female- by this light, a Woman; I'm a Dog if it
   be not a very Wench.- Flor. He's come!- hah- who's there? Will. Sweet
   Soul, let me salute thy Shoe-string. Flor. 'Tis not my Belvile- good
   Heavens, I know him not.- Who are you, and from whence come you? Will.
   Prithee- prithee, Child- not so many hard Questions- let it suffice I
   am here, Child- Come, come kiss me. Flor. Good Gods! what luck is
   mine? Will. Only good luck, Child, parlous good luck.- Come hither,-
   'tis a delicate shining Wench,- by this Hand she's perfum'd, and
   smells like any Nosegay.- Prithee, dear Soul, let's not play the Fool,
   and lose time,- precious time- for as Gad shall save me, I'm as honest
   a Fellow as breathes, tho I am a little disguis'd at present.- Come, I
   say,- why, thou may'st be free with me, I'll be very secret. I'll not
   boast who 'twas oblig'd me, not I- for hang me if I know thy Name.
   Flor. Heavens! what a filthy beast is this! Will. I am so, and thou
   oughtst the sooner to lie with me for that reason,- for look you,
   Child, there will be no Sin in't, because 'twas neither design'd nor
   premeditated; 'tis pure Accident on both sides- that's a certain thing
   now- Indeed should I make love to you, and you vow Fidelity- and swear
   and lye till you believ'd and yielded- Thou art therefore (as thou art
   a good Christian) oblig'd in Conscience to deny me nothing. Now- come,
   be kind, without any more idle prating. Flor. Oh, I am ruin'd- wicked
   Man, unhand me. Will. Wicked! Egad, Child, a Judge, were he young and
   vigorous, and saw those Eyes of thine, would know 'twas they gave the
   first blow- the first provocation.- Come, prithee let's lose no time,
   I say- this is a fine convenient place. Flor. Sir, let me go, I
   conjure you, or I'll call out. Will. Ay, ay, you were best to call
   Witness to see how finely you treat me- do.- Flor. I'll cry Murder,
   Rape, or any thing, if you do not instantly let me go. Will. A Rape!
   Come, come, you lye, you Baggage, you lye: What, I'll warrant you
   would fain have the World believe now that you are not so forward as
   I. No, not you,- why at this time of Night was your Cobweb-door set
   open, dear Spider- but to catch Flies?- Hah come- or I shall be
   damnably angry.- Why what a Coil is here.- Flor. Sir, can you think-
   Will. That you'd do it for nothing? oh, oh, I find what you'd be at-
   look here, here's a Pistole for you- here's a work indeed- here- take
   it, I say.- Flor. For Heaven's sake, Sir, as you're a Gentleman- Will.
   So- now- she would be wheedling me for more- what, you will not take
   it then- you're resolv'd you will not.- Come, come, take it, or I'll
   put it up again; for, look ye, I never give more.- Why, how now,
   Mistress, are you so high i'th' Mouth, a Pistole won't down with you?-
   hah- why, what a work's here- in good time- come, no struggling, be
   gone- But an y'are good at a dumb Wrestle, I'm for ye,- look ye,- I'm
   for ye.- [She struggles with him. Enter Belvile and Frederick. Bel.
   The Door is open a Pox of this mad fellow, I'm angry that we've lost
   him, I durst have sworn he had follow'd us. Fred. But you were so
   hasty, Colonel, to be gone. Flor. Help, help,- Murder!- help- oh, I'm
   ruin'd. Belv. Ha, sure that's Florinda's Voice. [Comes up to them. -A
   Man! Villain, let go that Lady. [A noise. [Will. turns and draws,
   Fred. interposes. Flor. Belvile! Heavens! my Brother too is coming,
   and 'twill be impossible to escape.- Belvile, I conjure you to walk
   under my Chamber-window, from whence I'll give you some instructions
   what to do- This rude Man has undone us. [Exit. Will. Belvile! Enter
   Pedro, Stephano, and other Servants with Lights. Ped. I'm betray'd;
   run, Stephano, and see if Florinda be safe. [Exit Steph. So whoe'er
   they be, all is not well, I'll to Florinda's Chamber. [They fight, and
   Pedro's Party beats 'em out; going out, meets Stephano. Steph. You
   need not, Sir, the poor Lady's fast asleep, and thinks no harm: I
   wou'd not wake her, Sir, for fear of frightning her with your danger.
   Ped. I'm glad she's there- Rascals, how came the Garden- Door open?
   Steph. That Question comes too late, Sir: some of my Fellow-Servants
   Masquerading I'll warrant. Ped. Masquerading! a leud Custom to debauch
   our Youth- there's something more in this than I imagine. [Exeunt.
   SCENE IV. Changes to the Street. Enter Belvile in Rage, Fred. holding
   him, and Willmore melancholy. Will. Why, how the Devil shou'd I know
   Florinda? Belv. Ah plague of your ignorance! if it had not been
   Florinda, must you be a Beast ?- a Brute, a senseles Swine? Will.
   Well, Sir, you see I am endu'd with Patience- I can bear- tho egad
   y're very free with me methinks,- I was in good hopes the Quarrel
   wou'd have been on my side, for so uncivilly interrupting me. Belv.
   Peace, Brute, whilst thou'rt safe- oh, I'm distracted. Will. Nay, nay,
   I'm an unlucky Dog, that's certain. Belv. Ah curse upon the Star that
   rul'd my Birth! or whatsoever other Influence that makes me still so
   wretched. Will. Thou break'st my Heart with these Complaints; there is
   no Star in fault, no Influence but Sack, the cursed Sack I drank.
   Fred. Why, how the Devil came you so drunk? Will. Why, how the Devil
   came you so sober? Belv. A curse upon his thin Skull, he was always
   before-hand that way. Fred. Prithee, dear Colonel, forgive him, he's
   sorry for his fault. Belv. He's always so after he has done a
   mischief- a plague on all such Brutes. Will. By this Light I took her
   for an errant Harlot. Belv. Damn your debaucht Opinion: tell me, Sot,
   hadst thou so much sense and light about thee to distinguish her to be
   a Woman, and could'st not see something about her Face and Person, to
   strike an awful Reverence into thy Soul? Will. Faith no, I consider'd
   her as mere a Woman as I could wish. Belv. 'Sdeath I have no patience-
   draw, or I'll kill you. Will. Let that alone till to morrow, and if I
   set not all right again, use your Pleasure. Belv. To morrow, damn it.
   The spiteful Light will lead me to no happiness. To morrow is
   Antonio's, and perhaps Guides him to my undoing;- oh that I could meet
   This Rival, this powerful Fortunate. Will. What then? Belv. Let thy
   own Reason, or my Rage instruct thee. Will. I shall be finely inform'd
   then, no doubt; hear me, Colonel- hear me- shew me the Man and I'll do
   his Business. Belv. I know him no more than thou, or if I did, I
   should not need thy aid. Will. This you say is Angelica's House, I
   promis'd the kind Baggage to lie with her to Night. [Offers to go in.
   Enter Antonio and his Page. Ant. knocks on the Hilt of his Sword. Ant.
   You paid the thousand Crowns I directed? Page. To the Lady's old
   Woman, Sir, I did. Will. Who the Devil have we here? Belv. I'll now
   plant my self under Florinda's Window, and if I find no comfort there,
   I'll die. [Ex. Belv. and Fred. Enter Moretta. Moret. Page! Page.
   Here's my Lord. Will. How is this, a Piccaroon going to board my
   Frigate! here's one Chase-Gun for you. [Drawing his Sword, justles
   Ant. who turns and draws. They fight, Ant. falls. Moret. Oh, bless us,
   we are all undone! [Runs in, and shuts the Door. Page. Help, Murder!
   [Belvile returns at the noise of fighting. Belv. Ha, the mad Rogue's
   engag'd in some unlucky Adventure again. Enter two or three
   Masqueraders. Masq. Ha, a Man kill'd! Will. How! a Man kill'd! then
   I'll go home to sleep. [Puts up, and reels out. Ex. Masquers another
   way. Belv. Who shou'd it be! pray Heaven the Rogue is safe, for all my
   Quarrel to him. [As Belvile is groping about, enter an Officer and six
   Soldiers. Sold. Who's there? Offic. So, here's one dispatcht- secure
   the Murderer. Belv. Do not mistake my Charity for Murder: I came to
   his Assistance. [Soldiers seize on Belvile. Offic. That shall be
   tried, Sir.- St. Jago, Swords drawn in the Carnival time! [Goes to
   Antonio. Ant. Thy Hand prithee. Offic. Ha, Don Antonio! look well to
   the Villain there.- How is't Sir? Ant. I'm hurt. Belv. Has my Humanity
   made me a Criminal? Offic. Away with him. Belv. What a curst Chance is
   this! [Ex. Soldiers with Belv. Ant. This is the Man that has set upon
   me twice- carry him to my Apartment till you have further Orders from
   me. [To the Officer. Ex. Ant. led. ACT IV. SCENE I. A fine Room.
   Discovers Belvile, as by Dark alone. Belv. When shall I be weary of
   railing on Fortune, who is resolv'd never to turn with Smiles upon
   me?- Two such Defeats in one Night- none but the Devil and that mad
   Rogue could have contriv'd to have plagued me with- I am here a
   Prisoner- but where?- Heaven knows- and if there be Murder done, I can
   soon decide the Fate of a Stranger in a Nation without Mercy- Yet this
   is nothing to the Torture my Soul bows with, when I think of losing my
   fair, my dear Florinda.- Hark- my Door opens- a Light- a Man- and
   seems of Quality- arm'd too.- Now shall I die like a Do, without
   defence. Enter Antonio in a Night-Gown, with a Light; his Arm in a
   Scarf, and a Sword under his Arm: He sets the Candle on the Table.
   Ant. Sir, I come to know what Injuries I have done you, that could
   provoke you to so mean an Action, as to attack me basely, without
   allowing time for my Defence. Belv. Sir, for a Man in my Circumstances
   to plead Innocence, would look like Fear- but view me well, and you
   will find no marks of a Coward on me, nor any thing that betrays that
   Brutality you accuse me of. Ant. In vain, Sir, you impose upon my
   Sense, You are not only he who drew on me last Night, But yesterday
   before the same House, that of Angelica. Yet there is something in
   your Face and Mein- Belv. I own I fought to day in the defence of a
   Friend of mine, with whom you (if you're the same) and your Party were
   first engag'd. Perhaps you think this Crime enough to kill me, But if
   you do, I cannot fear you'll do it basely. Ant. No, Sir, I'll make you
   fit for a Defence with this. [Gives him the Sword. Belv. This
   Gallantry surprizes me- nor know I how to use this Present, Sir,
   against a Man so brave. Ant. You shall not need; For know, I come to
   snatch you from a Danger That is decreed against you; Perhaps your
   Life, or long Imprisonment: And 'twas with so much Courage you
   offended, I cannot see you punisht. Belv. How shall I pay this
   Generosity? Ant. It had been safer to have kill'd another, Than have
   attempted me: To shew your Danger, Sir, I'll let you know my Quality;
   And 'tis the Vice-Roy's Son whom you have wounded. Belv. The
   Vice-Roy's Son! Death and Confusion! was this Plague reserved To
   compleat all the rest?- oblig'd by him! The Man of all the World I
   would destroy. [Aside. Ant. You seem disorder'd, Sir. Belv. Yes, trust
   me, Sir, I am, and 'tis with pain That Man receives such Bounties, Who
   wants the pow'r to pay 'em back again. Ant. To gallant Spirits 'tis
   indeed uneasy; -But you may quickly over-pay me, Sir. Belv. Then I am
   well- kind Heaven! but set us even, That I may fight with him, and
   keep my Honour safe. [Aside. -Oh, I'm impatient, Sir, to be
   discounting The mighty Debt I owe you; command me quickly- Ant. I have
   a Quarrel with a Rival, Sir, About the Maid we love. Belv. Death, tis
   Florinda he means- That Thought destroys my Reason, and I shall kill
   him- [Aside. Ant. My Rival, Sir. Is one has all the Virtues Man can
   boast of. Belv. Death! who shou'd this be? [Aside. Ant. He challeng'd
   me to meet him on the Molo, As soon as Day appear'd; but last Night's
   quarrel Has made my Arm unfit to guide a Sword. Belv. I apprehend you,
   Sir, you'd have me kill the Man That lays a claim to the Maid you
   speak of. -I'll do't- I'll fly to do it. Ant. Sir, do you know her?
   Belv. -No, Sir, but 'tis enough she is admired by you. Ant. Sir, I
   shall rob you of the Glory on't, For you must fight under my Name and
   Dress. Belv. That Opinion must be strangely obliging that makes You
   think I can personate the brave Antonio, Whom I can but strive to
   imitate. Ant. You say too much to my Advantage. Come, Sir, the Day
   appears that calls you forth. Within, Sir, is the Habit. [Exit
   Antonio. Belv. Fantastick Fortune, thou deceitful Light, That cheats
   the wearied Traveller by Night, Tho on a Precipice each step you
   tread, I am resolv'd to follow where you lead. [Exit. SCENE II. The
   Molo. Enter Florinda and Callis in Masques, with Stephano. Flor. I'm
   dying with my fears; Belvile's not coming, As I expected, underneath
   my Window, Makes me believe that all those Fears are true. [Aside.
   -Canst thou not tell with whom my Brother fights? Steph. No, Madam,
   they were both in Masquerade, I was by when they challeng'd one
   another, and they had decided the Quarrel then, but were prevented by
   some Cavaliers; which made 'em put it off till now- but I am sure 'tis
   about you they fight. Flor. Nay then 'tis with Belvile, for what other
   Lover have I that dares fight for me, except Antonio? and he is too
   much in favour with my Brother- If it be he, for whom shall I direct
   my Prayers to Heaven? [Aside. Steph. Madam, I must leave you; for if
   my Master see me, I shall be hang'd for being your Conductor.- I
   escap'd narrowly for the Excuse I made for you last night i'th'
   Garden. Flor. And I'll reward thee for't- prithee no more. [Exit.
   Steph. Enter Don Pedro in his Masquing Habit. Pedro. Antonio's late to
   day, the place will fill, and we may be prevented. [Walks about. Flor.
   Antonio! sure I heard amiss. [Aside. Pedro. But who would not excuse a
   happy Lover. When soft fair Arms comfine the yielding Neck; And the
   kind Whisper languishingly breathes, Must you be gone so soon? Sure I
   had dwelt for ever on her Bosom. -But stay, he's here. Enter Belvile
   drest in Antonio's Clothes. Flor. 'Tis not Belvile, half my Fears are
   vanisht. Pedro. Antonio!- Belv. This must be he. [Aside. You're early,
   Sir,- I do not use to be out-done this way. Pedro. The wretched, Sir,
   are watchful, and' tis enough You have the advantage of me in
   Angelica. Belv. Angelica! Or I've mistook my Man! Or else Antonio, Can
   he forget his Interest in Florinda, And fight for common Prize?
   [Aside. Pedro. Come, Sir, you know our terms- Belv. By Heaven, not I.
   [Aside. -No talking, I am ready, Sir. [Offers to fight. Flor. runs in.
   Flor. Oh, hold! whoe'er you be, I do conjure you bold. If you strike
   here- I die- [To Belv. Pedro. Florinda! Belv. Florinda imploring for
   my Rival! Pedro. Away, this Kindness is unseasonable. [Puts her by,
   they fight; she runs in just as Belv. disarms Pedro. Flor. Who are
   you, Sir, that dare deny my Prayers? Belv. Thy Prayers destroy him; if
   thou wouldst preserve him. Do that thou'rt unacquainted with, and
   curse him. [She holds him. Flor. By all you hold most dear, by her you
   love, I do conjure you, touch him not. Belv. By her I love! See- I
   obey- and at your Feet resign The useless Trophy of my Victory. [Lays
   his sword at her Feet. Pedro. Antonio, you've done enough to prove you
   love Florinda. Belv. Love Florinda! Does Heaven love Adoration,
   Pray'r, or Penitence? Love her! here Sir,- your Sword again. [Snatches
   up the Sword, and gives it him. Upon this Truth I'll fight my Life
   away. Pedro. No, you've redeem'd my Sister, and my Friendship. Belv.
   Don Pedro! [He gives him Flor. and pulls off his Vizard to shew his
   Face, and puts it on again. Pedro. Can you resign your Claims to other
   Women, And give your Heart intirely to Florinda? Belv. Intire, as
   dying Saints Confessions are. I can delay my happiness no longer. This
   minute let me make Florinda mine: Pedro. This minute let it be- no
   time so proper, This Night my Father will arrive from Rome, And
   possibly may hinder what we propose. Flor. Oh Heavens! this Minute!
   [Enter Masqueraders, and pass over. Belv. Oh, do not ruin me! Pedro.
   The place begins to fill; and that we may not be observ'd, do you walk
   off to St. Peter's Church, where I will meet you, and conclude your
   Happiness. Belv. I'll meet you there- if there be no more Saints
   Churches in Naples. [Aside. Flor. Oh stay, Sir, and recall your hasty
   Doom: Alas I have not yet prepar'd my Heart To entertain so strange a
   Guest. Pedro. Away, this silly Modesty is assum'd too late. Belv.
   Heaven, Madam! what do you do? Flor. Do! despise the Man that lays a
   Tyrant's Claim To what he ought to conquer by Submission. Belv. You do
   not know me- move a little this way. [Draws her aside. Flor. Yes, you
   may even force me to the Altar, But not the holy Man that offers there
   Shall force me to be thine. [Pedro talks to Callis this while. Belv.
   Oh do not lose so blest an opportunity! See- 'tis your Belvile- not
   Antonio, Whom your mistaken Scorn and Anger ruins. [Pulls off his
   Vizard. Flor. Belvile! Where was my Soul it cou'd not meet thy Voice,
   And take this knowledge in? [As they are talking, enter Willmore
   finely drest, and Frederick. Will. No Intelligence! no News of Belvile
   yet- well I am the most unlucky Rascal in Nature- ha!- am I deceiv'd-
   or is it he- look, Fred.- 'tis he- my dear Belvile. [Runs and embraces
   him. Belv. Vizard falls out on's Hand. Belv. Hell and Confusion seize
   thee! Pedro. Ha! Belvile! I beg your Pardon, Sir. [Takes Flor. from
   him. Belv. Nay, touch her not, she's mine by Conquest, Sir. I won her
   by my Sword. Will. Did'st thou so- and egad, Child, we'll keep her by
   the by the Sword. [Draws on Pedro, Belv. goes between. Belv. Stand
   off. Thou'rt so profanely leud, so curst by Heaven, All Quarrels thou
   espousest must be fatal. Will. Nay, an you he so hot, my Valour's coy,
   And shall be courted when you want it next. [Puts up his Sword. Belv.
   You know I ought to claim a Victor's Right, [To Pedro. But you're the
   Brother to divine Florinda, To whom I'm such a Slave- to purchase her,
   I durst not hurt the Man she holds so dear. Pedro. 'Twas by Antonio's,
   not by Belvile's Sword, This Question should have been decided, Sir: I
   must confess much to your Bravery's due, Both now, and when I met you
   last in Arms. But I am nicely punctual in my word, As Men of Honour
   ought, and beg your Pardon. -For this Mistake another Time shall
   clear. -This was some Plot between you and Belvile: But I'll prevent
   you. [Aside to Flor. as they are going out. [Belv. looks after her,
   and begins to walk up and down in a Rage. Will. Do not be modest now,
   and lose the Woman: but if we shall fetch her back, so- Belv. Do not
   speak to me. Will. Not speak to you!- Egad, I'll speak to you, and
   will be answered too. Belv. Will you, Sir? Will. I know I've done some
   mischief, but I'm so dull a Puppy, that I am the Son of a Whore, if I
   know how, or where- prithee inform my Understanding.- Belv. Leave me I
   say, and leave me instantly. Will. I will not leave you in this
   humour, nor till I know my Crime. Belv. Death, I'll tell you, Sir-
   [Draws and runs at Will. he runs out; Belv. after him, Fred.
   interposes. Enter Angelica, Moretta, and Sebastian. Ang. Ha-
   Sebastian- Is not that Willmore? haste, haste and bring, him back.
   Fred. The Colonel's mad- I never saw him thus before; I'll after 'em,
   lest he do some mischief, for I am sure Willmore will not draw on him.
   [Exit. Ang. I am all Rage! my first desires defeated For one, for
   ought he knows, that has no Other Merit than her Quality,- Her being
   Don Pedro's Sister- He loves her: I know 'tis so- dull, dull,
   insensible- He will not see me now tho oft invited; And broke his Word
   last night- false perjur'd Man! -He that but yesterday fought for my
   Favours, And would have made his Life a Sacrifice To've gain'd one
   Night with me, Must now be hired and courted to my Arms. Moret. I told
   you what wou'd come on't, but Moretta's an old doating Fool- Why did
   you give him five hundred Crowns, but to set himself out for other
   Lovers? You shou'd have kept him poor, if you had meant to have had
   any good from him. Ang. Oh, name not such mean Trifles.- Had I given
   him all My Youth has earn'd from Sin, I had not lost a Thought nor
   Sigh upon't. But I have give him my eternal Rest, My whole Repose, my
   future Joys, my Heart; My Virgin Heart. Moretta! oh 'tis gone! Moret.
   Curse on him, here he comes; How fine she has made him too! Enter
   Willmore and Sebast. Ang. turns and walks away. Will. How now, turn'd
   Shadow? Fly when I pursue, and follow when I fly! Stay gentle Shadow
   of my Dove, [Sings. And tell me e'er I go, Whether the Substance may
   not prove A fleeting Thing like you. There's a soft kind Look
   remaining yet. [As she turns she looks on him. Ang. Well, Sir, you may
   be gay; all Happiness, all Joys pursue you still, Fortune's your
   Slave, and gives you every hour choice of new Hearts and Beauties,
   till you are cloy'd with the repeated Bliss, which others vainly
   languish for- But know, false Man, that I shall be reveng'd. [Turns
   away in a Rage. Will. So, 'gad, there are of those faint-hearted
   Lovers, whom such a sharp Lesson next their Hearts would make as
   impotent as Fourscore- pox o' this whining- my Bus'ness is to laugh
   and love- a pox on't; I hate your sullen Lover, a Man shall lose as
   much time to put you in Humour now, as would serve to gain a new
   Woman. Ang. I scorn to cool that Fire I cannot raise, Or do the
   Drudgery of your virtuous Mistress. Will. A virtuous Mistress! Death,
   what a thing thou hast found out for me! why what the Devil should I
   do with a virtuous Woman?- a fort of ill-natur'd Creatures, that take
   a Pride to torment a Lover. Virtue is but an Infirmity in Women, a
   Disease that renders even the handsom ungrateful; whilst the
   ill-favour'd, for want of Sollicitations and Address, only fancy
   themselves so.- I have lain with a Woman of Quality, who has all the
   while been railing at Whores. Ang.I will not answer for your
   Mistress's Virtue, Tho she be young enough to know no Guilt: And I
   could wish you would persuade my Heart, 'Twas the two hundred thousand
   Crowns you courted. Will. Two hundred thousand Crowns! what Story's
   this?- what Trick?- what Woman?- ha. Ang. How strange you make it!
   have you forgot the Creature you entertain'd on the Piazza last night?
   Will. Ha, my Gipsy worth two hundred thousand Crowns!- oh how I long
   to be with her- pox, I knew she was of Quality. [Aside. Ang. False
   Man, I see my Ruin in thy Face. How many vows you breath'd upon my
   Bosom, Never to be unjust- have you forgot so soon? Will. Faith no, I
   was just coming to repeat 'em- but here's a Humour indeed- would make
   a Man a Saint- Wou'd she'd be angry enough to leave me, and command me
   not to wait on her. [Aside. Enter Hellena, drest in Man's Clothes.
   Hell. This must be Angelica, I know it by her mumping Matron here- Ay,
   ay, 'tis she: my mad Captain's with her too, for all his swearing- how
   this unconstant Humour makes me love him:- pray, good grave
   Gentlewoman, is not this Angelica? Moret. My too young Sir, it is- I
   hope 'tis one from Don Antonio. [Goes to Angelica. Hell. Well,
   something I'll do to vex him for this. [Aside. Ang. I will not speak
   with him; am I in humour to receive a Lover? Will. Not speak with him!
   why I'll be gone- and wait your idler minutes- Can I shew less
   Obedience to the thing I love so fondly? [Offers to go. Ang. A fine
   Excuse this- stay- Will. And hinder your Advantage: should I repay
   your Bounties so ungratefully? Ang. Come hither, Boy,- that I may let
   you see How much above the Advantages you name I prize one Minute's
   Joy with you. Will. Oh, you destroy me with this Endearment.
   [Impatient to be gone. -Death, how shall I get away?- Madam, 'twill
   not be fit I should be seen with you- besides, it will not be
   convenient and I've a Friend- that's dangerously sick. Ang. I see
   you're impatient- yet you shall stay. Will. And miss my Assignation
   with my Gipsy. [Aside, and walks about impatiently. Hell. Madam,
   [Moretta brings Hellena, who addresses You'l hardly pardon my
   Intrusion, (her self to Angelica. When you shall know my Business; And
   I'm too young to tell my Tale with Art: But there must be a wolidrous
   store of Goodness Where so much Beauty dwells. Ang. A pretty Advocate,
   whoever sent thee, -Prithee proceed- Nay, Sir, you shall not go. [To
   Will. who is stealing off. Will. Then shall I lose my dear Gipsy for
   ever. -Pox on't, she stays me out of spite. [Aside. Hell. I am related
   to a Lady, Madam, Young, rich, and nobly born, but has the fate To be
   in love with a young English Gentleman. Strangely she loves him, at
   first sight she lov'd him, But did adore him when she heard him speak;
   For he, she said, had Charms in every word, That fail'd not to
   surprize, to wound, and conquer- Will. Ha, Egad I hope this concerns
   me. [Aside Ang. 'Tis my false Man, he means- wou'd he were gone. This
   Praise will raise his Pride and ruin me- Well, Since you are so
   impatient to be gone, I will release you, Sir. [To Will. Will. Nay,
   then I'm sure 'twas me he spoke of, this cannot be the Effects of
   Kindness in her. [Aside. -No, Madam, I've consider'd better on't, And
   will not give you cause of Jealousy. Ang. But, Sir, I've- business,
   that- Will. This shall not do, I know 'tis but to try me. Ang. Well,
   to your Story, Boy,- tho 'twill undo me. [Aside. Hell. With this
   Addition to his other Beauties, He won her unresisting tender Heart,
   He vow'd and sigh'd, and swore he lov'd her dearly; And she believ'd
   the cunning Flatterer, And thought her self the happiest Maid alive:
   To day was the appointed time by both, To consummate their Bliss; The
   Virgin, Altar, and the Priest were drest, And whilst she languisht for
   the expected Bridegroom, She heard, he paid his broken Vows to you.
   Will. So, this is some dear Rogue that's in love with me, and this way
   lets me know it; or if it be not me, she means some one whose place I
   may supply. [Aside. Ang. Now I perceive The cause of thy Impatience to
   be gone, And all the business of this glorious Dress. Will. Damn the
   young Prater, I know not what he means. Hell. Madam, In your fair Eyes
   I read too much concern To tell my farther Business. Ang. Prithee,
   sweet youth, talk on, thou may'st perhaps Raise here a Storm that may
   undo my Passion, And then I'll grant thee any thing. Hell. Madam, 'tis
   to intreat you, (oh unreasonable!) You wou'd not see this Stranger; ;
   For if you do, she vows you are undone, Tho Nature never made a Man so
   excellent; And sure he'ad been a God, but for Inconstancy. Will. Ah,
   Rogue, how finely he's instructed! [Aside. -'Tis plain some Woman that
   has seen me en passant. Ang. Oh, I shall burst with Jealousy! do you
   know the Man you speak of?- Hell. Yes, Madam, he us'd to be in Buff
   and Scarlet. Ang. Thou, false as Hell, what canst thou say to this?
   [To Will. Will. By Heaven- Ang. Hold, do not damn thy self- Hell. Nor
   hope to be believ'd. [He walks about, they follow. Ang. Oh, perjur'd
   Man! Is't thus you pay my generous Passion back? Hell. Why wou'd you,
   Sir, abuse my Lady's Faith? Ang. And use me so inhumanly? Hell. A Maid
   so young so innocent- Will. Ah, young Devil! Ang. Dost thou not know
   thy Life is in my Power? Hell. Or think my Lady cannot be reveng'd?
   Will. So, so, the Storm comes finely on. [Aside. Ang. Now thou art
   silent, Guilt has struck thee dumb. Oh, hadst thou still been so, I'd
   liv'd in safety. [She turns away and weeps. Will. Sweetheart, the
   Lady's Name and House- quickly: I'm impatient to be with her.- [Aside
   to Hellena, looks towards Angel. to watch her turning; and as she
   comes towards them, he meets her. Hell. So now is he for another
   Woman. [Aside. Will. The impudent'st young thing in Nature! I cannot
   persuade him out of his Error, Madam. Ang. I know he's in the right,-
   yet thou'st a Tongue That wou'd persuade him to deny his Faith. [In
   Rage walks away. Will. Her Name, her Name, dear Boy- [Said softly to
   Hell. Hell Have you forgot it, Sir? Will. Oh, I perceive he's not to
   know I am a Stranger to his Lady. [Aside. -Yes, yes, I do know- but- I
   have forgot the- [Angel. turns. -By Heaven, such early confidence I
   never saw. Ang. Did I not charge you with this Mistress, Sir? Which
   you denied, tho I beheld your Perjury. This little Generosity of thine
   has render'd back my Heart. [Walks away. Will. So, you have made sweet
   work here, my little mischief; Look your Lady be kind and good-natur'd
   now, or I shall have but a cursed Bargain on't. [Ang. turns towards
   them. -The Rogue's bred up to Mischief, Art thou so great a Fool to
   credit him? Ang. Yes, I do; and you in vain impose upon me. -Come
   hither, Boy- Is not this he you speak of? Hell. I think- it is; I
   cannot swear, but I vow he has just such another lying Lover's look.
   [Hell. looks in his Face, he gazes on her. Will. Hah! do not I know
   that Face?- By Heaven, my little Gipsy! what a dull Dog was I? Had I
   but lookt that way, I'd known her. Are all my hopes of a new Woman
   banisht? [Aside. -Egad, if I don't fit thee for this, hang me. -Madam,
   I have found out the Plot. Hell. Oh Lord, what does he say? am I
   discover'd now? Will. Do you see this young Spark here? Hell. He'll
   tell her who I am. Will. Who do you think this is? Hell. Ay, ay, he
   does know me.- Nay, dear Captain, I'm undone if you discover me. Will.
   Nay, nay, no cogging; she shall know what a precious Mistress I have.
   Hell. Will you be such a Devil? Will. Nay, nay, I'll teach you to
   spoil sport you will not make.- This small Ambassador comes not from a
   Person of Quality, as you imagine, and he says; but from a very errant
   Gipsy, the talkingst, pratingst, cantingst little Animal thou ever
   saw'st. Ang. What news you tell me! that's the thing I mean. Hell.
   Wou'd I were well off the place.- If ever I go a Captain- hunting
   again.- [Aside. Will. Mean that thing? that Gipsy thing? thou may'st
   as well be jealous of thy Monkey, or Parrot as her: a German Motion
   were worth a dozen of her, and a Dream were a better Enjoyment, a
   Creature of Constitution fitter for Heaven than Man. Hell. Tho I'm
   sure he lyes, yet this vexes me. [Aside. Ang. You are mistaken, she's
   a Spanish Woman Made up of no such dull Materials. Will. Materials!
   Egad, and she be made of any that will either dispense, or admit of
   Love, I'll be bound to countinence. Hell. Unreasonable Man, do you
   think so? [Aside to him. Will. You may Return, my little Brazen Head,
   and tell your Lady, that till she be handsom enough to be belov'd, or
   I dull enough to be religious, there will be small hopes of me. Ang.
   Did you not promise then to marry her? Will. Not I, by Heaven. Ang.
   You cannot undeceive my fears and torments, till you have vow'd you
   will not marry her. Hell. If he swears that, he'll be reveng'd on me
   indeed for all my Rogueries. Ang. I know what Arguments you'll bring
   against me, Fortune and Honour. Will. Honour! I tell you, I hate it in
   your Sex; and those that fancy themselves possest of that Foppery, are
   the most impertinently troublesom of all Woman-kind, and will
   transgress nine Commandments to keep one: and to satisfy your Jealousy
   I swear- Hell. Oh, no swearing, dear Captain- [Aside to him. Will. If
   it were possible I should ever be inclin'd to marry, it should be some
   kind young Sinner, one that has Generosity enough to give a favour
   handsomely to one that can ask it discreetly, one that has Wit enough
   to manage an Intrigue of Love- oh, how civil such a Wench is, to a Man
   than does her the Honour to marry her. Ang. By Heaven, there's no
   Faith in any thing he says. Enter Sebastian. Sebast. Madam, Don
   Antonio- Ang. Come hither. Hell. Ha, Antonio! he may be coming hither,
   and he'll certainly discover me, I'll therefore retire without a
   Ceremony. [Exit Hellena. Ang. I'll see him, get my Coach ready.
   Sebast. It waits you, Madam. Will. This is lucky: what, Madam, now I
   may be gone and leave you to the enjoyment of my Rival? Ang. Dull Man,
   that callst not see how ill, how poor That false dissimulation looks-
   Be gone, And never let me see thy cozening Face again, Lest I relapse
   and kill thee. Will. Yes, you can spare me now,- farewell till you are
   in a better Humour- I'm glad of this release- Now for my Gipsy: For
   tho to worse we change, yet still we find New Joys, New Charms, in a
   new Miss that's kind. [Ex. Will. Ang. He's gone, and in this Ague of
   My Soul The shivering Fit returns; Oh with what willing haste he took
   his leave, As if the long'd for Minute were arriv'd, Of some blest
   Assignation. In vain I have consulted all my Charms, In vain this
   Beauty priz'd, in vain believ'd My eyes cou'd kindle any lasting
   Fires. I had forgot my Name, my Infamy, And the Reproach that Honour
   lays on those That dare pretend a sober passion here. Nice Reputation,
   tho it leave behind More Virtues than inhabit where that dwells, Yet
   that once gone, those virtues shine no more. -Then since I am not fit
   to belov'd, I am resolv'd to think on a Revenge On him that sooth'd me
   thus to my undoing. [Exeunt. SCENE III. A Street. Enter Florinda and
   Valeria in Habits different from what they have been seen in. Flor.
   We're happily escap'd, yet I tremble still. Val. A Lover and fear!
   why, I am but half a one, and yet I have Courage for any Attempt.
   Would Hellena were here. I wou'd fain have had her as deep in this
   Mischief as we, she'll fare but ill else I doubt. Flor. She pretended
   a Visit to the Augustine Nuns, but I believe some other design carried
   her out, pray Heavens we light on her. -Prithee what didst do with
   Callis? Val. When I saw no Reason wou'd do good on her, I follow'd her
   into the Wardrobe, and as she was looking for something in a great
   Chest, I tumbled her in by the Heels, snatcht the Key of the Apartment
   where you were confin'd, lockt her in, and left her bauling for help.
   Flor. 'Tis well you resolve to follow my Fortunes, for thou darest
   never appear at home again after such an Action. Val. That's according
   as the young Stranger and I shall agree- But to our business- I
   deliver'd your Letter, your Note to Belvile, when I got out under
   pretence of going to Mass, I found him at his Lodging, and believe me
   it came seasonably; for never was Man in so desperate a Condition. I
   told him of your Resolution of making your escape to day, if your
   Brother would be absent long enough to permit you; if not, die rather
   than be Antonio's. Flor. Thou shou'dst have told him I was confin'd to
   my Chamber upon my Brother's suspicion, that the Business on the Molo
   was a Plot laid between him and I. Val. I said all this, and told him
   your Brother was now gone to his Devotion and he resolves to visit
   every Church till he find him; and not only undeceive him in that, but
   caress him so as shall delay his return home. Flor. Oh Heavens! he's
   here, and Belvile with him too. [They put on their Vizards. Enter Don
   Pedro, Belvile, Willmore; Belvile and Don Pedro seeming in serious
   Discourse. Val. Walk boldly by them, I'll come at a distance, lest he
   suspect us. [She walks by them, and looks back on them. Will. Ha! A
   Woman! and of an excellent Mien! Ped. She throws a kind look back on
   you. Will. Death, tis a likely Wench, and that kind look shall not be
   cast away- I'll follow her. Belv. Prithee do not. Will. Do not! By
   Heavens to the Antipodes, with such an Invitation. [She goes out, and
   Will. follows her. Belv. 'Tis a mad Fellow for a Wench. Enter Fred.
   Fred. Oh Colonel, such News. Belv. Prithee what? Fred. News that will
   make you laugh in spite of Fortune. Belv. What, Blunt has had some
   damn'd Trick put upon him, cheated, bang'd, or clapt? Fred. Cheated,
   Sir, rarely cheated of all but his Shirt and Drawers; the
   unconscionable Whore too turn'd Him out before Consummation, so that
   traversing, the Streets at Midnight, the Watch found him in this
   Fresco, and conducted him home: By Heaven 'tis such a slight, and yet
   I durst as well have been hang'd as laugh at him, or pity him; he
   beats all that do but ask him a Question, and is in such an Humour-
   Ped. Who is't has met with this ill usage, Sir? Belv. A Friend of
   ours, whom you must see for Mirth's sake. I'll imploy him to give
   Florinda time for an escape. [Aside. Ped. Who is he? Belv. A young
   Countryman of ours, one that has been educated at so plentiful a rate,
   he yet ne'er knew the want of Money, and 'twill be a great Jest to see
   how simply he'll look without it. For my part I'll lend him none, and
   the Rogue knows not how to put on a borrowing Face, and ask first.
   I'll let him see how good 'tis to play our parts whilst I play his-
   Prithee, Fred. do go home and keep him in that posture till we come.
   [Exeunt. Enter Florinda from the farther end of the Scene, looking
   behind her. Flor. I am follow'd still- hah- my Brother too advancing
   this way, good Heavens defend me from being seen by him. [She goes
   off. Enter Willmore, and after him Valeria, at a little distance.
   Will. Ah! There she sails, she looks back as she were willing to be
   boarded, I'll warrant her Prize. [He goes out, Valeria following.
   Enter Hellena, just as he goes out, with a Page. Hell. Hah, is not
   that my Captain that has a Woman in chase?- 'tis not Angelica. Boy,
   follow those People at a distance, and bring me an Account where they
   go in.- I'll find his Haunts, and plague him every where.- ha- my
   Brother! [Exit Page. [Bel. Wil. Ped. cross the Stage: Hell. runs off.
   Scene changes to another Street. Enter Florinda. Flor. What shall I
   do, my Brother now pursues me. Will no kind Power protect me from his
   Tyranny? - Hah, here's a Door open, I'll venture in, since nothing can
   be worse than to fall into his Hands, my Life and Honour are at stake,
   and my Necessity has no choice. [She goes in. Enter Valeria, and
   Hellena's Page Peeping after Florinda. Pag. Here she went in, I shall
   remember this House. [Exit Boy. Val. This is Belvile's Lodgings; she's
   gone in as readily as if she knew it- hah- here's that mad Fellow
   again, I dare not venture in- I'll watch my Opportunity. [Goes aside.
   Enter Willmore, gazing about him. Will. I have lost her hereabouts-
   Pox on't she must not scape me so. [Goes out. Scene changes to Blunt's
   Chamber, discovers him sitting on a Couch in his Shirt and Drawers,
   reading. Blunt. So, now my Mind's a little at Peace, since I have
   resolv'd Revenge- A Pox on this Taylor tho, for not bringing home the
   Clothes I bespoke; and a Pox of all poor Cavaliers, a Man can never
   keep a spare Suit for 'em; and I shall have these Rogues come in and
   find me naked; and then I'm undone; but I'm resolv'd to arm my self-
   the Rascals shall not insult over me too much. [Puts on an old rusty
   Sword and Buff-Belt. -Now, how like a Morrice-Dancer I am equipt- a
   fine Lady-like Whore to cheat me thus, without affording me a Kindness
   for my Money, a Pox light on her, I shall never be reconciled to the
   Sex more, she has made me as faithless as a Physician, as uncharitable
   as a Churchman, and as ill-natur'd as a Poet. O how I'll use all
   Women-kind hereafter! what wou'd I give to have one of 'em within my
   reach now! any Mortal thing in Petticoats, kind Fortune, send me; and
   I'll forgive thy last Night's Malice- Here's a cursed Book too, (a
   Warning to all young Travellers) that can instruct me how to prevent
   such Mischiefs now 'tis too late. Well 'tis a rare convenient thing to
   read a little now and then, as well as hawk and hunt. [Sits down again
   and reads. Enter to him Florinda. Flor. This House is haunted sure
   'tis is well furnisht and no living thing inhabits it- hah- a Man!
   Heavens how he's attir'd! sure 'tis some Rope-dancer, or
   Fencing-Master; I tremble now for fear, and yet I must venture now to
   speak to him- Sir, if I may not interrupt your Meditations- [He starts
   up and gazes. Blunt. Hah- what's here? Are my wishes granted? and is
   not that a she Creature? Adsheartlikins 'tis! what wretched thing art
   thou- hah! Flor. Charitable Sir, you've told your self already what I
   am; a very wretched Maid, forc'd by a strange unlucky Accident, to
   seek a safety here, and must be ruin'd, if you do not grant it. Blunt.
   Ruin'd! Is there any Ruin so inevitable as that which now threatens
   thee? Dost thou, know, miserable Woman, into what Den of Mischiefs
   thou art fall'n? what a Bliss of Confusion?- hah- dost not see
   something in my looks that frights thy guilty Soul, and makes thee
   wish to change that Shape of Woman for any humble Animal or Devil? for
   those were safer for thee, and less mischievous. Flor. Alas, what mean
   you, Sir? I must confess your Looks have something in 'em makes me
   fear; but I beseech you, as you seem a Gentleman, pity a harmless
   Virgin, that takes your House for Sanctuary. Blunt. Talk on, talk on,
   and weep too, till my faith return. Do flatter me out of my Senses
   again- a harmless Virgin with a Pox, as much one as t'other,
   adsheartlikins. Why, what the Devil can I not be safe in my house for
   you? not in my Chamber? nay, even being naked too cannot secure me.
   This is an Impudence greater than has invaded me yet.- Come, no
   Resistance. [Pulls her rudely. Flor. Dare you be so cruel? Blunt.
   Cruel, adsheartlikins as a Gally-slave, or a Spanish Whore: Cruel,
   yes, I will kiss and beat thee all over; kiss, and see thee all over;
   thou shalt lie with me too, not that I care for the Injoyment, but to
   let you see I have ta'en deliberated Malice to thee, and will be
   revenged on one Whore for the Sins of another; I will smile and
   deceive thee, flatter thee, and beat thee, kiss and swear, and lye to
   thee, imbrace thee and rob thee, as she did me, fawn on thee, and
   strip thee stark naked, then hang thee out at my Window by the Heels,
   with a Paper of scurvey Verses fasten'd to thy Breast, in praise of
   damnable Women- Come, come along. Flor. Alas, Sir, must I be
   sacrific'd for the Crimes of the most infamous of my Sex? I never
   understood the Sins you name. Blunt. Do, persuade the Fool you love
   him, or that one of you can be just or honest; tell me I was not an
   easy Coxcomb, or any strange impossible Tale: it will be believ'd
   sooner than thy false Showers or Protestations. A Generation of damn'd
   Hypocrites, to flatter my very Clothes from my back! dissembling
   Witches! are these the Returns you make an honest Gentleman that
   trusts, believes, and loves you?- But if I be not even with you -Come
   along, or I shall- [Pulls her again. Enter Frederick. Fred. Hah,
   what's here to do? Blunt. Adsheartlikins, Fred. I am glad thou art
   come, to be a Witness of my dire Revenge. Fred. What's this, a Person
   of Quality too, who is upon the Ramble to supply the Defects of some
   grave impotent Husband? Blunt. No, this has another Pretence, some
   very unfortunate Accident brought her hither, to save a Life pursued
   by I know not who, or why, and forc'd to take Sanctuary here at Fools
   Haven. Adsheartlikins to me of all Mankind for Protection? Is the Ass
   to be cajol'd again, think ye? No, young one, no Prayers or Tears
   shall mitigate my Rage; therefore prepare for both my Pleasure of
   Enjoyment and Revenge, for I am resolved to make up my Loss here on
   thy Body, I'll take it out in kindness and in beating. Fred. Now,
   Mistress of mine, what do you think of this? Flor. I think he will
   not- dares not be so barbarous. Fred. Have a care, Blunt, she fetch'd
   a deep Sigh, she is inamour'd with thy Shirt and Drawers, she'll strip
   thee even of that. There are of her Calling such unconscionable
   Baggages, and such dexterous Thieves, they'll flea a Man, and he shall
   ne'er miss his Skin, till he feels the Cold. There was a Country-man
   of ours robb'd of a Row off Teeth whilst he was sleeping, which the
   Jilt made him buy again when he wak'd- You see, Lady, how little
   Reason we have to trust you. Blunt. 'Dsheartlikins, why, this is most
   abominable. Flor. Some such Devils there may be, but by all that's
   holy I am none such, I entered here to save a Life in danger. Blunt.
   For no goodness I'll warrant her. Fred. Faith, Damsel, you had e'en
   confess the plain Truth, for we are Fellows not to be caught twice in
   the same Trap: Look on that Wreck, a tight Vessel when he set out of
   Haven, well trim'd and laden, and see how a Female Piccaroon of this
   Island of Rogues has shatter'd him, and canst thou hope for any Mercy?
   Blunt. No, no, Gentlewoman, come along, adsheartlikins we must be
   better acquainted- we'll both lie with her, and then let me alone to
   bang her. Fred. I am ready to serve you in matters of Revenge, that
   has a double Pleasure in't. Blunt. Well said. You hear, little one,
   how you are condemn'd by publick Vote to the Bed within, there's no
   resisting your Destiny, Sweetheart. [Pulls her. Flor. Stay, Sir, I
   have seen you with Belvile, an English Cavalier, for his sake use me
   kindly; you know how, Sir. Blunt. Belvile! why, yes, Sweeting, we do
   know Belvile, and wish he were with us now, he's a Cormorant at Whore
   and Bacon, he'd have a Limb or two of thee, my Virgin Pullet: but 'tis
   no matter, we'll leave him the Bones to pick. Flor. Sir, if you have
   any Esteem for that Belvile, I conjure you to treat me with more
   Gentleness; he'll thank you for the Justice. Fred. Hark ye, Blunt, I
   doubt we are mistaken in this matter. Flor. Sir, If you find me not
   worth Belvile's Care, use me as you please; and that you may think I
   merit better treatment than you threaten- pray take this Present-
   [Gives him a Ring: He looks on it. Blunt. Hum- A Diamond! why, 'tis a
   wonderful Virtue now that lies in this Ring, a mollifying Virtue;
   adsheartlikins there's more persuasive Rhetorick in't, than all her
   Sex can utter. Fred. I begin to suspect something; and 'twou'd anger
   us vilely to be truss'd up for a Rape upon a Maid of Quality, when we
   only believe we ruffle a Harlot. Blunt. Thou art a credulous Fellow,
   but adsheartlikins I have no Faith yet; why, my Saint prattled as
   parlously as this does, she gave me a Bracelet too, a Devil on her:
   but I sent my Man to sell it to day for Necessaries, and it prov'd as
   counterfeit as her Vows of Love. Fred. However let it reprieve her
   till we see Belvile. Blunt. That's hard, yet I will grant it. Enter a
   Servant. Serv. Oh, Sir, the Colonel is just come with his new Friend
   and a Spaniard of Quality, and talks of having you to Dinner with 'em.
   Blunt. 'Dsheartlikins, I'm undone- I would not see 'em for the World:
   Harkye, Fred. lock up the Wench in your Chamber. Fred. Fear nothing,
   Madam, whate'er he threatens, you're safe whilst in my Hands. [Ex.
   Fred. and Flor. Blunt. And, Sirrah- upon your Life, say- I am not at
   home- or that I am asleep- or- or anything- away- I'll prevent them
   comming this way. [Locks the Door and Exeunt. ACT V. SCENE I. Blunt's
   Chamber. After a great knocking as at his Chamber-door enter Blunt
   softly crossing the Stage in his Shirt and Drawers, as before. Ned,
   Ned Blunt, Ned Blunt. [Call within. Blunt. The Rogues are up in Arms,
   'dsheartlikins, this villainous Frederick has betray'd me, they have
   heard of my blessed Fortune. Ned Blunt, Ned, Ned- [and knocking
   within. Belv. Why, he's dead, Sir, without dispute dead, he has not
   been seen to day; let's break open the Door- here- Boy- Blunt. Ha,
   break open the Door! 'dsheartlikins that mad Fellow will be as good as
   his word. Belv. Boy, bring something to force the Door. [A great noise
   within at the Door again. Blunt. So, now must I speak in my own
   Defence, I'll try what Rhetorick will do- hold- hold, what do you
   mean, Gentlemen, what do you mean? Belv. Oh Rogue, art alive? prithee
   open the Door, and convince us. Blunt. Yes, I am alive, Gentlemen- but
   at present a little busy. Belv. How! Blunt grown a man of Business!
   come, come, open, and let's see this Miracle. [within. Blunt. No, no,
   no, no, Gentlemen, 'tis no great Business- but- I am- at- my
   Devotion,- 'dsheartlikins, will you not allow a man time to pray?
   Belv. Turn'd religious! a greater Wonder than the first, therefore
   open quickly, or we shall unhinge, we shall. [within. Blunt. This
   won't do- Why, hark ye, Colonel; to tell you the plain Truth, I am
   about a necessary Affair of Life.- I have a Wench with me- you
   apprehend me? the Devil's in't if they be so uncivil as to disturb me
   now. Will. How, a Wench! Nay, then we must enter and partake; no
   Resistance,- unless it be your Lady of Quality, and then we'll keep
   our distance. Blunt. So, the Business is out. Will. Come, come, lend
   more hands to the Door- now heave altogether- so, well done, my Boys-
   [Breaks open the Door. Enter Belvile, Willmore, Fred. Pedro and
   Belvile's Page: Blunt looks simply, they all laugh at him, he lays his
   hand on his Sword, and comes up to Willmore. Blunt. Hark ye, Sir,
   laugh out your laugh quickly, d'ye hear, and be gone, I shall spoil
   your sport else; 'dsheartlikins, Sir, I shall- the Jest has been
   carried on too long,- a Plague upon my Taylor- [Aside. Will. 'Sdeath,
   how the Whore has drest him! Faith, Sir, I'm sorry. Blunt. Are you so,
   Sir? keep't to your self then, Sir, I advise you, d'ye hear? for I can
   as little endure your Pity as his Mirth. [Lays his Hand on's Sword.
   Belv. Indeed, Willmore, thou wert a little too rough with Ned Blunt's
   Mistress; call a Person of Quality Whore, and one so young, so
   handsome, and so eloquent!- ha, ha, ha. Blunt. Hark ye, Sir, you know
   me, and know I can be angry; have a care- for 'dsheartlikins I can
   fight too- I can, Sir,- do you mark me- no more. Belv. Why so peevish,
   good Ned? some Disappointments, I'll warrant- What! did the jealous
   Count her Husband return just in the nick? Blunt. Or the Devil, Sir,-
   d'ye laugh? [They laugh.] Look ye, settle me a good sober Countenance,
   and that quickly too, or you shall know Ned Blunt is not- Belv. Not
   every Body, we know that. Blunt. Not an Ass, to be laught at, Sir.
   Will. Unconscionable Sinner, to bring a Lover so near his Happiness, a
   vigorous passionate Lover, and then not only cheat him of his
   Moveables, but his Desires too. Belv. Ah, Sir, a Mistress is a Trifle
   with Blunt he'll have a dozen the next time he looks abroad; his Eyes
   have Charms not to be resisted: There needs no more than to expose
   that taking Person to the view of the Fair, and he leads 'em all in
   Triumph. Ped. Sir, tho I'm a stranger to you, I'm ashamed at the
   rudeness of my Nation; and could you learn who did it, would assist
   you to make an Example of 'em. Blunt. Why, ay, there's one speaks
   sense now, and handsomly; and let me tell you Gentlemen, I should not
   have shew'd my self like a Jack-Pudding, thus to have made you Mirth,
   but that I have revenge within my power; for know, I have got into my
   possession a Female, who had better have fallen under any Curse, than
   the Ruin I design her: 'dsheartlikins, she assaulted me here in my own
   Lodgings, and had doubtless committed a Rape upon me, had not this
   Sword defended me. Fred. I knew not that, but o'my Conscience thou
   hadst ravisht her, had she not redeem'd her self with a Ring- let's
   see't, Blunt. [Blunt shews the Ring. Belv. Hah!- the Ring I gave
   Florinda when we exchang'd our Vows!- hark ye, Blunt- [Goes to whisper
   to him. Will. No whispering, good Colonel there's a Woman in the case,
   no whispering. Belv. Hark ye, Fool, be advis'd, and conceal both the
   Ring and the Story, for your Reputation's sake; don't let People know
   what despis'd Cullies we English are: to be cheated and abus'd by one
   Whore, and another rather bribe thee than be kind to thee, it is an
   Infamy to our Nation. Will. Come, come, Where's the Wench? we'll see
   her, let her be what she will, we'll see her. Ped. Ay, ay, let us see
   her, I can soon discover whether she be of Quality, or for your
   Diversion. Blunt. She's in Fred's Custody. Will. Come, come, the Key.
   [To Fred. who gives him the Key, they are going. Belv. Death! what
   shall I do?- stay, Gentlemen- yet if I hinder 'em, I shall discover
   all- hold, let's go one at once- give me the Key. Will. Nay, hold
   there, Colonel, I'll go first. Fred. Nay, no Dispute, Ned and I have
   the property of her. Will. Damn Property- then we'll draw Cuts. [Belv.
   goes to whisper Will. Nay, no Corruption, good Colonel: come, the
   longest Sword carries her.- [They all draw, forgetting Don Pedro,
   being a Spaniard, had the longest. Blunt. I yield up my Interest to
   you Gentlemen, and that will be Revenge sufficient. Will. The Wench is
   yours- (To Ped.) Pox of his Toledo, I had forgot that. Fred. Come,
   Sir, I'll conduct you to the Lady [Ex. Fred. and Ped. Belv. To hinder
   him will certainly discover- [Aside.] Dost know, dull Beast, what
   Mischief thou hast done? [Will. walking up and down out of Humour.
   Will. Ay, ay, to trust our Fortune to Lots, a Devil on't, 'twas
   madness, that's the Truth on't. Belv. Oh intolerable Sot! Enter
   Florinda, running masqu'd, Pedro after her, Will. gazing round her.
   Flor. Good Heaven, defend me from discovery. [Aside. Pedro. 'Tis but
   in vain to fly me, you are fallen to my Lot. Belv. Sure she is
   undiscover'd yet, but now I fear there is no way to bring her off.
   Will. Why, what a Pox is not this my Woman, the same I follow'd but
   now? [Ped. talking to Florinda, who walks up and down. Ped. As if I
   did not know ye, and your Business here. Flor. Good Heaven! I fear he
   does indeed- [Aside. Ped. Come, pray be kind, I know you meant to be
   so when you enter'd here, for these are proper Gentlemen. Will. But,
   Sir- perhaps the Lady will not be impos'd upon, she'll chuse her Man.
   Ped. I am better bred, than not to leave her Choice free. Enter
   Valeria, and is surpriz'd at the Sight of Don Pedro. Val. Don Pedro
   here! there's no avoiding him. [Aside. Flor. Valeria! then I'm undone-
   [Aside. Val. Oh! have I found you, Sir- [To Pedro, running to him.
   -The strangest Accident- if I had breath- to tell it. Ped. Speak- is
   Florinda safe? Hellena well? Val. Ay, ay, Sir- Florinda- is safe- from
   any fears of you. Ped. Why, where's Florinda?- speak. Val. Ay, where
   indeed, Sir? I wish I could inform you,- But to hold you no longer in
   doubt- Flor. Oh, what will she say! [Aside. Val. She's fled away in
   the Habit of one of her Pages, Sir- but Callis thinks you may retrieve
   her yet, if you make haste away; she'll tell you, Sir, the rest- if
   you can find her out. [Aside. Ped. Dishonourable Girl, she has undone
   my Aim- Sir- you see my necessity in leaving you, and I hope you'll
   pardon it: my Sister, I know, will make her flight to you; and if she
   do, I shall expect she should be render'd back. Belv. I shall consult
   my Love and Honour, Sir. [Ex Ped. Flor. My dear Preserver let me
   embrace thee. [To Val. Will. What the Devil's all this? Blunt. Mystery
   by this Light. Val. Come, come, make haste and get your selves married
   quickly, for your Brother will return again. Belv. I am so surpriz'd
   with Fears and Joys, so amaz'd to find you here in safety, I can
   scarce persuade my Heart into a Faith of what I see- Will. Harkye,
   Colonel, is this that Mistress who has cost you so many Sighs, and me
   so many Quarrels with you? Belv. It is- Pray give him the Honour of
   your Hand. [To Flor. Will. Thus it must be receiv'd then. [Kneels and
   kisses her Hand. And with give your Pardon too. Flor. The Friend to
   Belvile may command me anything. Will. Death, wou'd I might, 'tis a
   surprizing Beauty. [Aside. Belv. Boy, run and fetch a Father
   instantly. [Ex. Boy. Fred. So, now do I stand like a Dog, and have not
   a Syllable to plead my own Cause with: by this Hand, Madam, I was
   never thorowly confounded before, nor shall I ever more dare look up
   with Confidence, till you are pleased to pardon me. Flor. Sir, I'll be
   reconcil'd to you on one Condition, that you'll follow the Example of
   your Friend, in marrying, a Maid that does not hate you, and whose
   Fortune (I believe) will not be unwelcome to you. Fred. Madam, had I
   no Inclinations that way, I shou'd obey your kind Commands. Belv. Who,
   Fred. marry; he has so few Inclinations for Womankind, that had he
   been possest of Paradise, he might have continu'd there to this Day,
   if no Crime but Love cou'd have disinherited him. Fred. Oh, I do not
   use to boast of my Intrigues. Belv. Boast! why thou do'st nothing but
   boast; and I dare swear, wer't thou as innocent from the Sin of the
   Grape, as thou art from the Apple, thou might'st yet claim that right
   in Eden which our first Parents lost by too much loving. Fred. I wish
   this Lady would think me so modest a Man. Val. She shou'd be sorry
   then, and not like you half so well, and I shou'd be loth to break my
   Word with you; which was, That if your Friend and mine are agreed, it
   shou'd be a Match between you and I. [She gives him her Hand. Fred.
   Bear witness, Colonel, 'tis a Bargain. [Kisses her Hand. Blunt. I have
   a Pardon to beg too; but adsheartlikins I am so out of Countenance,
   that I am a Dog if I can say any thing to purpose. [To Florinda. Flor.
   Sir, I heartily forgive you all. Blunt. That's nobly said, sweet Lady-
   Belvile, prithee present her her Ring again, for I find I have not
   Courage to approach her my self. [Gives him the Ring, he gives it to
   Florinda. Enter Boy. Boy. Sir, I have brought the Father that you sent
   for. Belv. 'Tis well, and now my dear Florinda, let's fly to compleat
   that mighty Joy we have so long wish'd and sigh'd for.- Come, Fred.
   you'll follow? Fred. Your Example, Sir, 'twas ever my Ambition in War,
   and must be so in Love. Will. And must not I see this juggling Knot
   ty'd? Belv. No, thou shalt do us better Service, and be our Guard,
   lest Don Pedro's sudden Return interrupt the Ceremony. Will. Content;
   I'll secure this Pass. [Ex. Bel. Flor. Fred. and Val. Enter Boy. Boy.
   Sir, there's a Lady without wou'd speak to you. [To Will. Will.
   Conduct her in, I dare not quit my Post. Boy. And, Sir, your Taylor
   waits you in your Chamber. Blunt. Some comfort yet, I shall not dance
   naked at the Wedding. [Ex. Blunt and Boy Enter again the Boy,
   conducting in Angelica in a masquing Habit and a Vizard, Will. runs to
   her. Will. This can be none but my pretty Gipsy- Oh, I see you can
   follow as well as fly- Come, confess thy self the most malicious Devil
   in Nature, you think you have done my Bus'ness with Angelica- Ang.
   Stand off, base Villain- [She draws a Pistol and holds to his Breast.
   Will. Hah, 'tis not she: who art thou? and what's thy Business? Ang.
   One thou hast injur'd, and who comes to kill thee for't. Will. What
   the Devil canst thou mean? Ang. By all my Hopes to kill thee- [Holds
   still the Pistol to his Breast, he going back, she fillwing still.
   Will. Prithee on what Acquaintance? for I know thee not. Ang. Behold
   this Face!- so lost to thy Remembrance! And then call all thy Sins
   about thy Soul, [Pulls off her Vizard. And let them die with thee.
   Will. Angelica! Ang. Yes, Traitor. Does not thy guilty Blood run
   shivering thro thy Veins? Hast thou no Horrour at this Sight, that
   tells thee, Thou hast not long to boast thy shameful Conquest? Will.
   Faith, no Child, my Blood keeps its old Ebbs and Flows still, and that
   usual Heat too, that cou'd oblige thee with a Kindness, had I but
   opportunity. Ang. Devil! dost wanton with my Pain- have at thy Heart.
   Will. Hold dear Virago! hold thy Hand a little, I am not now at
   leisure to be kill'd- hold and hear me- Death, I think she's in
   earnest. [Aside. Ang. Oh if I take not heed, My coward Heart will
   leave me to his Mercy. [Aside, turning from him. -What have you, Sir,
   to say?- but should I hear thee, Thoud'st talk away all that is brave
   about me: [Follows him with the Pistol to his Breast. And I have vow'd
   thy Death, by all that's sacred. Will. Why, then there's an end of a
   proper handsom Fellow, that might have liv'd to have done good Service
   yet:- That's all I can say to't. Ang. Yet- I wou'd give thee time for
   Penitence. [Pausingly. Will. Faith, I thank God, I have ever took care
   to lead a good, sober, hopeful Life, and am of a Religion that teaches
   me to believe, I shall depart in Peace. Ang. So will the Devil: tell
   me How many poor believing Fools thou hast undone; How many Hearts
   thou hast betray'd to ruin! -Yet these are little Mischiefs to the
   Ills Thou'st taught mine to commit: thou'st taught it Love. Will.
   Egad, 'twas shreudly hurt the while. Ang. -Love, that has robb'd it of
   its Unconcern, Of all that Pride that taught me how to value it, And
   in its room a mean submissive Passion was convey'd, That made me
   humbly bow, which I ne'er did To any thing but Heaven. -Thou, perjur'd
   Man, didst this, and with thy Oaths, Which on thy Knees thou didst
   devoutly make, Soften'd my yielding Heart- And then, I was a Slave-
   Yet still had been content to've worn my Chains, Worn 'em with Vanity
   and Joy for ever, Hadst thou not broke those Vows that put them on.
   -'Twas then I was undone. [All this while follows him with a Pistol to
   his Breast. Will. Broke my Vows! why, where hast thou lived? Amongst
   the Gods! For I never heard of mortal Man, That has not broke a
   thousand Vows. Ang. Oh, Impudence! Will. Angelica! that Beauty has
   been too long tempting, Not to have made a thousand Lovers languish,
   Who in the amorous Favour, no doubt have sworn Like me; did they all
   die in that Faith? still adoring? I do not think they did. Ang. No,
   faithless Man: had I repaid their Vows, as I did thine, I wou'd have
   kill'd the ungrateful that had abandon'd me. Will. This old General
   has quite spoil'd thee, nothing makes a Woman so vain, as being
   flatter'd; your old Lover ever supplies the Defects of Age, with
   intolerable Dotage, vast Charge, and that which you call Constancy;
   and attributing all this to your own Merits, you domineer, and throw
   your Favours in's Teeth, upbraiding him still with the Defects of Age,
   and cuckold him as often as he deceives your Expectations. But the
   gay, young, brisk Lover, that brings his equal Fires, and can give you
   Dart for Dart, he'll be as nice as you sometimes. Ang. All this
   thou'st made me know, for which I hate thee. Had I remain'd in
   innocent Security, I shou'd have thought all Men were born my Slaves;
   And worn my Pow'r like Lightning in my Eyes, To have destroy'd at
   Pleasure when offended. -But when Love held the Mirror, the
   undeceiving Glass Reflected all the Weakness of my Soul, and made me
   know, My richest Treasure being lost, my Honour, All the remaining
   Spoil cou'd not be worth The Conqueror's Care or Value. -Oh how I fell
   like a long worship'd Idol, Discovering all the Cheat! Wou'd not the
   Incense and rich Sacrifice, Which blind Devotion offer'd at my Altars,
   Have fall'n to thee? Why woud'st thou then destroy my fancy'd Power?
   Will. By Heaven thou art brave, and I admire the strangely. I wish I
   were that dull, that constant thing, Which thou woud'st have, and
   Nature never meant me: I must, like chearful Birds, sing in all
   Groves, And perch on every Bough, Billing the next kind She that flies
   to meet me; Yet after all cou'd build my Nest with thee, Thither
   repairing when I'd lov'd my round, And still reserve a tributary
   Flame. -To gain your Credit, I'll pay you back your Charity, And be
   oblig'd for nothing but for Love. [Offers her a Purse of Gold. Ang. Oh
   that thou wert in earnest! So mean a Thought of me, Wou'd turn my Rage
   to Scorn, and I shou'd pity thee, And give thee leave to live; Which
   for the publick Safety of our Sex, And my own private Injuries, I dare
   not do. Prepare- [Follows still, as before. -I will no more be tempted
   with Replies. Will. Sure- Ang. Another Word will damn thee! I've heard
   thee talk too long. [She follows him with a Pistol ready to shoot: he
   retires still amaz'd. Enter Don Antonio, his Arm in a Scarf, and lays
   hold on the Pistol. Ant. Hah! Angelica! Ang. Antonio! What Devil
   brought thee hither? Ant. Love and Curiosity, seeing your Coach at
   Door. Let me disarm you of this unbecoming Instrument of Death.-
   [Takes away the Pistol. Amongst the Number of your Slaves, was there
   not one worthy the Honour to have fought your Quarrel? -Who are you,
   Sir, that are so very wretched To merit Death from her? Will. One,
   Sir, that cou'd have made a better End of an amorous Quarrel without
   you, than with you. Ant. Sure 'tis some Rival- hah- the very Man took
   down her Picture yesterday- the very same that set on me last night-
   Blest opportunity- [Offers to shoot him. Ang. Hold, you're mistaken,
   Sir. Ant. By Heaven the very same! -Sir, what pretensions have you to
   this Lady? Will. Sir, I don't use to be examin'd, and am ill at all
   Disputes but this- [Draws, Anton. offers to shoot. Ang. Oh, hold! you
   see he's arm'd with certain Death: [To Will. -And you, Antonio, I
   command you hold, By all the Passion you've so lately vow'd me. Enter
   Don Pedro, sees Antonio, and stays. Ped. Hah, Antonio! and Angelica!
   [Aside. Ant. When I refuse Obedience to your Will, May you destroy me
   with your mortal Hate. By all that's Holy I adore you so, That even my
   Rival, who has Charms enough To make him fall a Victim to my Jealousy,
   Shall live, nay, and have leave to love on still. Ped. What's this I
   hear? [Aside. Ang. Ah thus, 'twas thus he talk'd, and I believ'd.
   [Pointing to Will. -Antonio, yesterday, I'd not have sold my Interest
   in his Heart For all the Sword has won and lost in Battle. -But now to
   show my utmost of Contempt, I give thee Life- which if thou would'st
   preserve, Live where my Eyes may never see thee more, Live to undo
   some one, whose Soul may prove So bravely constant to revenge my Love.
   [Goes out, Ant. follows, but Ped. pulls him back. Ped. Antonio- stay.
   Ant. Don Pedro- Ped. What Coward Fear was that prevented thee From
   meeting me this Morning on the Molo? Ant. Meet thee? Ped. Yes me; I
   was the Man that dar'd thee to't. Ant. Hast thou so often seen me
   fight in War, To find no better Cause to excuse my Absence? -I sent my
   Sword and one to do thee Right, Finding my self uncapable to use a
   Sword. Ped. But 'twas Florinda's Quarrel that we fought, And you to
   shew how little you esteem'd her, Sent me your Rival, giving him your
   Interest. -But I have found the Cause of this Affront, But when I meet
   you fit for the Dispute, -I'll tell you my Resentment. Ant. I shall be
   ready, Sir, e'er long to do you Reason. [Exit Ant. Ped. If I cou'd
   find Florinda, now whilst my Anger's high, I think I shou'd be kind,
   and give her to Belvile in Revenge. Will. Faith, Sir, I know not what
   you wou'd do, but I believe the Priest within has been so kind. Ped.
   How! my Sister married? Will. I hope by this time she is, and bedded
   too, or he has not my longings about him. Ped. Dares he do thus? Does
   he not fear my Pow'r? Will. Faith not at all. If you will go in, and
   thank him for the Favour he has done your Sister, so; if not, Sir, my
   Power's greater in this House than yours; I have a damn'd surly Crew
   here, that will keep you till the next Tide, and then clap you an
   board my Prize; my Ship lies but a League off the Molo, and we shall
   show your Donship a damn'd Tramontana Rover's Trick. Enter Belvile.
   Belv. This Rogue's in some new Mischief- hah, Pedro return'd! Ped.
   Colonel Belvile, I hear you have married my Sister. Belv. You have
   heard truth then, Sir. Ped. Have I so? then, Sir, I wish you joy.
   Belv. How! Ped. By this Embrace I do, and I glad on't. Belv. Are you
   in earnest? Ped. By our long Friendship and my Obligations to thee, I
   am. The sudden Change I'll give you Reasons for anon. Come lead me
   into my Sister, that she may know I now approve her Choice. [Exit Bel.
   with Ped. [Will. goes to follow them. Enter Hellena as before in Boy's
   Clothes, and pulls him back. Will. Ha! my Gipsy- Now a thousand
   Blessings on thee for this Kindness. Egad, Child, I was e'en in
   despair of ever seeing thee again; my Friends are all provided for
   within, each Man his kind Woman. Hell. Hah! I thought they had serv'd
   me some such Trick. Will. And I was e'en resolv'd to go aboard,
   condemn my self to my lone Cabin, and the Thoughts of thee. Hell. And
   cou'd you have left me behind? wou'd you have been so ill-natur'd?
   Will. Why, 'twou'd have broke my Heart, Child- but since we are met
   again, I defy foul Weather to part us. Hell. And wou'd you be a
   faithful Friend now, if a Maid shou'd trust you? Will. For a Friend I
   cannot promise, thou art of a Form so excellent, a Face and Humour too
   good for cold dull Friendship; I am parlously afraid of being in love,
   Child, and you have not forgot how severely you have us'd me. Hell.
   That's all one, such Usage you must still look for, to find out all
   your Haunts, to rail at you to all that love you, till I have made you
   love only me in your own Defence, because no body else will love.
   Will. But hast thou no better Quality to recommend thy self by? Hell.
   Faith none, Captain- Why, 'twill be the greater Charity to take me for
   thy Mistress, I am a lone Child, a kind of Orphan Lover; and why I
   shou'd die a Maid, and in a Captain's Hands too, I do not understand.
   Will. Egad, I was never claw'd away with Broad-Sides from any Female
   before, thou hast one Virtue I adore, good-Nature; I hate a coy demure
   Mistress, she's as troublesom as a Colt, I'll break none; no, give me
   a mad Mistress when mew'd, and in flying on[e] I dare trust upon the
   Wing, that whilst she's kind will come to the Lure. Hell. Nay, as kind
   as you will, good Captain, whilst it lasts, but let's lose no time.
   Will. My time's as precious to me, as thine can be; therefore, dear
   Creature, since we are so well agreed, let's retire to my Chamber, and
   if ever thou were treated with such savory Love- Come- My Bed's
   prepar'd for such a Guest, all clean and sweet as thy fair self; I
   love to steal a Dish and a Bottle with a Friend, and hate long Graces-
   Come, let's retire and fall to Hell. 'Tis but getting my Consent, and
   the Business is soon done; let but old Gaffer Hymen and his Priest say
   Amen to't, and I dare lay my Mother's Daughter by as proper a Fellow
   as your Father's Son, without fear or blushing. Will. Hold, hold, no
   Bugg Words, Child, Priest and Hymen: prithee add Hangman to 'em to
   make up the Consort- No, no, we'll have no Vows but Love, Child, nor
   Witness but the Lover; the kind Diety injoins naught but love and
   enjoy. Hymen and Priest wait still upon Portion, and Joynture; Love
   and Beauty have their own Ceremonies. Marriage is as certain a Bane to
   Love, as lending Money is to Friendship: I'll neither ask nor give a
   Vow, tho I could be content to turn Gipsy, and become a Left-hand
   Bridegroom, to have the Pleasure of working that great Miracle of
   making a Maid a Mother, if you durst venture; 'tis upse Gipsy that,
   and if I miss, I'll lose my Labour. Hell. And if you do not lose, what
   shall I get? A Cradle full of Noise and Mischief, with a Pack of
   Repentance at my Back? Can you teach me to weave Incle to pass my time
   with? 'Tis upse Gipsy that too. Will. I can teach thee to weave a true
   Love's Knot better. Hell. So can my Dog. Will. Well, I see we are both
   upon our Guard, and I see there's no way to conquer good Nature, but
   by yielding- here- give me thy Hand- one Kiss and I am thine- Hell.
   One Kiss! How like my Page he speaks; I am resolv'd you shall have
   none, for asking such a sneaking Sum- He that will be satisfied with
   one Kiss, will never die of that Longing; good Friend single-Kiss, is
   all your talking come to this? A Kiss, a Caudle! farewel, Captain
   single-Kiss. [Going out he stays her. Will. Nay, if we part so, let me
   die like a Bird upon a Bough, at the Sheriff's Charge. By Heaven, both
   the Indies shall not buy thee from me. I adore thy Humour and will
   marry thee, and we are so of one Humour, it must be a Bargain- give me
   thy Hand- [Kisses her hand. And now let the blind ones (Love and
   Fortune) do their worst. Hell. Why, God-a-mercy, Captain! Will. But
   harkye- The Bargain is now made; but is it not fit we should know each
   other's Names? That when we have Reason to curse one another
   hereafter, and People ask me who 'tis I give to the Devil, I may at
   least be able to tell what Family you came of. Hell. Good reason,
   Captain; and where I have cause, (as I doubt not but I shall have
   plentiful) that I may know at whom to throw my- Blessings- I beseech
   ye your Name. Will. I am call'd Robert the Constant. Hell. A very fine
   Name! pray was it your Faulkner or Butler that christen'd you? Do they
   not use to whistle when then call you? Will. I hope you have a better,
   that a Man may name without crossing himself, you are so merry with
   mine. Hell. I am call'd Hellena the Inconstant. Enter Pedro, Belvile,
   Florinda, Fred. Valeria. Ped. Hah! Hellena! Flor. Hellena! Hell. The
   very same- hah my Brother! now, Captain, shew your Love and Courage;
   stand to your Arms, and defend me bravely, or I am lost for ever. Ped.
   What's this I bear? false Girl, how came you hither, and what's your
   Business? Speak. [Goes roughly to her. Will. Hold off, Sir, you have
   leave to parly only. [Puts himself between. Hell. I had e'en as good
   tell it, as you guess it. Faith, Brother, my Business is the same with
   all living Creatures of my Age, to love, and be loved, and here's the
   Man. Ped. Perfidious Maid, hast thou deceiv'd me too, deceiv'd thy
   self and Heaven? Hell. 'Tis time enough to make my Peace with that: Be
   you but kind, let me alone with Heaven. Ped. Belvile, I did not expect
   this false Play from you; was't not enough you'd gain Florinda (which
   I pardon'd) but your leud Friends too must be inrich'd with the Spoils
   of a noble Family? Belv. Faith, Sir, I am as much surpriz'd at this as
   you can be: Yet, Sir, my Friends are Gentlemen, and ought to be
   esteem'd for their Misfortunes, since they have the Glory to suffer
   with the best of Men and Kings; 'tis true, he's a Rover of Fortune,
   yet a Prince aboard his little wooden World. Ped. What's this to the
   maintenance of a Woman or her Birth and Quality? Will. Faith, Sir, I
   can boast of nothing but a Sword which does me Right where-e'er I
   come, and has defended a worse Cause than a Woman's: and since I lov'd
   her before I either knew her Birth or Name, I must pursue my
   Resolution, and marry her. Ped. And is all your holy Intent of
   becoming a Nun debauch'd into a Desire of Man? Hell. Why- I have
   consider'd the matter, Brother, and find the Three hundred thousand
   Crowns my Uncle left me (and you cannot keep from me) will be better
   laid out in Love than in Religion, and turn to as good an Account- let
   most Voices carry it, for Heaven or the Captain? All cry, a Captain, a
   Captain. Hell. Look ye, Sir, 'tis a clear Case. Ped. Oh I am mad- if I
   refuse, my Life's in Danger [Aside. -Come- There's one motive induces
   me- take her- I shall now be free from the fear of her Honour; guard
   it you now, if you can, I have been a Slave to't long enough. [Gives
   her to him. Will. Faith, Sir, I am of a Nation, that are of opinion a
   Woman's Honour is not worth guarding when she has a mind to part with
   it. Hell. Well said, Captain. Ped. This was your Plot, Mistress, but I
   hope you have married one that will revenge my Quarrel to you- [To
   Valeria. Val. There's no altering Destiny, Sir. Ped. Sooner than a
   Woman's Will, therefore I forgive you all- and wish you may get my
   Father's Pardon as easily; which I fear. Enter Blunt drest in a
   Spanish Habit, looking very ridiculously; his Man adjusting his Band.
   Man. 'Tis very well, Sir. Blunt. Well, Sir, 'dsheartlikins I tell you
   'tis damnable ill, Sir- a Spanish Habit, good Lord! cou'd the Devil
   and my Taylor devise no other Punishment for me, but the Mode of a
   Nation I abominate? Belv. What's the matter, Ned? Blunt. Pray view me
   round, and judge- [Turns round. Belv. I must confess thou art a kind
   of an odd Figure. Blunt. In a Spanish Habit with a Vengeance! I had
   rather be in the inquisition for Judaism, than in this Doublet and
   Breeches; a Pillory were an easy Collar to this, three Handfuls high;
   and these Shoes too are worse than the Stocks, with the Sole an Inch
   shorter than my Foot: In fine, Gentlemen, methinks I look altogether
   like a Bag of Bays stuff'd full of Fools Flesh. Belv. Methinks 'tis
   well, and makes thee look en Cavalier: Come, Sir, settle your Face,
   and salute our Friends, Lady- Blunt. Hah! Say'st thou so, my little
   Rover? [To Hell. Lady- (if you be one) give me leave to kiss your
   Hand, and tell you, adsheartlikins, for all I look so, I am your
   humble Servant- A Pox of my Spanish Habit. Will. Hark- what's this?
   [Musick is heard to Play. Enter Boy. Boy. Sir, as the Custom is, the
   gay People in Masquerade, who make every Man's House their own, are
   coming up. Enter several Men and Women in masquing Habits, with
   Musick, they put themselves in order and dance. Blunt. Adsheartlikins,
   wou'd 'twere lawful to pull off their false Faces, that I might see if
   my Doxy were not amongst 'em. Belv. Ladies and Gentlemen, since you
   are come so a propos, you must take a small Collation with us. [To the
   Masquers. Will. Whilst we'll to the Good Man within, who stays to give
   us a Cast of his Office. [To Hell. -Have you no trembling at the near
   approach? Hell. No more than you have in an Engagement or a Tempest.
   Will. Egad, thou'rt a brave Girl, and I admire thy Love and Courage.
   Lead on, no other Dangers they can dread, Who venture in the Storms
   o'th' Marriage-Bed. [Exeunt. EPILOGUE. THE banisht Cavaliers! a Roving
   Blade! A popish Carnival! a Masquerade! The Devil's in't if this will
   please the Nation, In these our blessed Times of Reformation, When
   Conventicling is so much in Fashion. And yet- That mutinous Tribe less
   Factions do beget, Than your continual differing in Wit; Your
   Judgment's (as your Passions) a Disease: Nor Muse nor Miss your
   Appetite can please; You're grown as nice as queasy Consciences, Whose
   each Convulsion, when the Spirit moves, Damns every thing that Maggot
   disapproves With canting Rule you wou'd the Stage refine, And to dull
   Method all our Sense confine. With th' Insolence of Common-wealths you
   rule, Where each gay Fop, and politick brave Fool On Monarch Wit
   impose without controul. As for the last who seldom sees a Play,
   Unless it be the old Black-Fryers way, Shaking his empty Noddle o'er
   Bamboo, He crys- Good Faith, these Plays will never do. -Ah, Sir, in
   my young days, what lofty Wit, What high-strain'd Scenes of Fighting
   there were writ: These are slight airy Toys. But tell me, pray, What
   has the House of Commons done to day? Then shews his Politicks, to let
   you see Of State Affairs he'll judge as notably, As he can do of Wit
   and Poetry. The younger Sparks, who hither do resort, Cry- Pox o' your
   gentle things, give us more Sport; -Damn me, I'm sure 'twill never
   please the Court. Such Fops are never pleas'd, unless the Play Be
   stuff'd with Fools, as brisk and dull as they: Such might the
   Half-Crown spare, and in a Glass At home behold a more accomplisht
   Ass, Where they may set their Cravats, Wigs and Faces, And practice
   all their Buffoonry Grimaces; See how this- Huff becomes- this Dammy-
   flare- Which they at home may act, because they dare, But- must with
   prudent Caution do elsewhere. Oh that our Nokes, or Tony Lee could
   show A Fop but half so much to th' Life as you. POST-SCRIPT. THIS Play
   had been sooner in Print, but for a Report about the Town (made by
   some either very Malitious or very Ignorant) that 'twas Thomaso
   alter'd; which made the Book-sellers fear some trouble from the
   Proprietor of that Admirable Play, which indeed has Wit enough to
   stock a Poet, and is not to be piec't or mended by any but the
   Excellent Author himself; That I have stol'n some hints from it may be
   a proof, that I valu'd it more than to pretend to alter it: had I had
   the Dexterity of some Poets who are not more expert in stealing than
   in the Art of Concealing, and who even that way out-do the
   Spartan-Boyes I might have appropriated all to myself, but I, vainly
   proud of my Judgment hang out the Sign of ANGELICA (the only Stol'n
   Object) to give Notice where a great part of the Wit dwelt; though if
   the Play of the Novella were as well worth remembring as Thomaso, they
   might (bating the Name) have as well said, I took it from thence: I
   will only say the Plot and Bus'ness (not to boast on't) is my own: as
   for the Words and Characters, I leave the Reader to judge and compare
   'em with Thomaso, to whom I recommend the great Entertainment of
   reading it, tho' had this succeeded ill, I shou'd have had no need of
   imploring that Justice from the Critics, who are naturally so kind to
   any that pretend to usurp their Dominion, they wou'd doubtless have
   given me the whole Honour on't. Therefore I will only say in English
   what the famous Virgil does in Latin: I make Verses and others have
   the Fame. THE ROVER. PART II. PROLOGUE, Spoken by Mr. Smith. IN vain
   we labour to reform the Stage, Poets have caught too the Disease o'
   th' Age, That Pest, of not being quiet when they're well, That
   restless Fever, in the Brethren, Zeal; In publick Spirits call'd, Good
   o'th' Commonweal. Some for this Faction cry, others for that, The
   pious Mobile for they know not what: So tho by different ways the
   Fever seize, In all 'tis one and the same mad Disease. Our Author tool
   as all new Zealots do, Full of Conceit and Contradiction too, 'Cause
   the first Project took, is now so vain, T' attempt to play the old
   Game o'er again: The Scene is only chang'd; for who wou'd lay A Plot,
   so hopeful, just the same dull way? Poets, like Statesmen, with a
   little change, Pass off old Politicks for new and strange; Tho the few
   Men of Sense decry't aloud, The Cheat will pass with the unthinking
   Croud: The Rabble 'tis we court, those powerful things, Whose Voices
   can impose even Laws on Kings. A Pox of Sense and Reason, or dull
   Rules, Give us an Audience that declares for Fools; Our Play will
   stand fair: we've Monsters too, Which far exceed your City Pope for
   Show. Almighty Rabble, 'tis to you this Day Our humble Author
   dedicates the Play, From those who in our lofty Tire sit, Down to the
   dull Stage-Cullies of the Pit, Who have much Money, and but little
   Wit: Whose useful Purses, and whose empty Skulls To private Int'rest
   make ye Publick Tools; To work on Projects which the wiser frame, And
   of fine Men of Business get the Name. You who have left caballing here
   of late, Imploy'd in matters of a mightier weight; To you we make our
   humble Application, You'd spare some time from your dear new Vocation,
   Of drinking deep, then settling the Nation, To countenance us, whom
   Commonwealths of old Did the most politick Diversion hold. Plays were
   so useful thought to Government, That Laws were made for their
   Establishment; Howe'er in Schools differing Opinions jar, Yet all
   agree i' th' crouded Theatre, Which none forsook in any Change or War.
   That, like their Gods, unviolated stood, Equally needful to the
   publick Good. Throw then, Great Sirs, some vacant hours away, And your
   Petitioners shall humbly pray, &c. DRAMATIS PERSONAE. MEN. Willmore,
   The Rover, in love with La Nuche, Mr. Smith. Beaumond, the English
   Ambassador's Nephew, in love with La Nuche, contracted to Ariadne, Mr.
   Williams. Ned Blunt, an English Country Gentleman, Mr. Underhill.
   Nicholas Fetherfool, an English Squire, his Friend, Mr. Nokes. Shift,
   an English Lieutenant,: Friends and Officers to Mr. Wiltshire. Hunt,
   an Ensign: Willmore, Mr. Richards. Harlequin, Willmore's Man Abevile,
   Page to Beaumond Don Carlo, an old Grandee, in love with La Nuche, Mr.
   Norris. Sancho, Bravo to La Nuche. An old Jew, Guardian to the two
   Monsters, Mr. Freeman. Porter at the English Ambassador's. Rag, Boy to
   Willmore. Scaramouche. WOMEN. Ariadne, the English Ambassador's
   Daughter-in-law, in love with Willmore, Mrs. Corror. Lucia, her
   Kinswoman, a Girl, Mrs. Norris. La Nuche, a Spanish Curtezan, in love
   with the Rover, Mrs. Barry. Petronella Elenora, her Baud, Mrs. Norris.
   Aurelia, her Woman, Mrs. Crofts. A Woman Giant. A Dwarf, her Sister.
   Footmen, Servants, Musicians, Operators and Spectators. SCENE, Madrid.
   ACT I Scene I. A Street. Enter Willmore, Blunt, Fetherfool, and Hunt,
   two more in Campain Dresses, Rag the Captain's Boy. Will. Stay, this
   is the English Ambassador's. I'll inquire if Beaumond be return'd from
   Paris. Feth. Prithee, dear Captain, no more Delays, unless thou
   thinkest he will invite us to Dinner; for this fine thin sharp Air of
   Madrid has a most notable Faculty of provoking an Appetite: Prithee
   let's to the Ordinary. Will. I will not stay- [Knocks, enter a Porter.
   -Friend, is the Ambassador's Nephew, Mr. Beaumond, return'd to Madrid
   yet? If he be, I would speak with him. Port. I'll let him know so
   much. [Goes in, shuts the door. Blunt. Why, how now, what's the Door
   shut upon us? Feth. And reason, Ned, 'tis Dinner-time in the
   Ambassador's Kitchen, and should they let the savoury Steam out, what
   a world of Castilians would there be at the Door feeding upon't.- Oh
   there's no living in Spain when the Pot's uncover'd. Blunt. Nay, 'tis
   a Nation of the finest clean Teeth- Feth. Teeth! Gad an they use their
   Swords no oftner, a Scabbard will last an Age. Enter Shift from the
   House. Will. Honest Lieutenant- Shift. My noble Captain- Welcome to
   Madrid. What Mr. Blunt, and my honoured Friend Nicholas Fetherfool
   Esq. Feth. Thy Hand, honest Shift- [They embrace him. Will. And how,
   Lieutenant, how stand Affairs in this unsanctify'd Town?- How does
   Love's great Artillery, the fair La Nuche, from whose bright Eyes the
   little wanton God throws Darts to wound Mankind? Shift. Faith, she
   carries all before her still; undoes her Fellow -traders in Love's
   Art: and amongst the Number, old Carlo de Minalta Segosa pays high for
   two Nights in a Week. Will. Hah- Carlo! Death, what a greeting's here!
   Carlo, the happy Man! a Dog! a Rascal, gain the bright La Nuche! Oh
   Fortune! Cursed blind mistaken Fortune! eternal Friend to Fools!
   Fortune! that takes the noble Rate from Man, to place it on her Idol
   Interest. Shift. Why Faith, Captain, I should think her Heart might
   stand as fair for you as any, could you be less satirical- but by this
   Light, Captain, you return her Raillery a little too roughly. Will.
   Her Raillery! By this Hand I had rather be handsomly abus'd than dully
   flatter'd; but when she touches on my Poverty, my honourable Poverty,
   she presses me too sensibly- for nothing is so nice as Poverty- But
   damn her, I'll think of her no more: for she's a Devil, tho her Form
   be Angel. Is Beaumond come from Paris yet? Shift. He is, I came with
   him; he's impatient of your Return: I'll let him know you're here.
   [Exit. Shift. Feth. Why, what a Pox ails the Captain o'th' sudden? He
   looks as sullenly as a routed General, or a Lover after hard Service.
   Blunt. Oh- something the Lieutenant has told him about a Wench; and
   when Cupid's in his Breeches, the Devil's ever in's Head- how now-
   What a pox is the matter with you, you look so scurvily now?- What, is
   the Gentlewoman otherwise provided? has she cashier'd ye for want of
   Pay? or what other dire Mischance?- hah- Will. Do not trouble me-
   Blunt. Adsheartlikins, but I will, and beat thee too, but I'll know
   the Cause. I heard Shift tell thee something about La Nuche, a Damsel
   I have often heard thee Fool enough to sigh for. Will. Confound the
   mercenary Jilt! Blunt. Nay, adsheartlikins they are all so; tho I
   thought you had been Whore-proof; 'tis enough for us Fools, Country
   Gentlemen, Esquires, and Cullies, to miscarry in their amorous
   Adventures, you Men of Wit weather all Storms you. Will. Oh, Sir,
   you're become a new Man, wise and wary, and can no more be cozen'd.
   Blunt. Not by Woman-kind; and for Man I think my Sword will secure me.
   Pox, I thought a two Months absence and a Siege would have put such
   Trifles out of thy Head: You do not use to be such a Miracle of
   Constancy. Will. That Absence makes me think of her so much; and all
   the Passions thou find'st about me are to the Sex alone. Give me a
   Woman, Ned, a fine young amorous Wanton, who would allay this Fire
   that makes me rave thus, and thou shouldst find me no longer
   particular, but cold as Winter-Nights to this La Nuche: Yet since I
   lost my little charming Gipsey, nothing has gone so near my Heart as
   this. Blunt. Ay, there was a Girl, the only she thing that could
   reconcile me to the Petticoats again after my Naples Adventure, when
   the Quean rob'd and stript me. Will. Oh name not Hellena! She was a
   Saint to be ador'd on Holy-days. Enter Beaumond. Beau. Willmore! my
   careless wild inconstant- how is't, my lucky Rover? [embracing. Will.
   My Life! my Soul! how glad am I to find thee in my Arms again- and
   well- When left you Paris? Paris, that City of Pottage and Crab-Wine
   swarming with Lacquies and Philies, whose Government is carried on by
   most Hands, not most Voices- And prithee how does Belvile and his
   Lady? Beau. I left 'em both in Health at St. Germains. Will. Faith, I
   have wisht my self with ye at the old Temple of Bacchus at St. Clou,
   to sacrifice a Bottle and a Damsel to his Deity. Beau. My constant
   Place of Worship whilst there, tho for want of new Saints my Zeal grew
   something cold, which I was ever fain to supply with a Bottle, the old
   Remedy when Phyllis is sullen and absent. Will. Now thou talk'st of
   Phillis, prithee, dear Harry, what Women hast in store? Beau. I'll
   tell thee; but first inform me whom these two Sparks are. Will. Egad,
   and so they are, Child: Salute 'em- They are my Friends- True Blades,
   Hal. highly guilty of the royal Crime, poor and brave, loyal
   Fugitives. Beau. I love and honour 'em, Sir, as such- [Bowing to
   Blunt. Blunt. Sir, there's neither Love nor Honour lost. Feth. Sir, I
   scorn to be behind-hand in Civilities. Beau. At first sight I find I
   am much yours, Sir. [To Feth. Feth. Sir, I love and honour any Man
   that's a Friend to Captain Willmore- and therefore I am yours- Enter
   Shift. -Well, honest Lieutenant, how does thy Body?- When shall Ned,
   and thou and I, crack a Bisket o'er a Glass of Wine, have a Slice of
   Treason and settle the Nation, hah? Shift. You know, Squire, I am
   devotedly yours. [They talk aside. Beau. Prithee who are these? Will.
   Why, the first you saluted is the same Ned Blunt you have often heard
   Belvile and I speak of: the other is a Rarity of another Nature, one
   Squire Fetherfool of Croydon, a tame Justice of Peace, who liv'd as
   innocently as Ale and Food could keep him, till for a mistaken
   Kindness to one of the Royal Party, he lost his Commission, and got
   the Reputation of a Sufferer: He's rich, but covetous as an Alderman.
   Beau. What a Pox do'st keep 'em Company for, who have neither Wit
   enough to divert thee, nor Good-nature enough to serve thee? Will.
   Faith, Harry, 'tis true, and if there were no more Charity than Profit
   in't, a Man would sooner keep a Cough o'th' Lungs than be troubled
   with 'em: but the Rascals have a blind side as all conceited Coxcombs
   have, which when I've nothing else to do, I shall expose to advance
   our Mirth; the Rogues must be cozen'd, because they're so positive
   they never can be so: but I am now for softer Joys, for Woman, for
   Woman in abundance- dear Hal. inform me where I may safely unlade my
   Heart. Beau. The same Man still, wild and wanton! Will. And would not
   change to be the Catholick King. Beau. I perceive Marriage has not
   tam'd you, nor a Wife who had all the Charms of her Sex. Will. Ay- she
   was too good for Mortals. [With a sham Sadness. Belv. I think thou
   hadst her but a Month, prithee how dy'd she? Will. Faith, e'en with a
   fit of Kindness, poor Soul- she would to Sea with me, and in a Storm-
   far from Land, she gave up the Ghost- 'twas a Loss, but I must bear it
   with a christian Fortitude. Beau. Short Happinesses vanish like to
   Dreams. Will. Ay faith, and nothing remains with me but the sad
   Remembrance- not so much as the least Part of her hundred thousand
   Crowns; Brussels that inchanted Court has eas'd me of that Grief,
   where our Heroes act Tantalus better than ever Ovid describ'd him,
   condemn'd daily to see an Apparition of Meat, Food in Vision only.
   Faith, I had Bowels, was good-natur'd, and lent upon the publick Faith
   as far as 'twill go- But come, let's leave this mortifying Discourse,
   and tell me how the price of Pleasure goes. Beau. At the old Rates
   still; he that gives most is happiest, some few there are for Love!
   Will. Ah, one of the last, dear Beaumond; and if a Heart or Sword can
   purchase her, I'll bid as fair as the best. Damn it, I hate a Whore
   that asks me Mony. Beau. Yet I have known thee venture all thy Stock
   for a new Woman. Will. Ay, such a Fool I was in my dull Days of
   Constancy, but I am now for Change, (and should I pay as often,
   'twould undo me)- for Change, my Dear, of Place, Clothes, Wine, and
   Women. Variety is the Soul of Pleasure, a Good unknown; and we want
   Faith to find it. Beau. Thou wouldst renounce that fond Opinion,
   Willmore, didst thou see a Beauty here in Town, whose Charms have
   Power to fix inconstant Nature or Fortune were she tottering on her
   Wheel. Will. Her Name, my Dear, her Name? Beau. I would not breathe it
   even in my Complaints, lest amorous Winds should bear it o'er the
   World, and make Mankind her Slaves; But that it is a Name too cheaply
   known, And she that owns it may be as cheaply purchas'd. Will. Hah!
   cheaply purchas'd too! I languish for her. Beau. Ay, there's the Devil
   on't, she is- a Whore. Will. Ah, what a charming Sound that mighty
   Word bears! Beau. Damn her, she'll be thine or any body's. Will. I die
   for her- Beau. Then for her Qualities- Will. No more-ye Gods, I ask no
   more, Be she but fair and much a Whore- Come let's to her. Beau.
   Perhaps to morrow you may see this Woman. Will. Death, 'tis an Age.
   Feth. Oh, Captain, the strangest News, Captain. Will. Prithee what?
   Feth. Why, Lieutenant Shift here tells us of two Monsters arriv'd from
   Mexico, Jews of vast Fortunes, with an old Jew Uncle their Guardian;
   they are worth a hundred thousand Pounds a piece- Marcy upon's, why,
   'tis a Sum able to purchase all Flanders again from his most christian
   Majesty. Will. Ha, ha, ha, Monsters! Beau. He tells you Truth,
   Willmore. Blunt. But hark ye, Lieutenant, are you sure they are not
   married? Beau. Who the Devil would venture on such formidable Ladies?
   Feth. How, venture on 'em! by the Lord Harry, and that would I, tho
   I'm a Justice of the Peace, and they be Jews, (which to a Christian is
   a thousand Reasons.) Blunt. Is the Devil in you to declare our
   Designs? [Aside. Feth. Mum, as close as a Jesuit. Beau. I admire your
   Courage, Sir, but one of them is so little, and so deform'd, 'tis
   thought she is not capable of Marriage; and the other is so huge an
   overgrown Giant, no Man dares venture on her. Will. Prithee let's go
   see 'em; what do they pay for going in? Feth. Pay- I'd have you to
   know they are Monsters of Quality. Shift. And not to be seen but by
   particular Favour of their Guardian, whom I am got acquainted with,
   from the Friendship I have with the Merchant where they lay. The
   Giant, Sir, is in love with me, the Dwarf with Ensign Hunt, and as we
   manage Matters we may prove lucky. Beau. And didst thou see the Show?
   the Elephant and the Mouse. Shift. Yes, and pleased them wondrously
   with News I brought 'em of a famous Mountebank who is coming to
   Madrid, here are his Bills- who amongst other his marvellous Cures,
   pretends to restore Mistakes in Nature, to new-mould a Face and Body
   tho never so misshapen, to exact Proportion and Beauty. This News has
   made me gracious to the Ladies, and I am to bring 'em word of the
   Arrival of this famous Empirick, and to negotiate the Business of
   their Reformation. Will. And do they think to be restor'd to moderate
   sizes? Shift. Much pleas'd with the Hope, and are resolv'd to try at
   any Rate. Feth. Mum, Lieutenant- not too much of their Transformation;
   we shall have the Captain put in for a Share, and the Devil would not
   have him his Rival: Ned and I are resolv'd to venture a Cast for 'em
   as they are- Hah, Ned. [Will. and Beau. read the Bill. Blunt. Yes, if
   there were any Hopes of your keeping a Secret. Feth. Nay, nay, Ned,
   the World knows I am a plaguy Fellow at your Secrets; that, and my
   Share of the Charge shall be my Part, for Shift says the Guardian must
   be brib'd for Consent: Now the other Moiety of the Mony and the
   Speeches shall be thy part, for thou hast a pretty Knack that way. Now
   Shift shall bring Matters neatly about, and we'll pay him by the Day,
   or in gross, when we married- hah, Shift. Shift. Sir, I shall be
   reasonable. Will. I am sure Fetherfool and Blunt have some wise Design
   upon these two Monsters- it must be so- and this Bill has put an
   extravagant Thought into my Head- hark ye, Shift. [Whispers to him.
   Blunt. The Devil's in't if this will not redeem my Reputation with the
   Captain, and give him to understand that all the Wit does not lie in
   the Family of the Willmores, but that this Noddle of mine can be
   fruitful too upon Occasion. Feth. Ay, and Lord, how we'll domineer,
   Ned, hah- over Willmore and the rest of the Renegado Officers, when we
   have married these Lady Monsters, hah, Ned. Blunt. -Then to return
   back to Essex worth a Million. Feth. And I to Croyden- Blunt. -Lolling
   in Coach and Six- Feth. -Be dub'd Right Worshipful- Blunt. And stand
   for Knight of the Shire. Will. Enough- I must have my Share of this
   Jest, and for divers and sundry Reasons thereunto belonging, must be
   this very Mountebank expected. Shift. Faith, Sir, and that were no
   hard matter, for a day or two the Town will believe it, the same they
   look for: and the Bank, Operators and Musick are all ready. Will. Well
   enough, add but a Harlequin and Scaramouch, and I shall mount in
   querpo. Shift. Take no care for that, Sir, your Man, and Ensign Hunt,
   are excellent at those two; I saw 'em act 'em the other day to a
   Wonder, they'll be glad of the Employment, my self will be an
   Operator. Will. No more, get 'em ready, and give it out, the Man of
   Art's arriv'd: Be diligent and secret, for these two politick Asses
   must be cozen'd. Shift. I will about the Business instantly. [Ex.
   Shift. Beau. This Fellow will do Feats if he keeps his Word. Will.
   I'll give you mine he shall- But, dear Beaumond, where shall we meet
   anon? Beau. I thank ye for that- 'Gad, ye shall dine with me. Feth. A
   good Motion- Will. I beg your Pardon now, dear Beaumond- I having
   lately nothing else to do, took a Command of Horse from the General at
   the last Siege, from which I am just arriv'd, and my Baggage is
   behind, which I must take order for. Feth. Pox on't now there's a
   Dinner lost, 'twas ever an unlucky Rascal. Beau. To tempt thee more,
   thou shalt see my Wife that is to be. Will. Pox on't, I am the leudest
   Company in Christendom with your honest Women- but- What, art thou to
   be noos'd then? Beau. 'Tis so design'd by my Uncle, if an old Grandee
   my Rival prevent it not; the Wench is very pretty, young, and rich,
   and lives in the same House with me, for 'tis my Aunt's Daughter.
   Will. Much good may it dye, Harry, I pity you, but 'tis common
   Grievance of you happy Men of Fortune. [Goes towards the House-door
   with Beau. Enter La Nuche, Aurelia, Petronella, Sancho, Women veil'd a
   little. Aur. Heavens, Madam, is not that the English Captain? [Looking
   on Will. La Nu. 'Tis, and with him Don Henrick the Ambassador's
   Nephew- how my Heart pants and heaves at sight of him! some Fire of
   the old Flames remaining, which I must strive to extinguish. For I'll
   not bate a Ducat of this Price I've set upon my self, for all the
   Pleasures Youth or Love can bring me- for see Aurelia- the sad Memento
   of a dacay'd poor old forsaken Whore in Petronella; consider her, and
   then commend my Prudence. Will. Hah, Women!- Feth. Egad, and fine ones
   too. I'll tell you that. Will. No matter, Kindness is better Sauce to
   Woman than Beauty! By this Hand she looks at me- Why dost hold me?
   [Feth. holds him. Feth. Why, what a Devil, art mad? Will. Raging, as
   vigorous Youth kept long from Beauty; wild for the charming Sex, eager
   for Woman, I long to give a Loose to Love and Pleasure. Blunt. These
   are not Women, Sir, for you to ruffle- Will. Have a care of your
   Persons of Quality, Ned. [Goes to La Nuche. -Those lovely Eyes were
   never made to throw their Darts in vain. La Nu. The Conquest would be
   hardly worth the Pain. Will. Hah, La Nuche! with what a proud Disdain
   she flung away- stay, I will not part so with you- [Holds her. Enter
   Ariadne and Lucia with Footmen. Aria. Who are these before us, Lucia?
   Luc. I know not, Madam; but if you make not haste home, you'll be
   troubled with Carlo your importunate Lover, who is just behind us.
   Aria. Hang me, a lovely Man! what Lady's that? stay. Pet. What
   Insolence is this! This Villain will spoil all- Feth. Why, Captain,
   are you quite distracted?- dost know where thou art? Prithee be civil-
   Will. Go, proud and cruel! [Turns her from him. Enter Carlo, and two
   or three Spanish Servants following: Petronella goes to him. Car. Hah,
   affronted by a drunken Islander, a saucy Tramontane!- Draw- [To his
   Servants whilst he takes La Nuche. whilst I lead her off- fear not,
   Lady, you have the Honour of my Sword to guard ye. Will. Hah, Carlo-
   ye lye- it cannot guard the boasting Fool that wears it- be gone- and
   look not back upon this Woman. [Snatches her from him] One single
   Glance destroys thee- [They draw and fight; Carlo getting hindmost of
   his Spaniards, the English beat 'em off. The Ladies run away, all but
   Ariadne and Lucia. Luc. Heav'ns, Madam, why do ye stay? Aria. To pray
   for that dear Stranger- And see, my Prayers are heard, and he's
   return'd in safety- this Door shall shelter me to o'er-hear the
   Quarrel. [Steps aside. Enter Will. Blunt, Feth. looking big, and
   putting up his Sword. Feth. The noble Captain be affronted by a
   starch'd Ruff and Beard, a Coward in querpo, a walking Bunch of
   Garlick, a pickl'd Pilchard! abuse the noble Captain, and bear it off
   in State, like a Christmas Sweet-heart; these things must not be
   whilst Nicholas Fetherfool wears a Sword. Blunt. Pox o' these Women, I
   thought no good would come on't: besides, where's the Jest in
   affronting honest Women, if there be such a thing in the Nation? Feth.
   Hang't, 'twas the Devil and all- Will. Ha, ha, ha! Why, good honest
   homespun Country Gentlemen, who do you think those were? Feth. Were!
   why, Ladies of Quality going to their Devotion; who should they be?
   Blunt. Why, faith, and so I thought too. Will. Why, that very one
   Woman I spoke to is ten Whores in Surrey. Feth. Prithee speak softly,
   Man: 'Slife, we shall be poniarde for keeping thee company. Will. Wise
   Mr. Justice, give me your Warrant, and if I do not prove 'em Whores,
   whip me. Feth. Prithee hold thy scandalous blasphemous Tongue, as if I
   did not know Whores from Persons of Quality. Will. Will you believe me
   when you lie with her? for thou'rt a rich Ass, and may'st do it. Feth.
   Whores- ha, ha- Will. 'Tis strange Logick now, because your Band is
   better that mine, I must not know a Whore better than you. Blunt. If
   this be a Whore, as thou say'st, I understand nothing- by this Light
   such a Wench would pass for a Person of Quality in London. Feth. Few
   Ladies have I seen at a Sheriff's Feast have better Faces, or worn so
   good Clothes; and by the Lord Harry, if these be of the gentle Craft,
   I'd not give a Real for an honest Women for my use. Will. Come follow
   me into the Church, for thither I am sure they're gone: And I will let
   you see what a wretched thing you had been had you lived seven Years
   longer in Surrey, stew'd in Ale and Beef-broth. Feth. O dear Willmore,
   name not those savory things, there's no jesting with my Stomach; it
   sleeps now, but if it wakes, wo be to your Shares at the Ordinary.
   Blunt. I'll say that for Fetherfool, if his Heart were but half so
   good as his Stomach, he were a brave Fellow. [Aside, Exeunt. Aria. I
   am resolv'd to follow- and learn, if possible, who 'tis has made this
   sudden Conquest o'er me. [All go off. [Scene draws, and discovers a
   Church, a great many People at Devotion, soft Musick playing. Enter La
   Nuche, Aurelia, Petron. and Sancho: To them Willmore, Feth. Blunt;
   then Ariadne, Lucia; Feth. bows to La Nuche and Petronella. Feth. Now
   as I hope to be sav'd, Blunt, she's a most melodious Lady. Would I
   were worthy to purchase a Sin or so with her. Would not such a Beauty
   reconcile thy Quarrel to the Sex? Blunt. No, were she an Angel in that
   Shape. Feth. Why, what a pox couldst not lie with her if she'd let
   thee? By the Lord Harry, as errant a Dog as I am, I'd fain see any of
   Cupid's Cook-maids put me out of countenance with such a Shoulder of
   Mutton. Aria. See how he gazes on her- Lucia, go nearer, and o'er-hear
   'em. [Lucia listens. Will. Death, how the charming Hypocrite looks to
   day, with such a soft Devotion in her Eyes, as if even now she were
   praising Heav'n for all the Advantages it has blest her with. Blunt.
   Look how Willmore eyes her, the Rogue's smitten heart deep- Whores-
   Feth. Only a Trick to keep her to himself- he thought the Name of a
   Spanish Harlot would fight us from attempting- I must divert him- how
   is't, Captain- Prithee mind this Musick- Is it not most Seraphical?
   Will. Pox, let the Fidlers mind and tune their Pipes, I've higher
   Pleasures now. Feth. Oh, have ye so; what, with Whores, Captain?- 'Tis
   a most delicious Gentlewoman. [Aside. Pet. Pray, Madam, mind that
   Cavalier, who takes such pains to recommend himself to you. La Nu.
   Yes, for a fine conceited Fool- Pet. Catso, a Fool, what else? La Nu.
   Right, they are our noblest Chapmen; a Fool, and a rich Fool, and an
   English rich Fool- Feth. 'Sbud, she eyes me, Ned, I'll set my self in
   order, it may take- hah- [Sets himself. Pet. Let me alone to manage
   him, I'll to him- La Nu. Or to the Devil, so I had one Minute's time
   to speak to Willmore. Pet. And accosting him thus- tell him- La Nu.
   [in a hasty Tone.]- I am desperately in love with him, and am
   Daughter, Wife, or Mistress to some Grandee- bemoan the Condition of
   Women of Quality in Spain, who by too much Constraint are oblig'd to
   speak first- but were we blest like other Nations where Men and Women
   meet- [Speaking so fast, she offering to put in her word, is still
   prevented by t'other's running on. Pet. What Herds of Cuckolds would
   Spain breed- 'Slife, I could find in my Heart to forswear your
   Service: Have I taught ye your Trade, to become my Instructor, how to
   cozen a dull phlegmatick greasy-brain'd Englishman?- go and expect
   your Wishes. Will. So, she has sent her Matron to our Coxcomb; she saw
   he was a Cully fit for Game- who would not be a Rascal to be rich, a
   Dog, an Ass, a beaten, harden'd Coward- by Heaven, I will possess this
   gay Insensible, to make me hate her- most extremely curse her- See if
   she be not fallen to Pray'r again, from thence to Flattery, Jilting
   and Purse-taking, to make the Proverb good- My fair false Sybil, what
   Inspirations are you waiting for from Heaven, new Arts to cheat
   Mankind!- Tell me, with what Face canst thou be devout, or ask any
   thing from thence, who hast made so leud a use of what it has already
   lavish'd on thee? La Nu. Oh my careless Rover! I perceive all your hot
   Shot is not yet spent in Battel, you have a Volley in reserve for me
   still- Faith, Officer, the Town has wanted Mirth in your Absence.
   Will. And so might all the wiser part for thee, who hast no Mirth, no
   Gaiety about thee, and when thou wouldst design some Coxcomb's ruin;
   to all the rest, a Soul thou hast so dull, that neither Love nor
   Mirth, nor Wit or Wine can wake it to good Nature- thou'rt one who
   lazily work'st in thy Trade, and sell'st for ready Mony so much
   Kindness; a tame cold Sufferer only, and no more. La Nu. What, you
   would have a Mistress like a Squirrel in a Cage, always in Action- one
   who is as free of her Favours as I am sparing of mine- Well, Captain,
   I have known the time when La Nuche was such a Wit, such a Humour,
   such a Shape, and such a Voice, (tho to say Truth I sing but scurvily)
   'twas Comedy to see and hear me. Will. Why, yes Faith for once thou
   wert, and for once mayst be again, till thou know'st thy Man, and
   knowest him to be poor. At first you lik'd me too, you saw me gay, no
   marks of Poverty dwelt in my Face or Dress, and then I was the dearest
   loveliest Man- all this was to my outside; Death, you made love to my
   Breeches, caress'd my Garniture and Feather, and English Fool of
   Quality you thought me- 'Sheart, I have known a Woman doat on Quality,
   tho he has stunk thro all his Perfumes; one who never went all to Bed
   to her, but left his Teeth, an Eye, false Back and Breast, sometimes
   his Palate too upon her Toilet, whilst her fair Arms hug'd the
   dismember'd Carcase, and swore him all Perfection, because of Quality.
   La Nu. But he was rich, good Captain, was he not? Will. Oh most
   damnably, and a confounded Blockhead, two certain Remedies against
   your Pride and Scorn. La Nu. Have you done, Sir? Will. With thee and
   all thy Sex, of which I've try'd an hundred, and found none true or
   honest. La Nu. Oh, I doubt not the number: for you are one of those
   healthy-stomacht Lovers, that can digest a Mistress in a Night, and
   hunger again next Morning: a Pox of your whining consumptive
   Constitution, who are only constant for want of Appetite: you have a
   swinging Stomach to Variety, and Want having set an edge upon your
   Invention, (with which you cut thro all Difficulties) you grow more
   impudent by Success. Will. I am not always scorn'd then. La Nu. I have
   known you as confidently put your Hands into your Pockets for Money in
   a Morning, as if the Devil had been your Banker, when you knew you put
   'em off at Night as empty as your Gloves. Will. And it may be found
   Money there too. La Nu. Then with this Poverty so proud you are, you
   will not give the Wall to the Catholick King, unless his Picture hung
   upon't. No Servants, no Money, no Meat, always on foot, and yet
   undaunted still. Will. Allow me that, Child. La Nu. I wonder what the
   Devil makes you so termagant on our Sex, 'tis not your high feeding,
   for your Grandees only dine, and that but when Fortune pleases- For
   your parts, who are the poor dependent, brown Bread and old Adam's Ale
   is only current amongst ye; yet if little Eve walk in the Garden, the
   starv'd lean Rogues neigh after her, as if they were in Paradise.
   Will. Still true to Love you see- La Nu. I heard an English Capuchin
   swear, that if the King's Followers could be brought to pray as well
   as fast, there would be more Saints among 'em than the Church has ever
   canoniz'd. Will. All this with Pride I own, since 'tis a royal Cause I
   suffer for; go pursue your Business your own way, insnare the Fool- I
   saw the Toils you set, and how that Face was ordered for the Conquest,
   your Eyes brimful of dying lying Love; and now and then a wishing
   Glance or Sigh thrown as by chance; which when the happy Coxcomb
   caught- you feign'd a Blush, as angry and asham'd of the Discovery:
   and all this Cunning's for a little mercenary Gain- fine Clothes,
   perhaps some Jewels too, whilst all the Finery cannot hide the Whore!
   La Nu. There's your eternal Quarrel to our Sex, 'twere a fine Trade
   indeed to keep a Shop and give your Ware for Love: would it turn to
   account think ye, Captain, to trick and dress, to receive all wou'd
   enter? faith, Captain, try the Trade. Pet. What in Discourse with this
   Railer!- come away; Poverty's catching. [Returns from Discourse with
   Feth. speaks to San. Will. So is the Pox, good Matron, of which you
   can afford good Penniworths. La Nu. He charms me even with his angry
   Looks, and will undo me yet. Pet. Let's leave this Place, I'll tell
   you my Success as we go. [Ex. all, some one way, some another, the
   Forepart of the Church shuts over, except Will. Blunt, Aria. and
   Lucia. Will. She's gone, and all the Plagues of Pride go with her.
   Blunt. Heartlikins, follow her- Pox on't, an I'd but as good a Hand at
   this Game as thou hast, I'll venture upon any Chance- Will. Damn her,
   come, let's to Dinner. Where's Fetherfool? Blunt. Follow'd a good
   Woodman, who gave him the Sign: he'll lodge the Deer e'er night. Will.
   Follow'd her- he durst not, the Fool wants Confidence enough to look
   on her. Blunt. Oh you know not how a Country Justice may be improved
   by Travel; the Rogue was hedg'd in at home with the Fear of his
   Neighbours and the Penal Statutes, now he's broke loose, he runs
   neighing like a Stone-Horse upon the Common. Will. However, I'll not
   believe this- let's follow 'em. [Ex. Will. and Blunt. Aria. He is in
   love, but with a Courtezan- some Comfort that. We'll after him- 'Tis a
   faint-hearted Lover, Who for the first Discouragement gives over. [Ex.
   Ariadne and Lucia. ACT II. SCENE I. The Street. Enter Fetherfool and
   Sancho, passing over the Stage; after them Willmore and Blunt,
   follow'd by Ariadne and Lucia. Will. 'Tis so, by Heaven, he's
   chaffering with her Pimp. I'll spare my Curses on him for having her,
   he has a Plague beyond 'em. -Harkye, I'll never love, nor lie with
   Women more, those Slaves to Lust, to Vanity and Interest. Blunt. Ha,
   Captain! [Shaking his Head and smiling. Will. Come, let's go drink
   Damnation to 'em all. Blunt. Not all, good Captain. Will. All, for I
   hate 'em all- Aria. Heavens! if he should indeed! [Aside. Blunt. But,
   Robert, I have found you most inclined to a Damsel when you had a
   Bottle in your Head. Will. Give me thy Hand, Ned- Curse me, despise
   me, point me out for Cowardice if e'er thou see'st me court a Woman
   more: Nay, when thou knowest I ask any of the Sex a civil Question
   again- a Plague upon 'em, how they've handled me- come, let's go
   drink, I say- Confusion to the Race- A Woman!- no, I will be burnt
   with my own Fire to Cinders e'er any of the Brood shall lay my Flame-
   Aria. He cannot be so wicked to keep this Resolution sure- [She passes
   by. Faith, I must be resolv'd- you've made a pious Resolution, Sir,
   had you the Grace to keep it- [Passing on he pauses, and looks on her.
   Will. Hum- What's that? Blunt. That- O- nothing- but a Woman- come
   away. Will. A Woman! Damn her, what Mischief made her cross my way
   just on the Point of Reformation! Blunt. I find the Devil will not
   lose so hopeful a Sinner. Hold, hold, Captain, have you no Regard to
   your own Soul? 'dsheartlikins, 'tis a Woman, a very errant Woman.
   Aria. Your Friend informs you right, Sir, I am a Woman. Will. Ay,
   Child, or I were a lost Man- therefore, dear lovely Creature- Aria.
   How can you tell, Sir? Will. Oh, I have naturally a large Faith,
   Child, and thou'st promising Form, a tempting Motion, clean Limbs,
   well drest, and a most damnable inviting Air. Aria. I am not to be
   sold, nor fond of Praise I merit not. Will. How, not to be sold too!
   By this light, Child, thou speakest like a Cherubim, I have not heard
   so obliging a Sound from the Mouth of Woman-kind this many a Day- I
   find we must be better acquainted, my Dear. Aria. Your Reason, good
   familiar Sir, I see no such Necessity. Will. Child, you are mistaken,
   I am in great Necessity; for first I love thee- desperately- have I
   not damn'd my Soul already for thee, and wouldst thou be so wicked to
   refuse a little Consolation to my Body? Then secondly, I see thou art
   frank and good-natur'd, and wilt do Reason gratis. Aria. How prove ye
   that, good Mr. Philospher? Will. Thou say'st thou'rt not to be sold,
   and I'm sure thou'rt to be had- that lovely Body of so divine a Form,
   those soft smooth Arms and Hands, were made t'embrace as well as be
   embrac'd; that delicate white rising Bosom to be prest, and all thy
   other Charms to be enjoy'd. Aria. By one that can esteem 'em to their
   worth, can set a Value and a Rate upon 'em. Will. Name not those
   Words, they grate my Ears like Jointure, that dull conjugal Cant that
   frights the generous Lover. Rate- Death, let the old Dotards talk of
   Rates, and pay it t'atone for the Defects of Impotence. Let the sly
   Statesman, who jilts the Commonwealth with his grave Politicks, pay
   for the Sin, that he may doat in secret; let the brisk Fool inch out
   his scanted Sense with a large Purse more eloquent than he: But tell
   not me of Rates, who bring a Heart, Youth, Vigor, and a Tongue to sing
   the Praise of every single Pleasure thou shalt give me. Aria. Then if
   I should be kind, I perceive you would not keep the Secret. Will.
   Secrecy is a damn'd ungrateful Sin, Child, known only where Religion
   and Small-beer are current, despis'd where Apollo and the Vine bless
   the Country: you find none of Jove's Mistresses hid in Roots and
   Plants, but fixt Stars in Heaven for all to gaze and wonder at- and
   tho I am no God, my Dear, I'll do a Mortal's Part, and generously tell
   the admiring World what hidden Charms thou hast: Come, lead me to some
   Place of Happiness- Blunt. Prithee, honest Damsel, be not so full of
   Questions; will a Pistole or two do thee any hurt? Luc. None at all,
   Sir- Blunt. Thou speak'st like a hearty Wench- and I believe hast not
   been one of Venus' Hand-maids so long, but thou understand thy Trade-
   In short, fair Damsel, this honest Fellow here who is so termagant
   upon thy Lady, is my Friend, my particular Friend, and therefore I
   would have him handsomly, and well-favour'dly abus'd- you conceive me.
   Luc. Truly, Sir, a friendly Request- but in what Nature abus'd? Blunt.
   Nature!- why any of your Tricks would serve- but if he could be
   conveniently strip'd and beaten, or tost in a Blanket, or any such
   trivial Business, thou wouldst do me a singular Kindness; as for
   Robbery he defies the Devil: an empty Pocket is an Antidote against
   that Ill. Luc. Your Money, Sir: and if he be not cozen'd, say a
   Spanish Woman has neither Wit nor Invention upon Occasion. Blunt.
   Sheartlikins, how I shall love and honour thee for't- here's earnest-
   [Talks to her with Joy and Grimace. Aria. But who was that you
   entertain'd at Church but now? Will. Faith, one, who for her Beauty
   merits that glorious Title she wears, it was- a Whore, Child. Aria.
   That's but a scurvy Name; yet, if I'm not mistaken, in those false
   Eyes of yours, they look with longing Love upon that- Whore, Child.
   Will. Thou are i'th' right, and by this hand, my Soul was full as
   wishing as my eyes: but a Pox on't, you Women have all a certain
   Jargon, or Gibberish, peculiar to your selves; of Value, Rate,
   Present, Interest, Settlement, Advantage, Price, Maintenance, and the
   Devil and all of Fopperies, which in plain Terms signify ready Money,
   by way of Fine before Entrance; so that an honest well-meaning
   Merchant of Love finds no Credit amongst ye, without his Bill of
   Lading. Aria. We are not all so cruel- but the Devil on't is, your
   good- natur'd Heart is likely accompanied with an ill Face and worse
   Wit. Will. Faith, Child, a ready Dish when a Man's Stomach is up, is
   better than a tedious Feast. I never saw any Man yet cut my piece;
   some are for Beauty, some are for Wit, and some for the Secret, but I
   for all, so it be in a kind Girl: and for Wit in Woman, so she say
   pretty fond things, we understand; tho true or false, no matter. Aria.
   Give the Devil his due, you are a very conscientious Lover: I love a
   Man that scorns to impose dull Truth and Constancy on a Mistress.
   Will. Constancy, that current Coin with Fools! No, Child, Heaven keep
   that Curse from our Doors. Aria. Hang it, it loses Time and Profit,
   new Lovers have new Vows and new Presents, whilst the old feed upon a
   dull repetition of what they did when they were Lovers; 'tis like
   eating the cold Meat ones self, after having given a Friend a Feast.
   Will. Yes, that's the thrifty Food for the Family when the Guests are
   gone. Faith, Child, thou hast made a neat and a hearty Speech: But
   prithee, my Dear, for the future, leave out that same Profit and
   Present, for I have a natural Aversion to hard words; and for matter
   of quick Dispatch in the Business- give me thy Hand, Child- let us but
   start fair, and if thou outstripst me, thou'rt a nimble Racer. [Lucia
   sees Shift. Luc. Oh, Madam, let's be gone: younder's Lieutenant Shift,
   who, if he sees us, will certainly give an Account of it to Mr.
   Beaumond. Let's get in thro the Garden, I have the Key. Aria. Here's
   Company coming, and for several reasons I would not be seen. [Offers
   to go. Will. Gad, Child, nor I; Reputation is tender- therefore
   prithee let's retire. [Offers to go with her. Aria. You must not stir
   a step. Will. Not stir! no Magick Circle can detain me if you go.
   Aria. Follow me then at a distance, and observe where I enter; and at
   night (if your Passion lasts so long) return, and you shall find
   Admittance into the Garden. [Speaking hastily. [He runs out after her.
   Enter Shift. Shift. Well, Sir, the Mountebank's come, and just going
   to begin in the Piazza; I have order'd Matters, that you shall have a
   Sight of the Monsters, and leave to court 'em, and when won, to give
   the Guardian a fourth part of the Portions. Blunt. Good: But Mum-
   here's the Captain, who must by no means know our good Fortune, till
   he see us in State. Enter Willmore, Shift goes to him. Shift. All
   things are ready, Sir, for our Design, the House prepar'd as you
   directed me, the Guardian wrought upon by the Persuasions of the two
   Monsters, to take a Lodging there, and try the Bath of Reformation:
   The Bank's preparing, and the Operators and Musick all ready, and the
   impatient Town flockt together to behold the Man of Wonders, and
   nothing wanting but your Donship and a proper Speech. Will. 'Tis well,
   I'll go fit my self with a Dress, and think of a Speech the while: In
   the mean time, go you and amuse the gaping Fools that expect my
   coming. [Goes out. Enter Fetherfool singing and dancing. Feth. Have
   you heard of a Spanish Lady, How she woo'd an English Man? Blunt. Why,
   how now, Fetherfool? Feth. Garments gay, and rich as may be, Deckt
   with Jewels, had she on. Blunt. Why, how now, Justice, what run mad
   out of Dog-days? Feth. Of a comely Countenance and Grace is she, A
   sweeter Creature in the World there could not be. Shift. Why, what the
   Devil's the matter, Sir? Blunt. Stark mad, 'dshartlikins. Feth. Of a
   Comely Countenance- well, Lieutenant, the most heroick and illustrious
   Madona! Thou saw'st her, Ned: And of a comely Counte- The most
   Magnetick Face- well- I knew the Charms of these Eyes of mine were not
   made in vain: I was design'd for great things, that's certain- And a
   sweeter Creature in the World there could not be. [Singing. Blunt.
   What then the two Lady Monsters are forgotten? the Design upon the
   Million of Money, the Coach and Six, and Patent for Right Worshipful,
   all drown'd in the Joy of this new Mistress?- But well, Lieutenant,
   since he is so well provided for, you may put in with me for a
   Monster; such a Jest, and such a Sum, is not to be lost. Shift. Nor
   shall not, or I have lost my Aim. [Aside. Feth. [Putting off his Hat.]
   Your Pardons, good Gentlemen; and tho I perceive I shall have no great
   need for so trifling a Sum as a hundred thousand Pound, or so, yet a
   Bargain's a Bargain, Gentlemen. Blunt. Nay, 'dsheartlikins, the
   Lieutenant scorns to do a foul thing, d'ye see, but we would not have
   the Monsters slighted. Feth. Slighted! no, Sir, I scorn your Words,
   I'd have ye to know, that I have as high a Respect for Madam Monster,
   as any Gentleman in Christendom, and so I desire she should
   understand. Blunt. Why, this is that that's handsom. Shift. Well, the
   Mountebank's come, Lodgings are taken at his House, and the Guardian
   prepar'd to receive you on the aforesaid Terms, and some fifty
   Pistoles to the Mountebank to stand your Friend, and the Business is
   done. Feth. Which shall be perform'd accordingly, I have it ready
   about me. Blunt. And here's mine, put 'em together, and let's be
   speedy, lest some should bribe higher, and put in before us. [Feth.
   takes the Money, and looks pitiful on't. Feth. Tis a plaguy round Sum,
   Ned, pray God it turn to Account. Blunt. Account, 'dsheartlikins, tis
   not in the Power of mortal Man to cozen 'me. Shift. Oh fie, Sir, cozen
   you, Sir!- well, you'll stay here and see the Mountebank, he's coming
   forth. [A Hollowing. Enter from the Front a Bank, a Pageant, which
   they fix on the Stage at one side, a little Pavilion on't, Musick
   playing, and Operators round below, or Antickers. [Musick plays, and
   an Antick Dance. Enter Willmore like a Mountebank, with a Dagger in
   one Hand, and a Viol in the other, Harlequin and Scaramouche; Carlo
   with other Spaniards below, and Rabble; Ariadne and Lucia above in the
   Balcony, others on the other side, Fetherfool and Blunt below. Will.
   (bowing) Behold this little Viol, which contains in its narrow Bounds
   what the whole Universe cannot purchase, if sold to its true Value;
   this admirable, this miraculous Elixir, drawn from the Hearts of
   Mandrakes, Phenix Livers, and Tongues of Maremaids, and distill'd by
   contracted Sun-Beams, has besides the unknown Virtue of curing all
   Distempers both of Mind and Body, that divine one of animating the
   Heart of Man to that Degree, that however remiss, cold and cowardly by
   Nature, he shall become vigorous and brave. Oh stupid and insensible
   Man, when Honour and secure Renown invites you, to treat it with
   Neglect, even when you need but passive Valour, to become the Heroes
   of the Age; receive a thousand Wounds, each of which wou'd let out
   fleeting Life: Here's that can snatch the parting Soul in its full
   Career, and bring it back to its native Mansion; baffles grim Death,
   and disappoints even Fate. Feth. Oh Pox, an a Man were sure of that
   now- Will. Behold, here's Demonstration- [Harlequin stabs himself, and
   falls as dead. Feth. Hold, hold, why, what the Devil is the Fellow
   mad? Blunt. Why, do'st think he has hurt himself? Feth. Hurt himself!
   why, he's murder'd, Man; 'tis flat Felo de se, in any ground in
   England, if I understand Law, and I have been a Justice o'th' Peace.
   Will. See, Gentlemen, he's dead- Feth. Look ye there now, I'll be gone
   lest I be taken as an Accessary. [Going out. Will. Coffin him, inter
   him, yet after four and twenty Hours, as many Drops of this divine
   Elixir give him new Life again; this will recover whole Fields of
   slain, and all the Dead shall rise and fight again- 'twas this that
   made the Roman Legions numerous, and now makes France so formidable,
   and this alone- may be the Occasion of the loss of Germany. [Pours in
   Harlequin's Wound, he rises. Feth. Why this Fellow's the Devil, Ned,
   that's for certain. Blunt. Oh plague, a damn'd Conjurer, this- Will.
   Come, buy this Coward's Comfort, quickly buy; what Fop would be
   abus'd, mimick'd and scorn'd, for fear of Wounds can be so easily
   cured? Who is't wou'd bear the Insolence and Pride of domineering
   great Men, proud Officers or Magistrates? or who wou'd cringe to
   Statesmen out of Fear? What Cully wou'd be cuckolded? What foolish
   Heir undone by cheating Gamesters? What Lord wou'd be lampoon'd? What
   Poet fear the Malice of his satirical Brother, or Atheist fear to
   fight for fear of Death? Come buy my Coward's Comfort, quickly buy.
   Feth. Egad, Ned, a very excellent thing this; I'll lay out ten Reals
   upon this Commodity. [They buy, whilst another Part of the Dance is
   danc'd. Will. Behold this little Paper, which contains a Pouder, whose
   Value surmounts that of Rocks of Diamonds and Hills of Gold; 'twas
   this made Venus a Goddess, and was given her by Apollo, from her
   deriv'd to Helen, and in the Sack of Troy lost, till recover'd by me
   out of some Ruins of Asia. Come, buy it, Ladies, you that wou'd be
   fair and wear eternal Youth; and you in whom the amorous Fire remains,
   when all the Charms are fled: You that dress young and gay, and would
   be thought so, that patch and paint, to fill up sometimes old Furrows
   on your Brows, and set yourselves for Conquest, tho in vain; here's
   that will give you aubern Hair, white Teeth, red Lips, and Dimples on
   your Cheeks: Come, buy it all you that are past bewitching, and wou'd
   have handsom, young and active Lovers. Feth. Another good thing, Ned.
   Car. I'll lay out a Pistole or two in this, if it have the same Effect
   on Men. Will. Come, all you City Wives, that wou'd advance your
   Husbands to Lord Mayors, come, buy of me new Beauty; this will give it
   tho now decay'd, as are your Shop Commodities; this will retrieve your
   Customers, and vend your false and out of fashion'd Wares: cheat, lye,
   protest and cozen as you please, a handsom Wife makes all a lawful
   Gain. Come, City Wives, come, buy. Feth. A most prodigious Fellow!
   [They buy, he sits, the other Part is danc'd. Will. But here, behold
   the Life and Soul of Man! this is the amorous Pouder, which Venus made
   and gave the God of Love, which made him first a Deity; you talk of
   Arrows, Bow, and killing Darts; Fables, poetical Fictions, and no
   more: 'tis this alone that wounds and fires the Heart, makes Women
   kind, and equals Men to Gods; 'tis this that makes your great Lady
   doat on the ill-favour'd Fop; your great Man be jilted by his little
   Mistress, the Judge cajol'd by his Semstress, and your Politican by
   his Comedian; your young lady doat on her decrepid Husband, your
   Chaplain on my Lady's Waiting-Woman, and the young Squire on the
   Landry-Maid- In fine, Messieurs, 'Tis this that cures the Lover's
   Pain, And Celia of her cold Disdain. Feth. A most devilish Fellow
   this! Blunt. Hold, shartlikins, Fetherfool, let's have a Dose or two
   of this Pouder for quick Dispatch with our Monsters. Feth. Why Pox,
   Man, Jugg my Giant would swallow a whole Cart-Load before 'twould
   operate. Blunt. No hurt in trying a Paper or two however. Car. A most
   admirable Receit, I shall have need on't. Will. I need say nothing of
   my divine Baths of Reformation, nor the wonders of the old Oracle of
   the Box, which resolves all Questions, my Bills sufficiently declare
   their Virtue. [Sits down. They buy. Enter Petronella Elenora carried
   in a Chair, dress'd like a Girl of Fifteen. Shift. Room there,
   Gentlemen, room for a Patient. Blunt. Pray, Seignior, who may this be
   thus muzzl'd by old Gaffer Time? Car. One Petronella Elenora, Sir, a
   famous outworn Curtezan. Blunt. Elenora! she may be that of Troy for
   her Antiquity, tho fitter for God Priapus to ravish than Paris. Shift.
   Hunt, a word; dost thou see that same formal Politician yonder, on the
   Jennet, the nobler Animal of the two? Hunt. What of him? Shift. 'Tis
   the same drew on the Captain this Morning, and I must revenge the
   Affront. Hunt. Have a care of Revenges in Spain, upon Persons of his
   Quality. Shift. Nay, I'll only steal his Horse from under him. Hunt.
   Steal it! thou may'st take it by force perhaps; but how safely is a
   Question. Shift. I'll warrant thee- shoulder you up one side of his
   great Saddle, I'll do the like on t'other; then heaving him gently up,
   Harlequin shall lead the Horse from between his Worship's Legs: All
   this in the Crowd will not be perceiv'd, where all Eyes are imploy'd
   on the Mountebank. Hunt. I apprehend you now- [Whilst they are lifting
   Petronella on the Mountebank's Stage, they go into the Crowd, shoulder
   up Carlo's Saddle. Harlequin leads the Horse forward, whilst Carlo is
   gazing, and turning up his Mustachios; they hold him up a little
   while, then let him drop: he rises and stares about for his Horse.
   Car. This is flat Conjuration. Shift. What's your Worship on foot?
   Hunt. I never saw his Worship on foot before. Car. Sirrah, none of
   your Jests, this must be by diabolical Art, and shall cost the
   Seignior dear- Men of my Garb affronted- my Jennet vanisht- most
   miraculous- by St. Jago, I'll be revenged- hah, what's here- La Nuche-
   [Surveys her at a distance. Enter La Nuche, Aurelia, Sancho. La Nu. We
   are pursu'd by Beaumond, who will certainly hinder our speaking to
   Willmore, should we have the good fortune to see him in this Crowd-
   and yet there's no avoiding him. Beau. 'Tis she, how carefully she
   shuns me! Aur. I'm satisfied he knows us by the jealous Concern which
   appears in that prying Countenance of his. Beau. Stay, Cruel, is it
   Love or Curiosity, that wings those nimble Feet? [Holds her. [Lucia
   above and Ariadne.] Aria. Beaumond with a Woman! Beau. Have you forgot
   this is the glorious Day that ushers in the Night shall make you mine?
   the happiest Night that ever favour'd Love! La Nu. Or if I have, I
   find you'll take care to remember me. Beau. Sooner I could forget the
   Aids of Life, sooner forget how first that Beauty charm'd me. La Nu.
   Well, since your Memory's so good, I need not doubt your coming. Beau.
   Still cold and unconcern'd! How have I doated, and how sacrific'd,
   regardless of my Fame, lain idling here, when all the Youth of Spain
   were gaining Honour, valuing one Smile of thine above their Laurels!
   La Nu. And in return, I do submit to yield, preferring you above those
   fighting Fools, who safe in Multitudes reap Honour cheaper. Beau. Yet
   there is one- one of those fighting Fools which should'st thou see, I
   fear I were undone; brave, handsome, gay, and all that Women doat on,
   unfortunate in every good of Life, but that one Blessing of obtaining
   Women: Be wise, for if thou seest him thou art lost- Why dost thou
   blush? La Nu. Because you doubt my Heart- 'tis Willmore that he means.
   [Aside.] We've Eyes upon us, Don Carlo may grow jealous, and he's a
   powerful Rival- at night I shall expect ye. Beau. Whilst I prepare my
   self for such a Blessing. [Ex. Beau. Car. Hah! a Cavalier in
   conference with La Nuche! and entertain'd without my knowledge! I must
   prevent this Lover, for he's young- and this Night will surprise her.
   [Aside. Will. And you would be restor'd? [To Petro. Pet. Yes, if there
   be that Divinity in your Baths of Reformation. Will. There are. New
   Flames shall sparkle in those Eyes; And these grey Hairs flowing and
   bright shall rise: These Cheeks fresh Buds of Roses wear, And all your
   wither'd Limbs so smooth and clear, As shall a general Wonder move,
   And wound a thousand Hearts with Love. Pet. A Blessing on you, Sir,
   there's fifty Pistoles for you, and as I earn it you shall have more.
   [They lift her down. [Exit Willmore bowing. Shift. Messieurs, 'tis
   late, and the Seignior's Patients stay for him at his Laboratory, to
   morrow you shall see the conclusion of this Experiment, and so I
   humbly take my leave at this time. Enter Willmore, below sees La
   Nuche, makes up to her, whilst the last part of the Dance is dancing.
   La Nu. What makes you follow me, Sir? [She goes from him, he pursues.
   Will. Madam, I see something in that lovely Face of yours, which if
   not timely prevented will be your ruin: I'm now in haste, but I have
   more to say- [Goes off. La Nu. Stay, Sir- he's gone- and fill'd me
   with a curiosity that will not let me rest till it be satisfied:
   Follow me, Aurelia, for I must know my Destiny. [Goes out. [The Dance
   ended, the Bank removes, the People go off. Feth. Come, Ned, now for
   our amorous Visit to the two Lady Monsters. [Ex. Feth. and Blunt.
   SCENE II. Changes to a fine Chamber. Enter Ariadne and Lucia. Aria.
   I'm thoughtful: Prithee, Cousin, sing some foolish Song- SONG.
   Phillis, whose Heart was unconfin'd And free as Flowers on Meads and
   Plains, None boasted of her being kind, 'Mongst all the languishing
   and amorous Swains: No Sighs nor Tears the Nymph could move [bis. To
   pity or return their Love. Till on a time, the hapless Maid Retir'd to
   shun the heat o'th' Day, Into a Grove, beneath whose Shade Strephon,
   the careless Shepherd, sleeping lay: But oh such Charms the Youth
   adorn, [bis. Love is reveng'd for all her Scorn. Her Cheeks with
   Blushes covered were, And tender Sighs her Bosom warm; A softness in
   her Eyes appear, Unusual Pains she feels from every Charm: To Woods
   and Ecchoes now she cries, [bis. For Modesty to speak denies. Aria.
   Come, help to undress me, for I'll to this Mountebank, to know what
   success I shall have with my Cavalier. [Unpins her things before a
   great Glass that is fasten'd. Luc. You are resolv'd then to give him
   admittance? Aria. Where's the danger of a handsom young Fellow? Luc.
   But you don't know him, Madam. Aria. But I desire to do, and time may
   bring it about without Miracle. Luc. Your Cousin Beaumond will forbid
   the Banes. Aria. No, nor old Carlos neither, my Mother's precious
   Choice, who is as sollicitous for the old Gentleman, as my
   Father-in-Law is for his Nephew. Therefore, Lucia, like a good and
   gracious Child, I'll end the Dispute between my Father and Mother, and
   please my self in the choice of this Stranger, if he be to be had.
   Luc. I should as soon be enamour'd on the North Wind, a Tempest, or a
   Clap of Thunder. Bless me from such a Blast. Aria. I'd have a Lover
   rough as Seas in Storms, upon occasion; I hate your dull temperate
   Lover, 'tis such a husbandly quality, like Beaumond's Addresses to me,
   whom neither Joy nor Anger puts in motion; or if it do, 'tis visibly
   forc'd- I'm glad I saw him entertain a Woman to day, not that I care,
   but wou'd be fairly rid of him. Luc. You'll hardly mend your self in
   this. Aria. What, because he held Discourse with a Curtezan? Luc. Why,
   is there no danger in her Eyes, do ye think? Aria. None that I fear,
   that Stranger's not such a fool to give his Heart to a common Woman;
   and she that's concern'd where her Lover bestows his Body, were I the
   Man, I should think she had a mind to't her self. Luc. And reason,
   Madam: in a lawful way 'tis your due. Aria. What all? unconscionable
   Lucia! I am more merciful; but be he what he will, I'll to this
   cunning Man, to know whether ever any part of him shall be mine. Luc.
   Lord, Madam, sure he's a Conjurer. Aria. Let him be the Devil, I'll
   try his Skill, and to that end will put on a Suit of my Cousin
   Endymion; there are two or three very pretty ones of his in the
   Wardrobe, go carry 'em to my Chamber, and we'll fit our selves and
   away- Go haste whilst I undress. [Ex. Lucia. [Ariadne undressing
   before the Glass. Enter Beaumond tricking himself, and looks on
   himself. Beau. Now for my charming Beauty, fair La Nuche- hah-
   Ariadne- damn the dull Property, how shall I free my self? [She turns,
   sees him, and walks from the Glass, he takes no notice of her, but
   tricks himself the Glass, humming a Song. Aria. Beaumond! What Devil
   brought him hither to prevent me? I hate the formal matrimonial Fop.
   [He walks about and sings. Sommes nous pas trop heureux, Belle Irise,
   que nous ensemble. A Devil on him, he may chance to plague me till
   night, and hinder my dear Assignation. [Sings again. La Nuit et le
   Sombre voiles Coverie nos desires ardentes; Et l' Amour et les Etoiles
   Sont nos secrets confidents. Beau. Pox on't, how dull am I at an
   excuse? [Sets his Wig in the Glass, and sings. A Pox of Love and
   Woman-kind, And all the Fops adore 'em. [Puts on his Hat, cocks it,
   and goes to her. How is't, Cuz? Aria. So, here's the saucy freedom of
   a Husband Lover- a blest Invention this of marrying, whoe'er first
   found it out. Beau. Damn this English Dog of a Perriwig-maker, what an
   ungainly Air it gives the Face, and for a Wedding Perriwig too- how
   dost thou like it, Ariadne? [Uneasy. Aria. As ill as the Man- I
   perceive you have taken more care for your Perriwig than your Bride.
   Beau. And with reason, Ariadne, the Bride was never the care of the
   Lover, but the business of the Parents; 'tis a serious Affair, and
   ought to be manag'd by the grave and wise: Thy Mother and my Uncle
   have agreed the Matter, and would it not look very sillily in me now
   to whine a tedious Tale of Love in your Ear, when the business is at
   an end? 'tis like saying a Grace when a Man should give Thanks. Aria.
   Why did you not begin sooner then? Beau. Faith, Ariadne, because I
   know nothing of the Design in hand; had I had civil warning, thou
   shouldst have had as pretty smart Speeches from me, as any Coxcomb
   Lover of 'em all could have made thee. Aria. I shall never marry like
   a Jew in my own Tribe; I'll rather be possest by honest old doating
   Age, than by saucy conceited Youth, whose Inconstancy never leaves a
   Woman safe or quiet. Beau. You know the Proverb of the half Loaf,
   Ariadne; a Husband that will deal thee some Love is better than one
   who can give thee none: you would have a blessed time on't with old
   Father Carlo. Aria. No matter, a Woman may with some lawful excuse
   cuckold him, and 'twould be scarce a Sin. Beau. Not so much as lying
   with him, whose reverend Age wou'd make it look like Incest. Aria. But
   to marry thee- would be a Tyranny from whence there's no Appeal: A
   drinking whoring Husband! 'tis the Devil- Beau. You are deceiv'd, if
   you think Don Carlo more chaste than I; only duller, and more a Miser,
   one that fears his Flesh more, and loves his Money better.- Then to be
   condemn'd to lie with him- oh, who would not rejoice to meet a
   Woollen-Waistcoat, and knit Night-Cap without a Lining, a Shirt so
   nasty, a cleanly Ghost would not appear in't at the latter Day? then
   the compound of nasty Smells about him, stinking Breath, Mustachoes
   stuft with villainous snush, Tobacco, and hollow Teeth: thus prepar'd
   for Delight, you meet in Bed, where you may lie and sigh whole Nights
   away, he snores it out till Morning, and then rises to his sordid
   business. Aria. All this frights me not: 'tis still much better than a
   keeping Husband, whom neither Beauty nor Honour in a Wife can oblige.
   Beau. Oh, you know not the good-nature of a Man of Wit, at least I
   shall bear a Conscience, and do thee reason, which Heaven denies to
   old Carlo, were he willing. Aria. Oh, he talks as high, and thinks as
   well of himself as any young Coxcomb of ye all. Beau. He has reason,
   for if his Faith were no better than his Works, he'd be damn'd. Aria.
   Death, who wou'd marry, who wou'd be chaffer'd thus, and sold to
   Slavery? I'd rather buy a Friend at any Price that I could love and
   trust. Beau. Ay, could we but drive on such a Bargain. Aria. You
   should not be the Man; You have a Mistress, Sir, that has your Heart,
   and all your softer Hours: I know't, and if I were so wretched as to
   marry thee, must see my Fortune lavisht out on her; her Coaches,
   Dress, and Equipage exceed mine by far: Possess she all the day thy
   Hours of Mirth, good Humour and Expence, thy Smiles, thy Kisses, and
   thy Charms of Wit. Oh how you talk and look when in her Presence! but
   when with me, A Pox of Love and Woman-kind, [Sings. And all the Fops
   adore 'em. How it's, Cuz- then slap, on goes the Beaver, which being
   cock'd, you bear up briskly, with the second Part to the same Tune-
   Harkye, Sir, let me advise you to pack up your Trumpery and be gone,
   your honourable Love, your matrimonial Foppery, with your other
   Trinkets thereunto belonging; or I shall talk aloud, and let your
   Uncle hear you. Beau. Sure she cannot know I love La Nuche. [Aside.
   The Devil take me, spoil'd! What Rascal has inveigled thee? What lying
   fawning coward has abus'd thee? When fell you into this Leudness? Pox,
   thou art hardly worth the loving now, that canst be such a Fool, to
   wish me chaste, or love me for that Virtue; or that wouldst have me a
   ceremonious help, one that makes handsom Legs to Knights without
   laughing, or with a sneaking modest Squirish Countenance; assure you,
   I have my Maidenhead. A Curse upon thee, the very thought of Wife has
   made thee formal. Aria. I must dissemble, or he'll stay all day to
   make his peace again- why, have you ne'er- a Mistress then? Beau. A
   hundred, by this day, as many as I like, they are my Mirth, the
   business of my loose and wanton Hours; but thou art my Devotion, the
   grave, the solemn Pleasure of my Soul- Pox, would I were handsomly rid
   of thee too. [Aside. -Come, I have business- send me pleas'd away.
   Aria. Would to Heaven thou wert gone; [Aside. You're going to some
   Woman now. Beau. Oh damn the Sex, I hate 'em all- but thee- farewell,
   my pretty jealous- sullen- Fool. [Goes out. Aria. Farewel, believing
   Coxcomb. [Enter Lucia. Lucia. Madam, the Clothes are ready in your
   Chamber. Aria. Let's haste and put 'em on then. [Runs out. ACT III.
   SCENE I. A House. Enter Fetherfool and Blunt, staring about, after
   them Shift. Shift. Well, Gentlemen, this is the Doctor's House, and
   your fifty Pistoles has made him intirely yours; the Ladies too are
   here in safe Custody- Come, draw Lots who shall have the Dwarf, and
   who the Giant. [They draw. Feth. I have the Giant. Blunt. And I the
   little tiny Gentlewoman. Shift. Well, you shall first see the Ladies,
   and then prepare for your Uncle Moses, the old Jew Guardian, before
   whom you must be very grave and sententious: You know the old Law was
   full of Ceremony. Feth. Well, I long to see the Ladies, and to have
   the first Onset over. Shift. I'll cause 'em to walk forth immediately.
   [Goes out. Feth. My Heart begins to fail me plaguily- would I could
   see 'em a little at a Distance before they come slap dash upon a Man.
   [Peeping. Hah!- Mercy upon us!- What's yonder!- Ah, Ned my Monster is
   as big as the Whore of Babylon- Oh I'm in a cold Sweat- [Blunt pulls
   him to peep, and both do so. Oh Lord! she's as tall as the St.
   Christopher in Notre-dame at Paris, and the little one looks like the
   Christo upon his Shoulders- I shall ne'er be able to stand the first
   Brunt. Blunt. 'Dsheartlikins, whither art going? [Pulls him back.
   Feth. Why only- to- say my Prayers a little- I'll be with thee
   presently. [Offers to go, he pulls him. Blunt. What a Pox, art thou
   afraid of a Woman- Feth. Not of a Woman, Ned, but of a She Gargantua,
   I am of a Hercules in Petticoats. Blunt. The less Resemblance the
   better. 'Shartlikins, I'd rather mine were a Centaur than a Woman: No,
   since my Naples Adventure, I am clearly for your Monster. Feth.
   Prithee, Ned, there's Reason in all things- Blunt. But villainous
   Woman- 'Dshartlikins, stand your Ground, or I'll nail you to't: Why,
   what a Pox are you so quezy stomach'd, a Monster won't down with you,
   with a hundred thousand Pound to boot. [Pulling him. Feth. Nay, Ned,
   that mollifies something; and I scorn it should be said of Nich.
   Fetherfool that he left his Friend in danger, or did an ill thing:
   therefore, as thou say'st, Ned, tho she were a Centaur, I'll not budg
   an Inch. Blunt. Why God a Mercy. Enter the Giant and Dwarf, with them
   Shift as an Operator, and Harlequin attending. Feth. Oh- they come-
   Prithee, Ned, advance- [Puts him forward. Shift. Most beautiful
   Ladies. Feth. Why, what a flattering Son of a Whore's this? Shift.
   These are the illustrious Persons your Uncle designs your humble
   Servants, and who have so extraordinary a Passion for your
   Seignioraships. Feth. Oh yes, a most damnable one: Wou'd I were
   cleanlily off the Lay, and had my Money again. Blunt. Think of a
   Million, Rogue, and do not hang an Arse thus. Giant. What, does the
   Cavalier think I'll devour him? [To Shift. Feth. Something inclin'd to
   such a Fear. Blunt. Go and salute her, or, Adsheartlikins, I'll leave
   you to her Mercy. Feth. Oh, dear Ned, have pity on me- but as for
   saluting her, you speak of more than may be done, dear Heart, without
   a Scaling Ladder. [Exit Shift. Dwarf. Sure, Seignior Harlequin, these
   Gentlemen are dumb. Blunt. No, my little diminutive Mistress, my small
   Epitomy of Woman-kind, we can prattle when our Hands are in, but we
   are raw and bashful, young Beginners; for this is the first time we
   ever were in love: we are something aukard, or so, but we shall come
   on in time, and mend upon Incouragement. Feth. Pox on him, what a
   delicate Speech has he made now- 'Gad, I'd give a thousand Pounds a
   Year for Ned's concise Wit, but not a Groat for his Judgment in
   Womankind. Enter Shift with a Ladder, sets it against the Giant, and
   bows to Fetherfool. Shift. Here, Seignior, Don, approach, mount, and
   salute the Lady. Feth. Mount! why, 'twould turn my Brains to look down
   from her Shoulders- But hang't, 'Gad, I will be brave and venture.
   [Runs up the Ladder, salutes her, and runs down again. And Egad this
   was an Adventure and a bold one- but since I am come off with a whole
   Skin, I am flesht for the next onset- Madam- has your Greatness any
   mind to marry? [Goes to her, speaks, and runs back; Blunt claps him on
   the Back. Giant. What if have? Feth. Why then, Madam, without
   inchanted Sword or Buckler, I'm your Man. Giant. My Man? my Mouse.
   I'll marry none whose Person and Courage shall not bear some
   Proportion to mine. Feth. Your Mightiness I fear will die a Maid then.
   Giant. I doubt you'll scarce secure me from that Fear, who court my
   Fortune, not my Beauty. Feth. Hu, how scornful she is, I'll warrant
   you- why I must confess, your Person is something heroical and
   masculine, but I protest to your Highness, I love and honour ye.
   Dwarf. Prithee, Sister, be not so coy, I like my Lover well enough;
   and if Seignior Mountebank keep his Word in making us of reasonable
   Proportions, I think the Gentlemen may serve for Husbands. Shift.
   Dissemble, or you betray your Love for us. [Aside to the Giant. Giant.
   And if he do keep his Word, I should make a better Choice, not that I
   would change this noble Frame of mine, cou'd I but meet my Match, and
   keep up the first Race of Man intire: But since this scanty World
   affords none such, I to be happy, must be new created, and then shall
   expect a wiser Lover. Feth. Why, what a peevish Titt's this; nay? look
   ye, Madam, as for that matter, your Extraordinariness may do what you
   please- but 'tis not done like a Monster of Honour, when a Man has set
   his Heart upon you, to cast him off- Therefore I hope you'll pity a
   despairing Lover, and cast down an Eye of Consolation upon me; for I
   vow, most Amazonian Princess, I love ye as if Heaven and Earth wou'd
   come together. Dwarf. My Sister will do much, I'm sure, to save the
   Man that loves her so passionately- she has a Heart. Feth. And a
   swinger 'tis- 'Sbud- she moves like the Royal Sovereign, and is as
   long a tacking about. [Aside. Giant. Then your Religion, Sir. Feth.
   Nay, as for that, Madam, we are English, a Nation I thank God, that
   stand as little upon Religion as any Nation under the Sun, unless it
   be in Contradiction; and at this time have so many amongst us, a Man
   knows not which to turn his Hand to- neither will I stand with your
   Hugeness for a small matter of Faith or so- Religion shall break no
   squares. Dwarf. I hope, Sir, you are of your Friend's Opinion. Blunt.
   My little Spark of a Diamond, I am, I was born a Jew, with an Aversion
   to Swines Flesh. Dwarf. Well, Sir, I shall hasten Seignior Doctor to
   compleat my Beauty, by some small Addition, to appear the more
   grateful to you. Blunt. Lady, do not trouble yourself with transitory
   Parts, 'Dshartlikins thou'rt as handsom as needs be for a Wife. Dwarf.
   A little taller, Seignior, wou'd not do amiss, my younger Sister has
   got so much the Start of me. Blunt. In troth she has, and now I think
   on't, a little taller wou'd do well for Propagation; I should be loth
   the Posterity of the antient Family of the Blunts of Essex should
   dwindle into Pigmies or Fairies. Giant. Well, Seigniors, since you
   come with our Uncle's liking, we give ye leave to hope, hope- and be
   happy- [They go out with Harlequin. Feth. Egad, and that's great and
   gracious- Enter Willmore and an Operator. Will. Well, Gentlemen, and
   how like you the Ladies? Blunt. Faith, well enough for the first
   Course, Sir. Will. The Uncle, by my indeavour, is intirely yours- but
   whilst the Baths are preparing, 'twould be well if you would think of
   what Age, Shape, and Complexion you would have your Ladies form'd in.
   Feth. Why, may we chuse, Mr. Doctor? Will. What Beauties you please.
   Feth. Then will I have my Giant, Ned, just such another Gentlewoman as
   I saw at Church to day- and about some fifteen. Blunt. Hum, fifteen- I
   begin to have a plaguy Itch about me too, towards a handsome Damsel of
   fifteen; but first let's marry, lest they should be boiled away in
   these Baths of Reformation. Feth. But, Doctor, can you do all this
   without the help of the Devil? Will. Hum, some small Hand he has in
   the Business? we make an Exchange with him, give him the clippings of
   the Giant for so much of his Store as will serve to build the Dwarf.
   Blunt. Why, then mine will be more than three Parts Devil, Mr. Doctor.
   Will. Not so, the Stock is only Devil, the Graft is your own little
   Wife inoculated. Blunt. Well, let the Devil and you agree about this
   matter as soon as you please. Enter Shift as an Operator. Shift. Sir,
   there is without a Person of an extraordinary Size wou'd speak with
   you. Will. Admit him. Enter Harlequin, ushers in Hunt as a Giant.
   Feth. Hah- some o'ergrown Rival, on my Life. [Feth. gets from it.
   Will. What the Devil have we here? [Aside. Hunt. Bezolos mano's,
   Seignior, I understand there is a Lady whose Beauty and Proportion can
   only merit me: I'll say no more- but shall be grateful to you for your
   Assistance. Feth. 'Tis so. Hunt. The Devil's in't if this does not
   fright 'em from a farther Courtship. [Aside. Will. Fear nothing,
   Seignior- Seignior, you may try your Chance, and visit the Ladies.
   [Talks to Hunt. Feth. Why, where the Devil could this Monster conceal
   himself all this while, that we should neither see nor hear of him?
   Blunt. Oh- he lay disguis'd; I have heard of an Army that has done so.
   Feth. Pox, no single House cou'd hold him. Blunt. No- he dispos'd
   himself in several parcels up and down the Town, here a Leg, and there
   an Arm; and hearing of this proper Match for him, put himself together
   to court his fellow Monster. Feth. Good Lord! I wonder what Religion
   he's of. Blunt. Some heathen Papist, by his notable Plots and
   Contrivances. Will. 'Tis Hunt, that Rogue- [Aside. Sir, I confess
   there is great Power in Sympathy- Conduct him to the Ladies- [He tries
   to go in at the Door. -I am sorry you cannot enter at that low Door,
   Seignior, I'll have it broken down- Hunt. No, Seignior, I can go in at
   twice. Feth. How, at twice! what a Pox can he mean? Will. Oh, Sir,
   'tis a frequent thing by way of Inchantment [Hunt being all Doublet,
   leaps off from another Man who is all Breeches, and goes out; Breeches
   follows stalking. Feth. Oh Pox, Mr. Doctor, this must be the Devil.
   Will. Oh fie, Sir, the Devil! no 'tis all done inchanted Girdle- These
   damn'd Rascals will spoil all by too gross an Imposition on the Fools.
   [Aside. Feth. This is the Devil, Ned, that's certain- But hark ye, Mr.
   Doctor, I hope I shall not have my Mistress inchanted from me by this
   inchanted Rival, hah? Will. Oh, no, Sir, the Inquisition will never
   let 'em marry, for fear of a Race of Giants, 'twill be worse than the
   Invasion of the Moors, or the French: but go- think of your Mistresses
   Names and Ages, here's Company, and you would not be seen. [Ex. Blunt
   and Feth. Enter La Nuche and Aurelia; Will. bows to her. La Nu. Sir,
   the Fame of your excellent Knowledge, and what you said to me this
   day; has given me a Curiosity to learn my Fate, at least that Fate you
   threatened. Will. Madam, from the Oracle in the Box you may be
   resolved any Question- [Leads her to the Table, where stands a Box
   full of Balls; he stares on her. -How lovely every absent minute makes
   her- Madam, be pleas'd to draw from out this Box what Ball you will.
   [She draws, he takes it, and gazes on her and on it. Madam, upon this
   little Globe is character'd your Fate and Fortune; the History of your
   Life to come and past- first, Madam- you're- a Whore. La Nu. A very
   plain beginning. Will. My Art speaks simple Truth; the Moon is your
   Ascendent, that covetous Planet that borrows all her Light, and is in
   opposition still to Venus; and Interest more prevails with you than
   Love: yet here I find a cross- intruding Line- that does inform me-
   you have an Itch that way, but Interest still opposes: you are a
   slavish mercenary Prostitute. La Nu. Your Art is so, tho call'd
   divine, and all the Universe is sway'd by Interest: and would you wish
   this Beauty which adorns me, should be dispos'd about for Charity?
   Proceed and speak more Reason. Will. But Venus here gets the Ascent
   again, and spite of- Interest, spite of all Aversion, will make you
   doat upon a Man- [Still looking on, and turning the Ball. Wild,
   fickle, restless, faithless as the Winds!- a Man of Arms he is- and by
   this Line- a Captain- [Looking on her. for Mars and Venus were in
   conjunction at his Birth- and Love and War's his business. La Nu.
   There thou hast toucht my Heart, and spoke so true, that all thou
   say'st I shall receive as Oracle. Well, grant I love, that shall not
   make me yield. Will. I must confess you're ruin'd if you yield, and
   yet not all your Pride, not all your Vows, your Wit, your Resolution,
   or your Cunning, can hinder him from conquering absolutely: your Stars
   are fixt, and Fate irrevocable. La Nu. No,- I will controul my Stars
   and Inclinations; and tho I love him more than Power or Interest, I
   will be Mistress of my fixt Resolves- One Question more- Does this
   same Captain, this wild happy Man love me? Will. I do not- find- it
   here- only a possibility incourag'd by your Love- Oh that you cou'd
   resist- but you are destin'd his, and to be ruin'd. [Sighs, and looks
   on her, she grows in a Rage. La Nu. Why do you tell me this? I am
   betray'd, and every caution blows my kindling Flame- hold- tell me no
   more- I might have guess'd my Fate, from my own Soul have guest it-
   but yet I will be brave, I will resist in spite of Inclinations,
   Stars, or Devils. Will. Strive not, fair Creature, with the Net that
   holds you, you'll but intangle more. Alas! you must submit and be
   undone. La Nu. Damn your false Art- had he but lov'd me too, it had
   excus'd the Malice of my Stars. Will. Indeed, his Love is doubtful;
   for here- I trace him in a new pursuit- which if you can this Night
   prevent, perhaps you fix him. La Nu. Hah, pursuing a new Mistress!
   there thou hast met the little Resolution I had left, and dasht it
   into nothing- but I have vow'd Allegiance to my Interest- Curse on my
   Stars, they cou'd not give me Love where that might be advanc'd- I'll
   hear no more. [Gives him Money. Enter Shift. Enter Shift. Shift. Sir,
   there are several Strangers arriv'd, who talk of the old Oracle. How
   will you receive 'em? Will. I've business now, and must be excus'd a
   while.- Thus far- I'm well; but I may tell my Tale so often o'er,
   till, like the Trick of Love, I spoil the pleasure by the repetition.-
   Now I'll uncase, and see what Effects my Art has wrought on La Nuche,
   for she's the promis'd Good, the Philosophick Treasure that terminates
   my Toil and Industry. Wait you here. [Ex. Will. Enter Ariadne in Mens
   Clothes, with Lucia so drest, and other Strangers. Aria. How now,
   Seignior Operator, where's this renowned Man of Arts and Sciences,
   this Don of Wonders?- hah! may a Man have a Pistole's Worth or two of
   his Tricks? will he shew, Seignor? Shift. Whatever you dare see, Sir.
   Aria. And I dare see the greatest Bug-bear he can conjure up, my
   Mistress's Face in a Glass excepted. Shift. That he can shew, Sir, but
   is now busied in weighty Affairs with a Grandee. Aria. Pox, must we
   wait the Leisure of formal Grandees and Statesmen- ha, who's this?-
   the lovely Conqueress of my Heart, La Nuche. [Goes to her, she is
   talking with Aurel. La Nu. What foolish thing art thou? Aria. Nay, do
   not frown, nor fly; for if you do, I must arrest you, fair one. La Nu.
   At whose Suit, pray? Aria. At Love's- you have stol'n a Heart of mine,
   and us'd it scurvily. La Nu. By what marks do you know the Toy, that I
   may be no longer troubled with it? Aria. By a fresh Wound, which
   toucht by her that gave it bleeds anew, a Heart all over kind and
   amorous. La Nu. When was this pretty Robbery committed? Aria. To day,
   most sacrilegiously, at Church, where you debauch'd my Zeal; and when
   I wou'd have pray'd, your Eyes had put the Change upon my Tongue, and
   made it utter Railings: Heav'n forgive ye! La Nu. You are the gayest
   thing without a Heart, I ever saw. Aria. I scorn to flinch for a bare
   Wound or two; nor is he routed that has lost the day, he may again
   rally, renew the Fight, and vanquish. La Nu. You have a good opinion
   of that Beauty, which I find not so forcible, nor that fond Prattle
   uttered with such Confidence. Aria. But I have Quality and Fortune
   too. La Nu. So had you need. I should have guest the first by your
   pertness; for your saucy thing of Quality acts the Man as impudently
   at fourteen, as another at thirty: nor is there any thing so hateful
   as to hear it talk of Love, Women and Drinking; nay, to see it marry
   too at that Age, and get itself a Play- fellow in its Son and Heir.
   Aria. This Satyr on my Youth shall never put me out of countenance, or
   make me think you wish me one day older; and egad, I'll warrant them
   that tries me, shall find me ne'er an hour too young. La Nu. You
   mistake my Humour, I hate the Person of a fair conceited Boy. Enter
   Willmore drest, singing. Will. Vole, vole dans cette Cage, Petite
   Oyseau dans cet bocage. -How now, Fool, where's the Doctor? Shift. A
   little busy, Sir. Will. Call him, I am in haste, and come to cheapen
   the Price of Monster. Shift. As how, Sir? Will. In an honourable way,
   I will lawfully marry one of 'em, and have pitcht upon the Giant; I'll
   bid as fair as any Man. Shift. No doubt but you will speed, Sir:
   please you, Sir, to walk in. Will. I'll follow- Vole, vole dans cette
   Cage, &c. Luc. Why, 'tis the Captain, Madam- [Aside to Aria. La Nu.
   Hah- marry- harkye, Sir,- a word, pray. [As he is going out she pulls
   him. Will. Your Servant, Madam, your Servant- Vole, vole, &c. [Puts
   his Hat off carelesly, and walks by, going out. Luc. And to be
   marry'd, mark that. Aria. Then there's one doubt over, I'm glad he is
   not married. La Nu. Come back- Death, I shall burst with Anger- this
   Coldness blows my Flame, which if once visible, makes him a Tyrant-
   Will. Fool, what's a Clock, fool? this noise hinders me from hearing
   it strike. [Shakes his Pockets, and walks up and down. La Nu. A
   blessed sound, if no Hue and Cry pursue it. -what- you are resolv'd
   then upon this notable Exploit? Will. What Exploit, good Madam? La Nu.
   Why, marrying of a Monster, and an ugly Monster. Will. Yes faith,
   Child, here stands the bold Knight, that singly, and unarm'd, designs
   to enter the List with Thogogandiga the Giant; a good Sword will
   defend a worse cause than an ugly Wife. I know no danger worse than
   fighting for my Living, and I have don't this dozen years for Bread.
   La Nu. This is the common trick of all Rogues, when they have done an
   ill thing to face it out. Will. An ill thing- your Pardon,
   Sweet-heart, compare it but to Banishment, a frozen Sentry with brown
   George and Spanish Pay; and if it be not better to be Master of a
   Monster, than Slave to a damn'd Commonwealth- I submit- and since my
   Fortune has thrown this good in my way- La Nu. You'll not be so
   ungrateful to refuse it; besides then you may hope to sleep again,
   without dreaming of Famine, or the Sword, two Plagues a Soldier of
   Fortune is subject to. Will. Besides Cashiering, a third Plague. La
   Nu. Still unconcern'd!- you call me mercenary, but I would starve e'er
   suffer my self to be possest by a thing of Horror. Will. You lye, you
   would by any thing of Horror: yet these things of Horror have Beauties
   too, Beauties thou canst not boast of, Beauties that will not fade;
   Diamonds to supply the lustre of their Eyes, and Gold the brightness
   of their Hair, a well-got Million to atone for Shape, and Orient
   Pearls, more white, more plump and smooth, than that fair Body Men so
   languish for, and thou hast set such Price on. Aria. I like not this
   so well, 'tis a trick to make her jealous. Will. Their Hands too have
   their Beauties, whose very mark finds credit and respect, their Bills
   are current o'er the Universe; besides these, you shall see waiting at
   my Door, four Footmen, a Velvet Coach, with Six Flanders Beauties
   more: And are not these most comely Virtues in a Soldier's Wife, in
   this most wicked peaceable Age? Luc. He's poor too, there's another
   comfort. [Aside. Aria. The most incouraging one I have met with yet.
   Will. Pox on't, I grow weary of this virtuous Poverty. There goes a
   gallant Fellow, says one, but gives him not an Onion; the Women too,
   faith, 'tis a handsom Gentleman, but the Devil a Kiss he gets gratis.
   Aria. Oh, how I long to undeceive him of that Error. La Nu. He speaks
   not of me; sure he knows me not. [Aside. Will. No, Child, Money speaks
   sense in a Language all Nations understand, 'tis Beauty, Wit, Courage,
   Honour, and undisputable Reason- see the virtue of a Wager, that new
   philosophical way lately found out of deciding all hard Questions-
   Socrates, without ready Money to lay down, must yield. Aria. Well, I
   must have this gallant Fellow. [Aside. La. Nu. Sure he has forgot this
   trival thing. Will. -Even thou- who seest me dying unregarded, wou'd
   then be fond and kind, and flatter me. [Soft tone. By Heaven, I'll
   hate thee then; nay, I will marry to be rich to hate thee: the worst
   of that, is but to suffer nine Days Wonderment. Is not that better
   than an Age of Scorn from a proud faithless Beauty? Lu. Nu. Oh,
   there's Resentment left- why, yes faith, such a Wedding would give the
   Town diversion: we should have a lamentable Ditty made on it, it,
   entitled, The Captain's Wedding, with the doleful Relation of his
   being over-laid by an o'er-grown Monster. Will. I'll warrant ye I
   escape that as sure as cuckolding; for I would fain see that hardy
   Wight that dares attempt my Lady Bright, either by Force or Flattery.
   La Nu. So, then you intend to bed her? Will. Yes faith, and beget a
   Race of Heroes, the Mother's Form with all the Father's Qualities. La
   Nu. Faith, such a Brood may prove a pretty Livelihood for a poor
   decay'd Officer; you may chance to get a Patent to shew 'em in
   England, that Nation of Change and Novelty. Will. A provision old
   Carlo cannot make for you against the abandon'd day. La Nu. He can
   supply the want of Issue a better way; and tho he be not so fine a
   fellow as your self, he's a better Friend, he can keep a Mistress:
   give me a Man can feed and clothe me, as well as hug and all to bekiss
   me, and tho his Sword be not so good as yours, his Bond's worth a
   thousand Captains. This will not do, I'll try what Jealousy will do.
   [Aside. Your Servant, Captain- your Hand, Sir. [Takes Ariadne by the
   Hand. Will. Hah, what new Coxcomb's that- hold, Sir- [Takes her from
   him. Aria. What would you, Sir, ought with this Lady? Will. Yes, that
   which thy Youth will only let thee guess at- this- Child, is Man's
   Meat; there are other Toys for Children. [Offers to lead her off. La
   Nu. Oh insolent! and whither would'st thou lead me? Will. Only out of
   harm's way, Child, here are pretty near Conveniences within: the
   Doctor will be civil- 'tis part of his Calling- Your Servant, Sir-
   [Going off with her. Aria. I must huff now, tho I may chance to be
   beaten- come back- or I have something here that will oblige ye to't.
   [Laying his hand on his Sword. Will. Yes faith, thou'rt a pretty
   Youth; but at this time I've more occasion for a thing in Petticoats-
   go home, and do not walk the Streets so much; that tempting Face of
   thine will debauch the grave men of business, and make the Magistrates
   lust after Wickedness. Aria. You are a scurvy Fellow, Sir. [Going to
   draw. Will. Keep in your Sword, for fear it cut your Fingers, Child.
   Aria. So 'twill your Throat, Sir- here's Company coming that will part
   us, and I'll venture to draw. [Draws, Will. draws. Enter Beaumond.
   Beau. Hold, hold- hah, Willmore! thou Man of constant mischief, what's
   the matter? La Nu. Beaumond! undone! Aria. -Beaumond!- Will. Why,
   here's a young Spark will take my Lady Bright from me; the unmanner'd
   Hot-spur would not have patience till I had finish'd my small Affair
   with her. [Puts up his Sword. Aria. Death, he'll know me- Sir, you see
   we are prevented. [Draws him aside. -or- [Seems to talk to him, Beau.
   gazes on La Nuche, who has pull'd down her Veil. Beau. 'Tis she!
   Madam, this Veil's too thin to hide the perjur'd Beauty underneath.
   Oh, have I been searching thee, with all the diligence of impatient
   Love, and am I thus rewarded, to find thee here incompass'd round with
   Strangers, fighting, who first should take my right away?- Gods! take
   your Reason back, take all your Love; for easy Man's unworthy of the
   Blessings. Will. Harkye, Harry- the- Woman- the almighty Whore- thou
   told'st me of to day. Beau. Death, do'st thou mock my Grief- unhand me
   strait, for tho I cannot blame thee, I must hate thee. [Goes out.
   Will. What the Devil ails he? Aria. You will be sure to come. Will. At
   night in the Piazza; I have an Assignation with a Woman, that once
   dispatch'd, I will not fail ye, Sir. Luc. And will you leave him with
   her? Aria. Oh, yes, he'll be ne'er the worse for my use when he has
   done with her. [Ex. Luc. and Aria. Will. looks with scorn on La Nuche.
   Will. Now you may go o'ertake him, lie with him- and ruin him: the
   Fool was made for such a Destiny- if he escapes my Sword. [He offers
   to go. La Nu. I must prevent his visit to this Woman- but dare not
   tell him so. [Aside. -I would not have ye meet this angry Youth. Will.
   Oh, you would preserve him for a farther use. La Nu. Stay- you must
   not fight- by Heaven, I cannot see- that Bosom- wounded. [Turns and
   weeps. Will. Hah! weep'st thou? curse me when I refuse a faith to that
   obliging Language of thy Eyes- Oh give me one proof more, and after
   that, thou conquerest all my Soul; Thy Eyes speak Love- come, let us
   in, my Dear, e'er the bright Fire allays that warms my Heart. [Goes to
   lead her out. La Nu. Your Love grows rude, and saucily demands it.
   [Flings away. Will. Love knows no Ceremony, no respect when once
   approacht so near the happy minute. La Nu. What desperate easiness
   have you seen in me, or what mistaken merit in your self, should make
   you so ridiculously vain, to think I'd give my self to such a Wretch,
   one fal'n even to the last degree of Poverty, whilst all the World is
   prostrate at my Feet, whence I might chuse the Brave, the Great, the
   Rich? [He stands spitefully gazing at her. -Still as he fires, I find
   my Pride augment, and when he cools I burn. [Aside. Will. Death,
   thou'rt a- vain, conceited, taudry Jilt, who wou'st draw me in as
   Rooks their Cullies do, to make me venture all my stock of Love, and
   then you turn me out despis'd and poor- [Offers to go. La Nu. You
   think you're gone now- Will. Not all thy Arts nor Charms shall hold me
   longer. La Nu. I must submit- and can you part thus from me?- [Pulls
   him. Will. I can- nay, by Heaven, I will not turn, nor look at thee.
   No, when I do, or trust that faithless Tongue again- may I be- La Nu.
   Oh do not swear- Will. Ever curst- [Breaks from her, she holds him. La
   Nu. You shall not go- Plague of this needles Pride. [Aside. -stay- and
   I'll follow all the dictates of my Love. Will. Oh never hope to
   flatter me to faith again. [His back to her, she holding him. La Nu. I
   must, I will; what wou'd you have me do? Will. [turning softly to
   her.] Never- deceive me more, it may be fatal to wind me up to an
   impatient height, then dash my eager Hopes. [Sighing. Forgive my
   roughness- and be kind, La Nuche, I know thou wo't- La Nu. Will you
   then be ever kind and true? Will. Ask thy own Charms, and to confirm
   thee more, yield and disarm me quite. La Nu. Will you not marry then?
   for tho you never can be mine that way, I cannot think that you should
   be another's. Will. No more delays, by Heaven, 'twas but a trick. La
   Nu. And will you never see that Woman neither, whom you're this Night
   to visit? Will. Damn all the rest of thy weak Sex, when thou look'st
   thus, and art so soft and charming. [Offers to lead her out. La Nu.
   Sancho- my Coach. [Turns in scorn. Will. Take heed, what mean ye? La
   Nu. Not to be pointed at by all the envying Women of the Town, who'l
   laugh and cry, Is this the high-priz'd Lady, now fall'n so low, to
   doat upon a Captain? a poor disbanded Captain? defend me from that
   Infamy. Will. Now all the Plagues- but yet I will not curse thee, 'tis
   lost on thee, for thou art destin'd damn'd. [Going out. La Nu. Whither
   so fast? Will. Why,- I am so indifferent grown, that I can tell thee
   now- to a Woman, young, fair and honest; she'll be kind and thankful-
   farewel, Jilt- now should'st thou die for one sight more of me, thou
   should'st not ha't; nay, should'st thou sacrifice all thou hast
   couzen'd other Coxcombs of, to buy one single visit, I am so proud, by
   Heaven, thou shouldst not have it- To grieve thee more, see here,
   insatiate Woman [Shews her a Purse or hands full of Gold] the Charm
   that makes me lovely in thine Eyes: it had all been thine hadst thou
   not basely bargain'd with me, now 'tis the Prize of some well-meaning
   Whore, whose Modesty will trust my Generosity. [Goes out. La Nu. Now I
   cou'd rave, t'have lost an opportunity which industry nor chance can
   give again- when on the yielding point, a cursed fit of Pride comes
   cross my Soul, and stops the kind Career- I'll follow him, yes I'll
   follow him, even to the Arms of her to whom he's gone. Aur. Madam, tis
   dark, and we may meet with Insolence. La Nu. No matter: Sancho, let
   the Coach go home, and do you follow me- Women may boast their Honour
   and their Pride, But Love soon lays those feebler Powr's aside.
   [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I. The Street, or Backside of the Piazza dark.
   Enter Willmore alone. Will. A Pox upon this Woman that has jilted me,
   and I for being a fond believing Puppy to be in earnest with so great
   a Devil. Where be these Coxcombs too? this Blunt and Fetherfool? when
   a Man needs 'em not, they are plaguing him with their unseasonable
   Jests- could I but light on them, I would be very drunk to night- but
   first I'll try my Fortune with this Woman- let me see- hereabouts is
   the Door. [Gropes about for the Door. Enter Beaumond, follow'd by La
   Nuche, and Sancho. La Nu. 'Tis he, I know it by his often and uneasy
   pauses- Beau. And shall I home and sleep upon my injury, whilst this
   more happy Rover takes my right away?- no, damn me then for a cold
   senseless Coward. [Pauses and pulls out a Key. Will. This Damsel, by
   the part o'th' Town she lives in, shou'd be of Quality, and therefore
   can have no dishonest design on me, it must be right down substantial
   Love, that's certain. Beau. Yet I'll in and arm my self for the
   Encounter, for 'twill be rough between us, tho we're Friends. [Groping
   about, finds the Door. Will. Oh, 'tis this I'm sure, because the Door
   is open. Beau. Hah- who's there?- [Beau. advances to unlock the Door,
   runs against Will. draws. Will. That Voice is of Authority, some
   Husband, Lover, or a Brother, on my Life- this is a Nation of a word
   and a blow, therefore I'll betake me to Toledo- [Draws. [Willmore in
   drawing hits his Sword against that of Beaumond, who turns and fights,
   La Nuche runs into the Garden frighted. Beau. Hah, are you there?
   Sanc. I'll draw in defence of the Captain- [Sancho fights for Beau.
   and beats out Will. Will. Hah, two to one? [Turns and goes in. Beau.
   The Garden Door clapt to; sure he's got in; nay, then I have him sure.
   The Scene changes to a Garden, La Nuche in it; to her Beau. who takes
   hold of her sleeve. La Nu. Heavens, where am I? Beau. Hah-a Woman! and
   by these Jewels- should be Ariadne. [feels.]'Tis so! Death, are all
   Women false? [She struggles to get away, he holds her. -Oh, tis in
   vain thou fly'st, thy Infamy will stay behind thee still. La Nu. Hah,
   'tis Beaumond's Voice!- Now for an Art to turn the trick upon him; I
   must not lose his Friendship. [Aside. Enter Willmore softly, peeping
   behind. Will. What a Devil have we here, more Mischief yet;- hah- my
   Woman with a Man- I shall spoil all- I ever had an excellent knack of
   doing so. Beau. Oh Modesty, where art thou? Is this the effect of all
   your put on Jealousy, that Mask to hide your own new falshood in?
   New!- by Heaven, I believe thou'rt old in cunning, that couldst
   contrive, so near thy Wedding-night, this, to deprive me of the Rites
   of Love. La Nu. Hah, what says he? [Aside. Will. How, a Maid, and
   young, and to be marry'd too! a rare Wench this to contrive Matters so
   conveniently: Oh, for some Mischief now to send him neatly off.
   [Aside. Beau. Now you are silent; but you could talk to day loudly of
   Virtue, and upbraid my Vice: oh how you hated a young keeping Husband,
   whom neither Beauty nor Honour in a Wife cou'd oblige to reason- oh,
   damn your Honour, 'tis that's the sly pretence of all your domineering
   insolent Wives- Death- what thou see in me, should make thee think
   that I would be a tame contented Cuckold? [Going, she holds him. La
   Nu. I must not lose this lavish loving Fool- [Aside. Will. So, I hope
   he will be civil and withdraw, and leave me in possession- Beau. No,
   tho my Fortune should depend on thee; nay, all my hope of future
   happiness- by Heaven, I scorn to marry thee, unless thou couldst
   convince me thou wer't honest- a Whore!- Death, how it cools my Blood-
   Will. And fires mine extremely- La Nu. Nay, then I am provok'd tho I
   spoil all- [Aside. And is a Whore a thing so much despis'd? Turn back,
   thou false forsworn- turn back, and blush at thy mistaken folly. [He
   stands amaz'd. Beau. La Nuche! Enter Aria. peeping, advancing
   cautiously undrest, Luc. following. Aria. Oh, he is here- Lucia,
   attend me in the Orange-grove- [Ex. Lucia. Hah, a Woman with him!
   Will. Hum- what have we here? another Damsel?- she's gay too, and
   seems young and handsom- sure one of these will fall to my share; no
   matter which, so I am sure of one. La Nu. Who's silent now? are you
   struck dumb with Guilt? thou shame to noble Love; thou scandal to all
   brave Debauchery, thou Fop of Fortune; thou slavish Heir to Estate and
   Wife, born rich and damn'd to Matrimony. Will. Egad, a noble Wench- I
   am divided yet. La Nu. Thou formal Ass disguis'd in generous Leudness,
   see- when the Vizor's off, how sneakingly that empty form appears- Nay
   'tis thy own- Make much on't, marry with it, and be damn'd. [Offers to
   go. Will. I hope she'll beat him for suspecting her. [He holds her,
   she turns. Aria. Hah- who the Devil can these be? La Nu. What silly
   honest Fool did you mistake me for? what senseless modest thing?
   Death, am I grown so despicable? have I deserv'd no better from thy
   Love than to be taken for a virtuous Changeling? Will. Egad, 'twas an
   Affront. [Aside. La Nu. I'm glad I've found thee out to be an errant
   Coxcomb, one that esteems a Woman for being chaste forsooth! 'Sheart,
   I shall have thee call me pious shortly, a most- religious Matron!
   Will. Egad, she has reason- [aside. Beau. Forgive me- for I took ye-
   for another. [Sighing. La Nu. Oh did you so? it seems you keep fine
   Company the while- Death, that I should e'er be seen with such a vile
   Dissembler, with one so vain, so dull and so impertinent, as can be
   entertain'd by honest Women! Will. A Heavenly Soul, and to my Wish,
   were I but sure of her. Beau. Oh you do wondrous well t'accuse me
   first! yes, I am a Coxcomb- a confounded one, to doat upon so false a
   Prostitute; nay to love seriously, and tell it too: yet such an
   amorous Coxcomb I was born, to hate the Enjoyment of the loveliest
   Woman, without I have the Heart: the fond soft Prattle, and the
   lolling Dalliance, the Frowns, the little Quarrels, and the kind
   Degrees of making Peace again, are Joys which I prefer to all the
   sensual, whilst I endeavour to forget the Whore, and pay my Vows to
   Wit, to Youth and Beauty. Aria. Now hang me, if it be not Beaumond.
   Beau. Would any Devil less than common Woman have serv'd me as thou
   didst? say, was not this my Night? my paid for Night? my own by right
   of Bargain, and by Love? and hast not thou deceiv'd me for a Stranger?
   Will. So- make me thankful, then she will be kind. [Hugs himself.
   Beau. -Was this done like a Whore of Honour think ye? and would not
   such an Injury make me forswear all Joys of Womankind, and marry in
   mere spite? La Nu. Why where had been the Crime had I been kind? Beau.
   Thou dost confess it then. La Nu. Why not? Beau. Those Bills of Love
   the oftner paid and drawn, make Women better Merchants than Lovers. La
   Nu. And 'tis the better Trade. Will. Oh Pox, there she dasht all
   again. I find they calm upon't, and will agree, therefore I'll bear up
   to this small Frigate and lay her aboard. [Goes to Ariadne. La Nu.
   However I'm glad the Vizor's off; you might have fool'd me on, and
   sworn I was the only Conqueror of your Heart, had not Good-nature made
   me follow you, to undeceive your false Suspicions of me: How have you
   sworn never to marry? how rail'd at Wives, and satir'd Fools oblig'd
   to Wedlock? And now at last, to thy eternal Shame, thou hast betray'd
   thy self to be a most pernicious honourable Lover, a perjur'd- honest-
   nay, a very Husband. [Turns away, he holds her. Aria. Hah, sure 'tis
   the Captain. Will. Prithee, Child, let's leave 'em to themselves,
   they'l agree matters I'll warrant them when they are alone; and let us
   try how Love and Good-nature will provide for us. Aria. Sure he cannot
   know me?- Us!- pray who are you, and who am I? Will. Why look ye,
   Child, I am a very honest civil Fellow, for my part, and thou'rt a
   Woman for thine; and I desire to know no more at present. Aria. 'Tis
   he, and knows not me to be the same he appointed to day- Sir, pursue
   that Path on your right Hand, that Grove of Orange- Trees, and I'll
   follow you immediately. Will. Kind and civil- prithee make haste, dear
   Child. [Exit. Will. Beau. And did you come to call me back again?
   [Lovingly. La Nu. No matter, you are to be marry'd, Sir- Beau. No
   more, 'tis true, to please my Uncle, I have talk'd of some such thing;
   but I'll pursue it no farther, so thou wilt yet be mine, and mine
   intirely- I hate this Ariadne- for a Wife- by Heaven I do. Aria. A
   very plain Confession. [Claps him on the back. Beau. Ariadne! La Nu.
   I'm glad of this, now I shall be rid of him. [Aside. -How is't, Sir? I
   see you struggle hard 'twixt Love and Honour, and I'll resign my
   Place- [Offers to go, Ariadne pulls her back. Aria. Hold, if she take
   him not away, I shall disappoint my Man- faith, I'll not be out-done
   in Generosity. [Gives him to La Nuche. Here- Love deserves him best-
   and I resign him- Pox on't I'm honest, tho that's no fault of mine;
   'twas Fortune who has made a worse Exchange, and you and I should suit
   most damnably together. [To Beau. Beau. I am sure there's something in
   the Wind, she being in the Garden, and the Door left open. [Aside.
   -Yes, I believe you are willing enough to part with me, when you
   expect another you like better. Aria. I'm glad I was before-hand with
   you then. Beau. Very good, and the Door was left open to give
   admittance to a Lover. Aria. 'Tis visible it was to let one in to you,
   false as you are. La Nu. Faith, Madam, you mistake my Constitution, my
   Beauty and my Business is only to be belov'd not to love; I leave that
   Slavery for you Women of Quality, who must invite, or die without the
   Blessing; for likely the Fool you make choice of wants Wit or
   Confidence to ask first; you are fain to whistle before the Dogs will
   fetch and carry, and then too they approach by stealth: and having
   done the Drudgery, the submissive Curs are turn'd out for fear of
   dirtying your Apartment, or that the Mungrils should scandalize ye;
   whilst all my Lovers of the noble kind throng to adore and fill my
   Presence daily, gay as if each were triumphing for Victory. Aria. Ay
   this is something; what a poor sneaking thing an honest Woman is! La
   Nu. And if we chance to love still, there's a difference, your Hours
   of Love are like the Deeds of Darkness, and mine like cheerful Birds
   in open Day. Aria. You may, you have no Honour to lose. La Nu. Or if I
   had, why should I double the Sin by Hypocrisy? [Lucia squeaks within,
   crying, help, help. Aria. Heavens, that's Lucia's Voice. Beau. Hah,
   more caterwauling? Enter Lucia in haste. Luc. Oh, Madam, we're undone;
   and, Sir, for Heaven's sake do you retire. Beau. What's the matter?
   Luc. Oh you have brought the most villainous mad Friend with you- he
   found me sitting on a Bank- and did so ruffle me. Aria. Death, she
   takes Beaumond for the Stranger, and will ruin me. Luc. Nay, made love
   so loud, that my Lord your Father-in-law, who was in his Cabinet,
   heard us from the Orange-Grove, and has sent to search the Garden- and
   should he find a Stranger with you- do but you retire, Sir, and all's
   well yet. [To Beaumond. Aria. The Devil's in her Tongue. [Aside. Luc.
   For if Mr. Beaumond be in the House, we shall have the Devil to do
   with his Jealousy. Aria. So, there 'tis out. Beau. She takes me for
   another- I am jilted every where- what Friend?- I brought none with
   me. -Madam, do you retire- [To La Nuche. La Nu. Glad of my Freedom
   too- [Goes out. [A clashing of Swords within. Enter Willm. fighting,
   prest back by three or four Men, and Abevile, Aria. and Luc. run out.
   Beau. Hah, set on by odds; hold, tho thou be'st my Rival, I will free
   thee, on condition thou wilt meet me to morrow morning in the Piazza
   by day break. [Puts himself between their Swords, and speaks to Will.
   aside. Will. By Heaven I'll do it. Beau. Retire in safety then, you
   have your pass. Abev. Fall on, fall on, the number is increas'd. [Fall
   on Beau. Beau. Rascals, do you not know me? [Falls in with 'em and
   heats them back, and goes out with them. Will. Nay, and you be so well
   acquainted, I'll leave you- unfortunate still I am; my own well
   meaning, but ill Management, is my eternal Foe: Plague on 'em, they
   have wounded me- yet not one drop of Blood's departed from me that
   warm'd my Heart for Woman, and I'm not willing to quit this
   Fairy-ground till some kind Devil have been civil to me. Enter Ariadne
   and Lucia. Aria. I say, 'tis he: thou'st made so many dull Mistakes to
   Night, thou darest not trust thy Senses when they're true- How do you,
   Sir? Will. That Voice has Comfort in't, for 'tis a Woman's: hah, more
   Interruption? Aria. A little this way, Sir. [Ex. Aria. and Will. into
   the Garden. Enter Beaumond, Abevile in a submissive Posture. Beau. No
   more excuses- By all these Circumstances, I know this Ariadne is a
   Gipsy. What difference then between a money-taking Mistress and her
   that gives her Love? only perhaps this sins the closer by't, and talks
   of Honour more: What Fool wou'd be a Slave to empty Name, or value
   Woman for dissembling well? I'll to La Nuche- the honester o'th' two-
   Abevile- get me my Musick ready, and attend me at La Nuche's. [Ex.
   severally. Luc. He's gone, and to his Mistress too. Enter Ariadne
   pursu'd by Willmore. Will. My little Daphne, 'tis in vain to fly,
   unless like her, you cou'd be chang'd into a Tree: Apollo's self
   pursu'd not with more eager Fire than I. [Holds her. Aria. Will you
   not grant a Parly e'er I yield? Will. I'm better at a Storm. Aria.
   Besides, you're wounded too. Will. Oh leave those Wounds of Honour to
   my Surgeon, thy Business is to cure those of Love. Your true bred
   Soldier ever fights with the more heat for a Wound or two. Aria.
   Hardly in Venus' Wars. Will. Her self ne'er thought so when she
   snatcht her Joys between the rough Encounters of the God of War. Come,
   let's pursue the Business we came for: See the kind Night invites, and
   all the ruffling Winds are husht and still, only the Zephirs spread
   their tender Wings, courting in gentle Murmurs the gay Boughs; 'twas
   in a Night like this, Diana taught the Mysteries of Love to the fair
   Boy Endymion. I am plaguy full of History and Simile tonight. Aria.
   You see how well he far'd for being modest. Will. He might be modest,
   but 'twas not over-civil to put her Goddessship to asking first; thou
   seest I'm better bred- Come let's haste to silent Grots that attend
   us, dark Groves where none can see, and murmuring Fountains. Aria.
   Stay, let me consider first, you are a Stranger, inconstant too as
   Island Winds, and every day are fighting for your Mistresses, of which
   you've had at least four since I saw you first, which is not a whole
   day. Will. I grant ye, before I was a Lover I ran at random, but I'll
   take up now, be a patient Man, and keep to one Woman a Month. Aria. A
   Month! Will. And a fair Reason, Child; time was, I wou'd have worn one
   Shirt, or one pair of Shoos so long as have let the Sun set twice upon
   the same Sin: but see the Power of Love; thou hast bewitched me,
   that's certain. Aria. Have a care of giving me the ascendent over ye,
   for fear I make ye marry me. Will. Hold, I bar that cast, Child; no,
   I'm none of those Spirits that can be conjur'd into a Wedding-ring,
   and dance in the dull matrimonial Circle all my Days. Aria. But what
   think you of a hundred thousand Crowns, and a Beauty of sixteen? Will.
   As of most admirable Blessings: but harkye, Child, I am plaguily
   afraid thou'rt, some scurvy honest thing of Quality by these odd
   Questions of thine, and hast some wicked Design upon my Body. Aria.
   What, to have and to hold I'll warrant.- No Faith, Sir, Maids of my
   Quality expect better Jointures than a Buff-coat, Scarf and Feather:
   such Portions as mine are better Ornaments in a Family than a Captain
   and his Commission. Will. Why well said, now thou hast explain'd thy
   self like a Woman of Honour- Come, come, let's away. Aria. Explain my
   self! How mean ye? Will. -Thou say'st I am not fit to marry thee- and
   I believe this Assignation was not made to tell me so, nor yet to hear
   me whistle to the Birds. Aria. Faith no. I saw you, lik'd ye, and had
   a mind to ye. Will. Ay, Child- Aria. In short, I took ye for a Man of
   Honour. Will. Nay, if I tell the Devil take me. Aria. I am a Virgin in
   Distress. Will. Poor Heart. Aria. To be marry'd within a Day or two to
   one I like not. Will. Hum- and therefore wouldst dispose of a small
   Virgin Treasure (too good for silly Husbands) in a Friend's Hands:
   faith, Child- I was ever a good religious charitable Christian, and
   shall acquit my self as honestly and piously in this Affair as becomes
   a Gentleman. Enter Abevile with Musick. Abev. Come away, are ye all
   arm'd for the Business? Aria. Hah, arm'd! we are surpriz'd again.
   Will. Fear not. [Draws. Aria. Oh God, Sir, haste away, you are already
   wounded: but I conjure you, as a Man of Honour, be here at the Garden
   Gate to night again, and bring a Friend, in case of Danger, with you;
   and if possible I'll put my self into your Hands, for this Night's
   Work has ruin'd me- [Speaking quick, and pushing him forwards runs
   off. Abev. My Master sure not gone yet- [Peeping advancing. Will.
   Rascals, tho you are odds, you'll find hot Work in vanquishing. [Falls
   on 'em. Abev. Hold, Sir, I am your Page. Do you not know me? and these
   the Musick you commanded- shall I carry em where you order'd, Sir?
   Will. They take me for some other, this was lucky. [Aside. O, aye-
   'tis well- I'll follow- but whither?- Plague of my dull Mistakes, the
   Woman's gone- yet stay- [Calls 'em. For now I think on't, this Mistake
   may help me to another- stay- I must dispose of this mad Fire about
   me, which all these Disappointments cannot lay- Oh for some young kind
   Sinner in the nick- How I cou'd souse upon her like a Bird of Prey,
   and worry her with Kindness. [Aside.- Go on, I follow. [Exeunt. Scene
   changes to La Nuche's House. Enter Petronella and Aurelia with Light.
   Aur. Well, the Stranger is in Bed, and most impatiently expects our
   Patrona, who is not yet returned. Pet. Curse of this Love! I know
   she's in pursuit of this Rover, this English Piece of Impudence; Pox
   on 'em, I know nothing good in the whole Race of 'em, but giving all
   to their Shirts when they're drunk. What shall we do, Aurelia? This
   Stranger must not be put off, nor Carlo neither, who has fin'd again
   as if for a new Maidenhead. Aur. You are so covetous, you might have
   put 'em off, but now 'tis too late. Pet. Put off! Are these Fools to
   be put off think ye? a fine Fop Englishman, and an old doating
   Grandee?- No, I cou'd put the old trick on 'em still, had she been
   here but to have entertain'd 'em: but hark, one knocks, 'tis Carlo on
   my Life- Enter Carlo, gives Petronella Gold. Car. Let this plead for
   me. Pet. Sweet Don, you are the most eloquent Person. Car. I would
   regale to night- I know it is not mine, but I've sent five hundred
   Crowns to purchase it, because I saw another bargaining for't; and
   Persons of my Quality must not be refus'd: you apprehend me. Pet. Most
   rightly- that was the Reason then she came so out of Humour home- and
   is gone to Bed in such a sullen Fit. Car. To Bed, and all alone! I
   would surprize her there. Oh how it pleases me to think of stealing
   into her Arms like a fine Dream, Wench, hah. Aur. 'Twill be a pleasant
   one, no doubt. Pet. He lays the way out how he'll be cozen'd. [Aside.
   -The Seigniora perhaps may be angry, Sir, but I'll venture that to
   accommodate you; and that you may surprize her the more readily, be
   pleased to stay in my Chamber, till you think she may be asleep. Car.
   Thou art a perfect Mistress of thy Trade. Pet. So, now will I to the
   Seigniora's Bed my self, drest and perfum'd, and finish two good Works
   at once; earn five hundred Crowns, and keep up the Honour of the
   House. [Aside.]- Softly, sweet Don. [Lights him out. Aur. And I will
   do two more good things, and disappoint your Expectations; jilt the
   young English Fool, and have old Carlo well bang'd, if t'other have
   any Courage. Enter La Nuche in Rage, and Sancho. La Nu. Aurelia, help,
   help me to be reveng'd upon this wretched unconsidering Heart. Aur.
   Heavens, have you made the Rover happy, Madam? La Nu. Oh wou'd I had!
   or that or any Sin wou'd change this Rage into some easier Passion:
   Sickness and Poverty, Disgrace and Pity, all met iii one, were kinder
   than this Love, this raging Fire of a proud amorous Heart. Enter
   Petronella. Pet. Heavens, what's the matter? Aur. Here's Petronella,
   dissemble but your Rage a little. La Nu. Damn all dissembling now, it
   is too late- The Tyrant Love reigns absolute within, And I am lost,
   Aurelia. Pet. How, Love! forbid it Heaven! will Love maintain ye? La
   Nu. Curse on your Maxims, will they ease my Heart? Can your wise
   Counsel fetch me back my Rover? Pet. Hah, your Rover, a Pox upon him.
   La Nu. He's gone- gone to the Arms of some gay generous Maid, who
   nobly follows Love's diviner Dictates, whilst I 'gainst Nature
   studying thy dull Precepts, and to be base and infamously rich, have
   barter'd all the Joys of human Life- Oh give me Love: I will be poor
   and love. Pet. She's lost- but hear me- La Nu. I won't, from Childhood
   thou hast trained me up in Cunning, read Lectures to me of the use of
   Man, but kept me from the knowledge of the Right; taught me to jilt,
   to flatter and deceive: and hard it was to learn th' ungrateful
   Lessons. But oh how soon plain Nature taught me Love, and shew'd me
   all the cheat of thy false Tenents- No- give me Love with any other
   Curse. Pet. But who will give you that when you are poor? when you are
   wretchedly despis'd and poor? La Nu. Hah! Pet. Do you not daily see
   fine Clothes, rich Furniture, Jewels and Plate are more inviting than
   Beauty unadorn'd? be old, diseas'd, deform'd, be any thing, so you be
   rich and splendidly attended, you'll find your self lov'd and ador'd
   by all- But I'm an old fool still- Well, Petronella, had'st thou been
   half as industrious in thy Youth as in thy Age- thou hadst not come to
   this. [Weeps. La Nu. She's in the right. Pet. What can this mad poor
   Captain do for you, love you whilst you can buy him Breeches, and then
   leave you? A Woman has a sweet time on't with any Soldier-Lover of 'em
   all, with their Iron Minds, and Buff Hearts; feather'd Inamorato's
   have nothing that belongs to Love but his Wings, the Devil clip 'em
   for Petronella. La Nu. True- he can ne'er be constant. [Pausing. Pet.
   Heaven forbid he should! No, if you are so unhappy as that you must
   have him, give him a Night or two and pay him for't, and send him to
   feed again: But for your Heart, 'Sdeath, I would as soon part with my
   Beauty, or Youth, and as necessary a Tool 'tis for your Trade- A
   Curtezan and love! but all my Counsel's thrown away upon ye. [Weeps.
   La Nu. No more, I will be rul'd- I will be wise, be rich; and since I
   must yield somewhere, and some time, Beaumond shall be the Man, and
   this the Night; he's handsom, young, and lavishly profuse: This Night
   he comes, and I'll submit to Interest. Let the gilded Apartment be
   made ready, and strew it o'er with Flowers, adorn my Bed of State; let
   all be fine; perfume my Chamber like the Phoenix's Nest, I'll be
   luxurious in my Pride to Night, and make the amorous prodigal Youth my
   Slave. Pet. Nobly resolv'd! and for these other two who wait your
   coming, let me alone to manage. [Goes out. Scene changes to a Chamber,
   discovers Fetherfool in Bed. Feth. This Gentlewoman is plaguy long in
   coming:- some Nicety now, some perfum'd Smock, or Point Night-Clothes
   to make her more lovely in my Eyes: Well, these Women are right City
   Cooks, they stay so long to garnish the Dish, till the Meat be cold-
   but hark, the Door opens. Enter Carlo softly, half undrest. Car. This
   Wench stays long, and Love's impatient; this is the Chamber of La
   Nuche, I take it: If she be awake, I'll let her know who I am; if not,
   I'll steal a Joy before she thinks of it. Feth. Sure 'tis she, pretty
   modest Rogue, she comes i'th' dark to hide her Blushes- hum, I'm
   plaguy eloquent o'th' sudden- who's there? [Whispering. Car. 'Tis I,
   my Love. Feth. Hah, sweet Soul, make haste.- There 'twas again. Car.
   So kind, sure she takes me for some other, or has some inkling of my
   Design- [To himself. Where are you, Sweetest? Feth. Here, my Love,
   give me your Hand- [Puts out his Hand; Carlo kneels and kisses it.
   Car. Here let me worship the fair Shrine before I dare approach so
   fair a Saint. [Kisses the Hand. Feth. Hah, what a Pox have we here?-
   wou'd I were well out o' t'other side- perhaps 'tis her Husband, and
   then I'm a dead Man, if I'm discover'd. [Removes to t'other side,
   Carlo holds his Hand. Car. Nay, do not fly- I know you took me for
   some happier Person. [Feth. struggles, Car. rises and takes him in his
   Arms, and kisses him. Feth. What, will you ravish me? [In a shrill
   Voice. Car. Hah, that Voice is not La Nuche's- Lights there, Lights.
   Feth. Nay, I can hold a bearded Venus, Sir, as well as any Man. [Holds
   Carlo. Car. What art thou, Rogue, Villain, Slave? [They fall to Cuffs,
   and fight till they are bloody, fall from the Bed and fight on the
   Floor. Enter Petronella, Sancho, and Aurelia. Pet. Heaven, what noise
   is this?- we are undone, part 'em, Sancho. [They part 'em. Feth. Give
   me my Sword; nay, give me but a Knife, that I may cut yon Fellow's
   Throat- Car. Sirrah, I'm a Grandee, and a Spaniard, and will be
   reveng'd. Feth. And I'm an English-man, and a Justice, and will have
   Law, Sir. Pet. Say 'tis her Husband, or any thing to get him hence.
   [Aside to Sancho, who whispers him. These English, Sir, are Devils,
   and on my Life 'tis unknown to the Seigniora that he's i'th' House.
   [To Carlo aside. Car. Come, I'm abus'd but I must put it up for fear
   of my Honour; a Statesman's Reputation is a tender thing: Convey me
   out the back way. I'll be reveng'd. [Goes out. Feth. (Aurelia whispers
   to him aside.) How, her Husband! Prithee convey me out; my Clothes, my
   Clothes, quickly- Aur. Out, Sir! he has lock'd the Door, and designs
   to have ye murder'd. Feth. Oh, gentle Soul- take pity on me- where, oh
   what shall I do?- my Clothes, my Sword and Money. Aur. Quickly,
   Sancho, tie a Sheet to the Window, and let him slide down by that- Be
   speedy, and we'll throw your Clothes out after ye. Here, follow me to
   the Window. Feth. Oh, any whither, any whither. That I could not be
   warn'd from whoring in a strange Country, by my Friend Ned Blunt's
   Example- if I can but keep it secret now, I care not. [Exeunt. Scene,
   the Street, a Sheet ty'd to the Balcony, and Feth. sitting cross to
   slide down. Feth. So- now your Neck, or your Throat, chuse ye either,
   wise Mr. Nicholas Fetherfool- But stay, I hear Company. Now dare not I
   budg an Inch. Enter Beaumond alone. Beau. Where can this Rascal, my
   Page, be all this while? I waited in the Piazza so long, that I
   believed he had mistook my Order, and gone directly to La Nuche's
   House- but here's no sign of him- Feth. Hah- I hear no noise, I'll
   venture down. [Goes halfway down and stops. Enter Abevile, Harlequin,
   Musick and Willmore. Will. Whither will this Boy conduct me?- but
   since to a Woman, no matter whither 'tis. Feth. Hah, more Company; now
   dare not I stir up nor down, they may be Bravoes to cut my Throat.
   Beau. Oh sure these are they- Will. Come, my Heart, lose no time, but
   tune your Pipes. [Harlequin plays on his Guittar, and sings. Beau.
   How, sure this is some Rival. [Goes near and listens. Will. Harkye,
   Child, hast thou ne'er an amorous Ditty, short and sweet, hah- Abev.
   Shall I not sing that you gave me, Sir? Will. I shall spoil all with
   hard Questions- Ay, Child- that. [Abev. sings, Beau. listens, and
   seems angry the while. SONG. A Pox upon this needless Scorn! Silvia,
   for shame the Cheat give o'er; The end to which the fair are born, Is
   not to keep their Charms in store, But lavishly dispose in haste, Of
   Joys which none but Youth improve; Joys which decay when Beauty's
   past: And who when Beauty's past will love? When Age those Glories
   shall deface, Revenging all your cold Disdain, And Silvia shall
   neglected pass, By every once admiring Swain; And we can only Pity
   pay, When you in vain too late shall burn: If Love increase, and Youth
   delay, Ah, Silvia, who will make return? Then haste, my Silvia, to the
   Grove, Where all the Sweets of May conspire, To teach us every Art of
   Love, And raise our Charms of Pleasure higher; Where, whilst imbracing
   we should lie Loosely in Shades, on Banks of Flowers: The duller World
   whilst we defy, Years will be Minutes, Ages Hours. Beau. 'Sdeath,
   that's my Page's Voice: Who the Devil is't that ploughs with my
   Heifer! Aur. Don Henrick, Don Henrick- [The Door opens, Beau. goes up
   to't; Will. puts him by, and offers to go in, he pulls him back. Will.
   How now, what intruding Slave art thou? Beau. What Thief art thou that
   basely, and by dark, rob'st me of all my Rights? [Strikes him, they
   fight, and Blows light on Fetherfool who hangs down. [Sancho throws
   Fetherfool's Clothes out, Harlequin takes 'em up in confusion; they
   fight out Beaumond, all go off, but Will. gets into the House:
   Harlequin and Feth. remain. Feth. gets down, runs against Harlequin in
   the dark, both seem frighted. Harl. Que questo. Feth. Ay, un pouer
   dead Home, murder'd, kill'd. Harl. (In Italian.) You are the first
   dead Man I ever saw walk. Feth. Hah, Seignior Harlequin! Harl.
   Seignior Nicholas! Feth. A Pox Nicholas ye, I have been mall'd and
   beaten within doors, and hang'd and bastinado'd without doors, lost my
   Clothes, my Money, and all my Moveables; but this is nothing to the
   Secret taking Air. Ah, dear Seignior, convey me to the Mountebanks,
   there I may have Recruit and Cure under one. ACT V. SCENE I. A
   Chamber. La Nuche on a Couch in an Undress, Willmore at her Feet, on
   his Knees, all unbrac'd: his Hat, Sword, &c. on the Table, at which
   she is dressing her Head. Will. Oh Gods! no more! I see a yielding in
   thy charming Eyes; The Blushes on thy Face, thy trembling Arms, Thy
   panting Breast, and short-breath'd Sighs confess, Thou wo't be mine,
   in spite of all thy Art. La Nu. What need you urge my Tongue then to
   repeat What from my Eyes you can so well interpret? [Bowing down her
   Head to him and sighing. -Or if it must- dispose me as you please-
   Will. Heaven, I thank thee! [Rises with Joy. Who wou'd not plough an
   Age in Winter Seas, Or wade full seven long Years in ruder Camps, To
   find out this Rest at last?- [Leans on, and kisses her Bosom. Upon thy
   tender Bosom to repose; To gaze upon thy Eyes, and taste thy Balmy
   Kisses, [Kisses her. -Sweeter than everlasting Groves of Spices, When
   the soft Winds display the opening Buds: -Come, haste, my Soul, to
   Bed- La Nu. You can be soft I find, when you wou'd conquer absolutely.
   Will. Not infant Angels, not young sighing Cupids Can be more; this
   ravishing Joy that thou hast promis'd me, Has form'd my Soul to such a
   Calm of Love, It melts e'en at my Eyes. La Nu. What have I done? that
   Promise will undo me. -This Chamber was prepar'd, and I was drest, To
   give Admittance to another Lover. Will. But Love and Fortune both were
   on my side- Come, come to Bed- consider nought but Love- [They going
   out, one knocks. La Nu. Hark! Beau. (without.) By Heav'n I will have
   entrance. La Nu. 'Tis he whom I expect; as thou lov'st Life And me,
   retire a little into this Closet. Will. Hah, retire! La Nu. He's the
   most fiercely jealous of his Sex, And Disappointment will inrage him
   more. Will. Death: let him rage whoe'er he be; dost think I'll hide me
   from him, and leave thee to his Love? Shall I, pent up, thro the thin
   Wainscot hear Your Sighs, your amorous Words, and sound of Kisses? No,
   if thou canst cozen me, do't, but discreetly, And I shall think thee
   true: I have thee now, and when I tamely part With the, may Cowards
   huff and bully me. [Knocks again. La Nu. And must I be undone because
   I love ye? This is the Mine from whence I fetcht my Gold. Will. Damn
   the base Trash: I'll have thee poor, and mine; 'Tis nobler far, to
   starve with him thou lov'st Than gay without, and pining all within.
   [Knocking, breaking the Door, Will. snatches up his Sword. La Nu.
   Heavens, here will be murder done- he must not see him. [As Beau.
   breaks open the Door, she runs away with the Candle, they are by dark,
   Beau. enters with his Sword drawn. Will. What art thou? Beau. A Man.
   [They fight. Enter Petron. with Light, La Nuche following, Beau. runs
   to her. Oh thou false Woman, falser than thy Smiles, Which serve but
   to delude good-natur'd Man, And when thou hast him fast, betray'st his
   Heart! Will. Beaumond! Beau. Willmore! Is it with thee I must tug for
   Empire? For I lay claim to all this World of Beauty. [Takes La Nuche,
   looking with scorn on Willmore. La Nu. Heavens, how got this Ruffian
   in? Will. Hold, hold, dear Harry, lay no Hands on her till thou can'st
   make thy Claim good. Beau. She's mine, by Bargain mine, and that's
   sufficient. Will. In Law perhaps, it may for ought I know, but 'tis
   not so in Love: but thou'rt my Friend, and I'll therefore give thee
   fair Play- if thou canst win her take her: But a Sword and a Mistress
   are not to be lost, if a Man can keep 'em. Beau. I cannot blame thee,
   thou but acts thy self- But thou fair Hypocrite, to whom I gave my
   Heart, And this exception made of all Mankind, Why would'st thou, as
   in Malice to my Love, Give it the only Wound that cou'd destroy it?
   Will. Nay, if thou didst forbid her loving me, I have her sure. Beau.
   I yield him many Charms; he's nobly born, Has Wit, Youth, Courage, all
   that takes the Heart, And only wants what pleases Women's Vanity,
   Estate, the only good that I can boast: And that I sacrifice to buy
   thy Smiles. La Nu. See, Sir- here's a much fairer Chapman- you may be
   gone- [To Will. Will. Faith, and so there is, Child, for me, I carry
   all about me, and that by Heaven is thine: I'll settle all upon thee,
   but my Sword, and that will buy us Bread. I've two led Horses too, one
   thou shalt manage, and follow me thro Dangers. La Nu. A very hopeful
   comfortable Life; No, I was made for better Exercises. Will. Why,
   every thing in its turn, Child, yet a Man's but a Man. Beau. No more,
   but if thou valuest her, Leave her to Ease and Plenty. Will. Leave her
   to Love, my Dear; one hour of right-down Love, Is worth an Age of
   living dully on: What is't to be adorn'd and shine with Gold, Drest
   like a God, but never know the Pleasure? -No, no, I have much finer
   things in store for thee. [Hugs her. La Nu. What shall I do? Here's
   powerful Interest prostrate at my Feet, [Pointing to Beau. Glory, and
   all than Vanity can boast; -But there- Love unadorn'd, no covering but
   his Wings, [To Will. No Wealth, but a full Quiver to do mischiefs,
   Laughs at those meaner Trifles- Beau. Mute as thou art, are not these
   Minutes mine? But thou- ah false- hast dealt 'em out already, With all
   thy Charms of Love, to this unknown- Silence and guilty Blushes say
   thou hast: He all disorder'd too, loose and undrest, With Love and
   Pleasure dancing in his Eyes, Tell me too plainly how thou hast
   deceiv'd me. La Nu. Or if I have not, 'tis a Trick soon done, And this
   ungrateful Jealousy wou'd put it in my Head. [Angrily. Beau. Wou'd! by
   Heaven, thou hast- he is not to be fool'd, Or sooth'd into belief of
   distant Joys, As easy as I have been: I've lost so kind An
   Opportunity, where Night and Silence both Conspire with Love, had made
   him rage like Waves Blown up by Storms:- no more- I know he has -Oh
   what, La Nuche! robb'd me of all that I Have languish'd for- La Nu. If
   it were so, you should not dare believe it- [Angrily turns away, he
   kneels and holds her. Beau. Forgive me; oh so very well I love, Did I
   not know that thou hadst been a Whore, I'd give thee the last proof of
   Love- and marry thee. Will. The last indeed- for there's an end of
   Loving; Do, marry him, and be curst by all his Family: Marry him, and
   ruin him, that he may curse thee too. -But hark ye, Friend, this is
   not fair; 'tis drawing Sharps on a Man that's only arm'd with the
   defensive Cudgel, I'm for no such dead doing Arguments; if thou art
   for me, Child, it must be without the folly, for better for worse;
   there's a kind of Nonsense in that Vow Fools only swallow. La Nu. But
   when I've worn out all my Youth and Beauty, and suffer'd every ill of
   Poverty, I shall be compell'd to begin the World again without a Stock
   to set up with. No faith, I'm for a substantial Merchant in Love, who
   can repay the loss of Time and Beauty; with whom to make one thriving
   Voyage sets me up for ever, and I need never put to Sea again. [Comes
   to Beau. Beau. Nor be expos'd to Storms of Poverty, the Indies shall
   come to thee- See here- this is the Merchandize my Love affords.
   [Gives her a Pearl, and Pendants of Diamond. La Nu. Look ye, Sir, will
   not these Pearls do better round my Neck, than those kind Arms of
   yours? these Pendants in my Ears, than all the Tales of Love you can
   whisper there? Will. So- I am deceiv'd- deal on for Trash- and barter
   all thy Joys of Life for Baubles- this Night presents me one Adventure
   more- I'll try thee once again, inconstant Fortune; and if thou
   fail'st me then- I will forswear thee [Aside.] Death, hadst thou lov'd
   my Friend for his own Value, I had esteem'd thee; but when his Youth
   and Beauty cou'd not plead, to be the mercenary Conquest of his
   Presents, was poor, below thy Wit: I cou'd have conquer'd so, but I
   scorn thee at that rate- my Purse shall never be my Pimp- Farewel,
   Harry. Beau. Thou'st sham'd me out of Folly- stay- Will. Faith- I have
   an Assignation with a Woman- a Woman Friend! young as the infant-day,
   and sweet as Roses e'er the Morning Sun have kiss'd their Dew away.
   She will not ask me Money neither. La Nu. Hah! stay- [Holds him, and
   looks on him. Beau. She loves him, and her Eyes betray her Heart.
   Will. I am not for your turn, Child- Death I shall lose my Mistress
   fooling here- I must be gone. [She holds him, he shakes his Head and
   sings. No, no, I will not hire your Bed, Nor Tenant to your Favours
   be; I will not farm your White and Red, You shall not let your Love to
   me: I court a Mistress- not a Landlady. [bis. Beau. He's in the right;
   and shall I waste my Youth and powerful Fortune on one who all this
   while has jilted me, seeing I was a lavish loving Fool?- No- this Soul
   and Body shall not be divided- [Gives her to Will. Will. I am so much
   thy Friend, another time I might be drawn to take a bad Bargain off
   thy Hands- but I have other Business at present: wo't do a kind thing,
   Harry,- lend me thy Aid to carry off my Woman to night? 'tis hard by
   in the Piazza, perhaps we may find Resistance. Beau. My self and Sword
   are yours. I have a Chair waits below too, may do you Service. Will. I
   thank ye- Madam- your Servant. La Nu. Left by both! Beau. You see our
   Affairs are pressing. [Bows, and smiles carelesly. Ex. Will. singing,
   and Beau. La Nu. Gone! where's all your Power, ye poor deluded Eyes?
   Curse on your feeble Fires, that cannot warm a Heart which every
   common Beauty kindles. Oh- he is gone for ever. Enter Petronella. Pet.
   Yes, he is gone, to your eternal Ruin: not all the Race of Men cou'd
   have produc'd so bountiful and credulous a Fool. La Nu. No, never;
   fetch him back, my Petronella: Bring me my wild Inconstant, or I die-
   [Puts her out. Pet. The Devil fetch him back for Petronella, is't he
   you mean? you've had too much of him; a Curse upon him, he'as ruin'd
   you. La Nu. He has, he shall, he must compleat my ruin. Pet. She
   raves, the Rogue has given her a Spanish Philtre. La Nu. My Coach, my
   Veil- or let 'em all alone; undrest thus loosely to the Winds commit
   me to darkness, and no Guide but pitying Cupid. [Going out, Pet. holds
   her. Pet. What, are you mad? La Nu. As Winds let loose, or Storms when
   they rage high. [Goes out. Pet. She's lost, and I'll shift for my
   self, seize all her Money and Jewels, of which I have the Keys; and if
   Seignior Mountebank keeps his Word, be transform'd to Youth and Beauty
   again, and undo this La Nuche at her own Trade- [Goes in. SCENE II.
   The Street. Enter Willmore, Beaumond, Chair following. Will. Set down
   the Chair; you're now within call, I'll to the Garden-Door, and see if
   any Lady Bright appear- Dear Beaumond, stay here a minute, and if I
   find occasion, I'll give you the Word. Beau. 'Tis hard by my Lodgings;
   if you want Conveniences, I have the Key of the Back-way through the
   Garden, whither you may carry your Mistress. Will. I thank thee- let
   me first secure my Woman. [Goes out. Beau. I thought I'd lov'd this
   false, this jilting Fair, even above my Friendship; but I find I can
   forgive this Rogue, tho I am sure he has rob'd me of my Joys. Enter
   Ariadne with a Casket of Jewels. Aria. Not yet! a Devil on him, he's
   Dear-hearting it with some other kind Damsel- Faith, 'tis most
   wickedly done of me to venture my Body with a mad unknown Fellow. Thus
   a little more Delay will put me into a serious Consideration, and I
   shall e'en go home again, sleep and be sober. [She walks about. Beau.
   Hah, a Woman! Perhaps the same he looks for- I'll counterfeit his
   Voice and try my Chance- Fortune may set us even. Aria. Hah, is not
   that a Man? Yes- and a Chair waiting. [She peeps. Beau. Who's there?
   Aria. A Maid. Beau. A Miracle- Oh art thou come, Child? Aria. 'Tis he,
   you are a civil Captain, are you not, to make a longing Maid expect
   thus? What Woman has detain'd you? Beau. Faith, my Dear, tho Flesh and
   Blood be frail, yet the dear Hopes of thee has made me hold out with a
   Herculean Courage- Stay, where shall I carry her? not to my own
   Apartment; Ariadne may surprize me: I'll to the Mountebank here i'th'
   Piazza, he has a Cure for all things, even for longing Love, and for a
   Pistole or two will do Reason.- Hah, Company: Here, step into this
   Chair. [She goes in, they go off just as Will. enters. Will. Hum, a
   Woman of Quality and jilt me- Egad, that's strange now- Well, who
   shall a Man trust in this wicked World? Enter La Nuche as before. La
   Nu. This should be he, he saunters about like an expecting Lover.
   [Will. peeping and approaching. Will. By this Light a Woman, if she be
   the right- but right or wrong so she be Feminine: harkye, Child, I
   fancy thee some kind thing that belongs to me. La Nu. Who are you? [In
   a low tone. Will. A wandering Lover that has lost his Heart, and I
   have shreud Guess 'tis in thy dear Bosom, Child. La Nu. Oh you're a
   pretty Lover, a Woman's like to have a sweet time on't, if you're
   always so tedious. Will. By yon bright Star-light, Child, I walk'd
   here in short turns like a Centinel, all this live-long Evening, and
   was just going (Gad forgive me) to kill my self. La Nu. I rather think
   some Beauty has detain'd you: Have you not seen La Nuche? Will. La
   Nuche!- Why, she's a Whore- I hope you take me for a civiller Person,
   than to throw my self away on Whores- No, Child, I lie with none but
   honest Women I: but no disputing now, come- to my Lodging, my dear-
   here's a Chair waits hard by. [Exeunt. SCENE III. Willmore's Lodging.
   Enter Harlequin with Fetherfool's Clothes on his Shoulder, leading him
   halting by one Hand, Blunt (drunk) by the other in the dark;
   Fetherfool bloody, his Coat put over his Shoulders. Feth. Peano,
   Peano, Seignior, gently, good Edward- for I'll not halt before a
   Cripple; I have lost a great part of my agil Faculties. Blunt. Ah, see
   the Inconstancy of fickle Fortune, Nicholas- A Man to day, and beaten
   to morrow: but take comfort, there's many a proper fellow has been
   robb'd and beaten on this Highway of whoring. Feth. Ay, Ned, thou
   speak'st by woful Experience- but that I should miscarry after thy
   wholesom Documents- but we are all mortal, as thou say'st, Ned- Would
   I had never crost the Ferry from Croydon; a few such Nights as these
   wou'd learn a Man Experience enough to be a Wizard, if he have but the
   ill luck to escape hanging. Blunt. 'Dsheartlikins, I wonder in what
   Country our kinder Stars rule: In England plunder'd, sequester'd,
   imprison'd and banish'd; in France, starv'd, walking like the Sign of
   the naked Boy, with Plymouth Cloaks in our Hands; in Italy and Spain
   robb'd, beaten, and thrown out at Windows. Feth. Well, how happy am I,
   in having so true a Friend to condole me in Affliction- [Weeps.] I am
   oblig'd to Seignior Harlequin too, for bringing me hither to the
   Mountebank's, where I shall not only conceal this Catastrophe from
   those fortunate Rogues our Comrades, but procure a little Album
   Graecum for my Backside. Come, Seignior, my Clothes- but, Seignior- un
   Portavera Poco palanea. [Dresses himself. Harl. Seignior. Feth.
   Entende vos Signoria Englesa? Harl. Em Poco, em Poco, Seignior. Feth.
   Per quelq arts, did your Seigniorship escape Cudgeling? Harl. La art
   de transformatio. Feth. Transformatio- Why, wert thou not born a Man?
   Harl. No, Seignior, un vieule Femme. Feth. How, born an old Woman?
   Blunt. Good Lord! born an old Woman! And so by transformation became
   invulnerable. Feth. Ay- in- invulnerable- what would I give to be
   invulnerable? and egad, I am almost weary of being a Man, and subject
   to beating: wou'd I were a Woman, a Man has but an ill time on't: if
   he has a mind to a Wench, the making Love is so plaguy tedious- then
   paying is to my Soul insupportable. But to be a Woman, to be courted
   with Presents, and have both the Pleasure and the Profit- to be
   without a Beard, and sing a fine Treble- and squeak if the Men but
   kiss me- 'twere fine- and what's better, am sure never to be beaten
   again. Blunt. Pox on't, do not use an old Friend so scurvily; consider
   the Misery thou'lt indure to have the Heart and Mind of a jilting
   Whore possess thee: What a Fit of the Devil must he suffer who acts
   her Part from fourteen to fourscore! No, 'tis resolv'd thou remain
   Nicholas Fetherfool still, shalt marry the Monster, and laugh at
   Fortune. Feth. 'Tis true, should I turn Whore to the Disgrace of my
   Family- what would the World say? who wou'd have thought it, cries
   one? I cou'd never have believ'd it, cries another. No, as thou
   say'st, I'll remain as I am- marry and live honestly. Blunt. Well
   resolv'd, I'll leave you, for I was just going to serenade my Fairy
   Queen, when I met thee at the Door- some Deeds of Gallantry must be
   perform'd, Seignior, Bonus Nochus. [Ex. Blunt. Enter Shift with Light.
   Feth. Hah, a Light, undone! Harl. Patientia, Patientia, Seignior.
   Shift. Where the Devil can this Rogue Hunt be? Just now all things are
   ready for marrying these two Monsters; they wait, the House is husht,
   and in the lucky Minute to have him out of the way: sure the Devil
   owes me a spite. [Runs against Harlequin, puts out his Candle. Harl.
   Qui est la? Shift. 'Tis Harlequin: Pox on't, is't you? Harl. Peace,
   here's Fetherfool, I'll secure him, whilst you go about your Affair.
   [Ex. Shift. Feth. Oh, I hear a Noise, dear Harlequin secure me; if I
   am discover'd I am undone- hold, hold- here's a Door- [They both go
   in. Scene changes to a Chamber, discovers the She-Giant asleep in a
   great Chair. Enter Fetherfool and Harlequin. Feth. Hah- my Lady
   Monster! have I to avoid Scylla run upon Carybdis?- hah, she sleeps;
   now wou'd some magnanimous Lover make good Use of this Opportunity,
   take Fortune by the Fore- lock, put her to't, and make sure Work- but
   Egad, he must have a better Heart, or a better Mistress than I. Harl.
   Try your Strength, I'll be civil and leave you. [In Italian he still
   speaks. Feth. Excuse me, Seignior, I should crackle like a wicker
   Bottle in her Arms- no, Seignior, there's no venturing without a Grate
   between us: the Devil wou'd not give her due Benevolence- No, when I'm
   marry'd, I'll e'en show her a fair pair of Heels, her Portion will pay
   Postage- But what if the Giant should carry her? that's to be fear'd,
   then I have cock'd and drest, and fed, and ventur'd all this while for
   nothing. Harl. Faith, Seignior, if I were you, I wou'd make sure of
   something, see how rich she is in Gems. Feth. Right, as thou say'st, I
   ought to make sure of something, and she is rich in Gems: How amiable
   looks that Neck with that delicious row of Pearls about it. Harl. She
   sleeps. Feth. Ay, she sleeps as 'twere her last. What if I made bold
   to unrig her? So if I miss the Lady, I have at least my Charges paid:
   what vigorous Lover can resist her Charms?- [Looks on her. But shou'd
   she wake and miss it, and find it about me, I shou'd be hang'd- [Turns
   away. -So then, I lose my Lady too- but Flesh and Blood cannot resist-
   What if I left the Town? then I lose my Lady still; and who wou'd lose
   a Hog for the rest of the Proverb?- And yet a Bird in Hand, Friend
   Nicholas- Yet sweet Meat may have sour Sauce- And yet refuse when
   Fortune offers- Yet Honesty's a Jewel- But a Pox upon Pride, when
   Folks go naked- Harl. Well said. [Incouraging him by Signs. Feth. Ay-
   I'll do't- but what Remedy now against Discovery and Restitution?
   Harl. Oh, Sir, take no care, you shall- swallow 'em. Feth. How,
   swallow 'em! I shall ne'er be able to do't. Harl. I'll shew you,
   Seignior, 'tis easy. Feth. 'Gad that may be, 'twere excellent if I
   cou'd do't; but first- by your leave. [Unties the Necklace, breaks the
   String, and Harl. swallows one to shew him. Harl. Look ye, that's all-
   Feth. Hold, hold, Seignior, an you be so nimble, I shall pay dear for
   my Learning- let me see- Friend Nicholas, thou hast swallow'd many a
   Pill for the Disease of the Body, let's see what thou canst perform
   for that of the Purse. [Swallows 'em. -so- a comfortable business
   this- three or four thousand pound in Cordial-Pearl: 'Sbud, Mark
   Anthony was never so treated by his Egyptian Crocodile- hah, what
   noise is that? Harl. Operator, Operator, Seignior. Feth. How, an
   Operator! why, what the Devil makes he here? some Plot upon my Lady's
   Chastity; were I given to be jealous now, Danger wou'd ensue- Oh, he's
   entring, I would not be seen for all the World. Oh, some place of
   Refuge- [Looking about. Harl. I know of none. Feth. Hah, what's this-
   a Clock Case? Harl. Good, good- look you, Sir, do you do thus, and
   'tis impossible to discover ye. [Goes into the Case, and shews him how
   to stand; then Fetherfool goes in, pulls off his Periwig, his Head
   out, turning for the Minutes o'th' top: his Hand out, and his Fingers
   pointing to a Figure. Enter Shift and Hunt. Feth. Oh Heaven, he's
   here. Shift. See where she sleeps; get you about your business, see
   your own little Marmoset and the Priest be ready, that we may marry
   and consummate before Day; and in the Morning our Friends shall see us
   abed together, give us the good morrow, and the Work's done. [Ex.
   Hunt. Feth. Oh Traytor to my Bed, what a Hellish Plot's here
   discover'd! [Shift wakes the Giant. Giant. Oh, are you come, my
   Sweetest? Feth. Hah, the Mistress of my Bosom false too! ah, who wou'd
   trust faithless Beauty- oh that I durst speak. Shift. Come let's away,
   your Uncle and the rest of the House are fast asleep, let's away e'er
   the two Fools, Blunt and Fetherfool, arrive. Giant. Hang 'em,
   Pigeon-hearted Slaves- Shift. A Clock- let's see what hour 'tis-
   [Lifts up the Light to see, Feth. blows it out. -How! betray'd- I'll
   kill the Villain. [Draws. Feth. Say you so, then 'tis time for me to
   uncase. Shift. Have you your Lovers hid? [Gets out, all groping in the
   dark, Feth. gets the Giant by the Hand. Giant. Softly, or we're
   undone; give me your Hand, and be undeceiv'd. Feth. 'Tis she, now
   shall I be reveng'd. [Leads her out. Shift. What, gone! Death, has
   this Monster got the Arts of Woman? [Harl. meets him in the dark, and
   plays tricks with him. [Ex. all. Enter Willmore and La Nuche by dark.
   Will. Now we are safe and free, let's in, my Soul, and gratefully
   first sacrifice to Love, then to the Gods of Mirth and Wine, my Dear.
   [Ex. passing over the Stage. Enter Blunt with Petronella, imbracing
   her, his Sword in his Hand, and a Box of Jewels. Pet. I was damnably
   afraid I was pursu'd. [Aside. Blunt. Something in the Fray I've got,
   pray Heaven it prove a Prize, after my cursed ill luck of losing my
   Lady Dwarf: Why do you tremble, fair one?- you're in the Hands of an
   honest Gentleman, Adshartlikins. Pet. Alas, Sir, just as I approacht
   Seignior Doctor's Door, to have my self surrounded with naked Weapons,
   then to drop with the fear my Casket of Jewels, which had not you by
   chance stumbled on and taken up, I had lost a hundred thousand Crowns
   with it. Blunt. Ha um- a hundred thousand Crowns- a pretty trifling
   Sum- I'll marry her out of hand. [Aside. Pet. This is an Englishman,
   of a dull honest Nation, and might be manag'd to advantage, were but I
   transform'd now. [Aside. I hope you are a Man of Honour; Sir, I am a
   Virgin, fled from the rage of an incens'd Brother; cou'd you but
   secure me with my Treasure, I wou'd be devoted yours. Blunt. Secure
   thee! by this Light, sweet Soul, I'll marry thee;- Beivile's Lady ran
   just so away with him- this must be a Prize- [Aside. But hark-
   prithee, my Dear, step in a little, I'll keep my good Fortune to my
   self. Pet. See what trust I repose in your Hands, those Jewels, Sir.
   Blunt. So- there can be no jilting here, I am secur'd from being
   cozen'd however. [Ex. Pet. Enter Fetherfool. Feth. A Pox on all Fools,
   I say, and a double Pox on all fighting Fools; just when I had
   miraculously got my Monster by a mistake in the dark, convey'd her
   out, and within a moment of marrying her, to have my Friend set upon
   me, and occasion my losing her, was a Catastrophe which none but thy
   termagant Courage (which never did any Man good) cou'd have procur'd.
   Blunt. 'Dshartlikins, I cou'd kill my self. Feth. To fight away a
   couple of such hopeful Monsters, and two Millions- 'owns, was ever
   Valour so improvident? Blunt. Your fighting made me mistake: for who
   the Pox wou'd have look'd for Nicholas Fetherfool in the person of a
   Hero? Feth. Fight, 'Sbud, a Million of Money wou'd have provok'd a
   Bully; besides, I took you for the damn'd Rogue my Rival. Blunt. Just
   as I had finish'd my Serenade, and had put up my Pipes to be gone, out
   stalk'd me your two-handed Lady, with a Man at her Girdle like a bunch
   of Keys, whom I taking for nothing less than some one who had some
   foul design upon the Gentlewoman, like a true Knight-Errant, did my
   best to rescue her. Feth. Yes, yes, I feel you did, a Pox of your
   heavy hand. Blunt. So whilst we two were lovingly cuffing each other,
   comes the Rival, I suppose, and carries off the Prize. Feth. Who must
   be Seignior Lucifer himself, he cou'd never have vanisht with that
   Celerity else with such a Carriage- But come, all we have to do is to
   raise the Mountebank and the Guardian, pursue the Rogues, have 'em
   hang'd by Law, for a Rape, and Theft, and then we stand fair again.
   Blunt. Faith, you may, if you please, but Fortune has provided
   otherwise for me. [Aside.] [Ex. Blu. and Feth. Enter Beaumond and
   Ariadne. Beau. Sure none lives here, or Thieves are broken in, the
   Doors are all left open. Aria. Pray Heaven this Stranger prove but
   honest now. [Aside. Beau. Now, my dear Creature, every thing conspires
   to make us happy, let us not defer it. Aria. Hold, dear Captain, I
   yield but on Conditions, which are these- I give you up a Maid of
   Youth and Beauty, ten thousand Pound in ready Jewels here- three times
   the value in Estate to come, of which here be the Writings, you
   delivering me a handsom proper fellow, Heart-whole and sound, that's
   all- your Name I ask not till the Priest declare it, who is to seal
   the Bargain. I cannot deceive, for I let you know I am Daughter-in-law
   to the English Ambassador. Beau. Ariadne!- How vain is all Man's
   Industry and Care To make himself accomplish'd; When the gay
   fluttering Fool, or the half-witted rough unmanner'd Brute, Who in
   plain terms comes right down to the business, Out-rivals him in all
   his Love and Fortunes. [Aside. Aria. Methinks you cool upon't,
   Captain. Beau. Yes, Ariadne. Aria. Beaumond! Beau. Oh what a World of
   Time have I mispent for want of being a Blockhead- 'Sdeath and Hell,
   Wou'd I had been some brawny ruffling Fool, Some forward impudent
   unthinking Sloven, A Woman's Tool; for all besides unmanageable. Come,
   swear that all this while you thought 'twas I. The Devil has taught ye
   Tricks to bring your Falshood off. Aria. Know 'twas you! no, Faith, I
   took you for as errant a right- down Captain as ever Woman wisht for;
   and 'twas uncivil egad, to undeceive me, I tell you that now. Enter
   Willmore and La Nuche by dark. Will. Thou art all Charms, a Heaven of
   Sweets all over, plump smooth round Limbs, small rising Breasts, a
   Bosom soft and panting- I long to wound each Sense. Lights there- who
   waits?- there yet remains a Pleasure unpossest, the sight of that dear
   Face- Lights there- where are my Vermin? [Ex. Will. Aria. My Captain
   with a Woman- and is it so- Enter Will. with Lights, sees Aria. and
   goes to her. Will. By Heaven, a glorious Beauty! now a Blessing on
   thee for shewing me so dear a Face- Come, Child, let's retire and
   begin where we left off. La Nu. A Woman! Aria. Where we left off!
   pray, where was that, good Captain? Will. Within upon the Bed, Child-
   come- I'll show thee. Beau. Hold, Sir. Will. Beaumond! come fit to
   celebrate my Happiness; ah such a Woman-friend! Beau. Do ye know her?
   Will. All o'er, to be the softest sweetest Creature- Beau. I mean, do
   ye know who she is? Will. Nor care; 'tis the last Question I ever ask
   a fine Woman. Beau. And you are sure you are thus well acquainted.
   Will. I cannot boast of much acquaintance- but I have pluckt a Rose
   from her Bosom- or so- and given it her again- we've past the hour of
   the Berjere together, that's all- Beau. And do you know- this Lady is
   my- Wife? [Draw. Will. Hah! hum, hum, hum, hum- [Turns and sings, sees
   La Nuche, and returns quick with an uneasy Grimace. Beau. Did you not
   hear me? Draw. Will. Draw, Sir- what on my Friend? Beau. On your
   Cuckold, Sir, for so you've doubly made me: Draw, or I'll kill thee-
   [Passes at him, he fences with his Hat, La Nu. holds Beau. Will. Hold,
   prithee hold. La Nu. Put up your Sword, this Lady's innocent, at least
   in what concerns this Evening's business; I own- with Pride I own I am
   the Woman that pleas'd so well to Night. Will. La Nuche! kind Soul to
   bring me off with so handsom a lye: How lucky 'twas she happen'd to be
   here! Beau. False as thou art, why shou'd I credit thee? La Nu. By
   Heaven, 'tis true, I will not lose the glory on't. Will. Oh the dear
   perjur'd Creature, how I love thee for this dear lying Virtue- Harkye,
   Child, hast thou nothing to say for thy self, to help us out withal?-
   [To Aria. aside. Aria. I! I renounce ye- false Man. Beau. Yes, yes, I
   know she's innocent of this, for which I owe no thanks to either of
   you, but to my self who mistook her in the dark. La Nu. And you it
   seems mistook me for this Lady; I favour'd your Design to gain your
   Heart, for I was told, that if this Night I lost you, I shou'd never
   regain you: now I am yours, and o'er the habitable World will follow
   you, and live and starve by turns, as Fortune pleases. Will. Nay, by
   this Light, Child, I knew when once thou'dst try'd me, thou'dst ne'er
   part with me- give me thy Hand, no Poverty shall part us. [Kisses her.
   -so- now here's a Bargain made without the formal Foppery of Marriage.
   La Nu. Nay, faith Captain, she that will not take thy word as soon as
   the Parson's of the Parish, deserves not the Blessing. Will. Thou art
   reform'd, and I adore the Change. Enter the Guardian, Blunt, and
   Fetherfool. Guar. My Nieces stol'n, and by a couple of the Seignior's
   Men! the Seignior fled too! undone, undone! Will. Hah, now's my Cue, I
   must finish this Jest. [Goes out. Enter Shift and Giant, Hunt and
   Dwarf. Guar. Oh impudence, my Nieces, and the Villains with 'em! I
   charge ye, Gentlemen, to lay hold on 'em. Dwarf. For what, good Uncle,
   for being so courageous to marry us? Guar. How, married to Rogues,
   Rascals, John Potages! Blunt. Who the Devil wou'd have look'd for
   jilting in such Hobgoblins? Feth. And hast thou deceiv'd me, thou foul
   filthy Synagogue? Enter Willmore like a Mountebank as before. Blunt.
   The Mountebank! oh thou cheating Quack, thou sophisticated adulterated
   Villain. Feth. Thou cozening, lying, Fortune-telling, Fee-taking
   Rascal. Blunt. Thou jugling, conjuring, canting Rogue! Will. What's
   the matter, Gentlemen? Blunt. Hast thou the Impudence to ask, who took
   my Money to marry me to this ill-favour'd Baboon? Feth. And me to this
   foul filthy o'ergrown Chronicle? Blunt. And hast suffered Rogues, thy
   Servants, to marry 'em: Sirrah, I will beat thee past Cure of all thy
   hard-nam'd Drugs, thy Guzman Medicines. Feth. Nay, I'll peach him in
   the Inquisition for a Wizard, and have him hang'd for a Witch. Shift.
   Sir, we are Gentlemen, and you shall have the thirds of their Portion,
   what wou'd you more? [Aside to the Guar. Look ye, Sir. [Pulls off
   their Disguise. Blunt. Hunt! Feth. Shift! We are betray'd: all will
   out to the captain. Will. He shall know no more of it than he does
   already for me, Gentlemen. [Pulls off his Disguise. Blunt. Willmore!
   Feth. Ay, ay, 'tis he. Blunt. Draw, Sir- you know me- Will. -For one
   that 'tis impossible to cozen. [All laugh. Beau. Have a care, Sir, we
   are all for the Captain. Feth. As for that, Sir, we fear ye not, d'ye
   see, were you Hercules and all his Myrmidons. [Draws, but gets behind.
   Will. Fools, put up your Swords, Fools, and do not publish the Jest;
   your Money you shall have again, on condition you never pretend to be
   wiser than your other Men, but modestly believe you may be cozen'd as
   well as your Neighbours. [The Guardian talking with Hunt and Shift and
   Giant this while. Feth. La you, Ned, why shou'd Friends fall out?
   Blunt. Cozen'd! it may be not, Sir; the Essex Fool, the cozen'd dull
   Rogue can shew Moveables or so- nay, they are right too- [Shews his
   Jewels. This is no Naples Adventure, Gentlemen, no Copper Chains; all
   substantial Diamonds, Pearls and Rubies- [Will. takes the Casket, and
   looks in it. La Nu. Hah, do not I know that Casket, and those Jewels!
   Feth. How the Pox came this Rogue by these? Will. Hum, Edward, I
   confess you have redeem'd your Reputation, and shall hereafter pass
   for a Wit- by what good fortune came you by this Treasure?- what Lady-
   Blunt. Lady, Sir! alas no, I'm a Fool, a Country Fop, an Ass, I; but
   that you may perceive your selves mistaken, Gentlemen, this is but an
   earnest of what's to come, a small token of remembrance, or so- and
   yet I have no Charms, I; the fine Captain has all the Wit and Beauty-
   but thou'rt my Friend, and I'll impart. [Brings out Petronella veil'd.
   Enter Aurelia and Sancho. Aur. Hither we trac'd her, and see she's
   yonder. San. Sir, in the King's Name lay hold of this old Cheat, she
   has this Night robb'd our Patrona of a hundred thousand Crowns in
   Money and Jewels. Blunt. Hah! [Gets from her. La Nu. You are mistaken,
   Friend Sancho, she only seiz'd 'em for my use, and has deliver'd 'em
   in trust to my Friend the Captain. Pet. Hah, La Nuche! Blunt. How!
   cozen'd again! Will. Look ye, Sir, she's so beautiful, you need no
   Portion, that alone's sufficient for Wit. Feth. Much good may do you
   with your rich Lady, Edward. Blunt. Death, this Fool laugh at me too-
   well, I am an errant right-down Loggerhead, a dull conceited cozen'd
   silly Fool; and he that ever takes me for any other, 'Dshartlikins,
   I'll beat him. I forgive you all, and will henceforth be good-natur'd;
   wo't borrow any Money? Pox on't, I'll lend as far as e'er 'twill go,
   for I am now reclaim'd. Guar. Here is a Necklace of Pearl lost, which,
   Sir, I lay to your Charge. [To Fetherfool. Feth. Hum, I was bewitcht I
   did not rub off with it when it was mine- who, I? if e'er I saw a
   Necklace of Pearl, I wish 'twere in my Belly. Blunt. How a Necklace!
   unconscionable Rogue, not to let me share: well, there is no
   Friendship in the World; I hope they'l hang him. Shift. He'll ne'er
   confess without the Rack- come, we'll toss him in a Blanket. Feth.
   Hah, toss me in a Blanket, that will turn my Stomach most
   villainously, and I shall disimbogue and discover all. Shift. Come,
   come, the Blanket. [They lay hold on him. Feth. Hold, hold, I do
   confess, I do confess- Shift. Restore, and have your Pardon. Feth.
   That is not in Nature at present, for Gentlemen, I have eat 'em.
   Shift. 'Sdeath, I'll dissect ye. [Goes to draw. Will. Let me redeem
   him; here Boy, take him to my Chamber, and let the Doctor glyster him
   soundly, and I'll warrant you your Pearl again. Feth. If this be the
   end of travelling, I'll e'en to old England again, take the Covenant,
   get a Sequestrator's Place, grow rich, and defy all Cavaliering. Beau.
   'Tis Morning, let's home, Ariadne, and try, if possible, to love so
   well to be content to marry; if we find that amendment in our Hearts,
   to say we dare believe and trust each other, then let it be a Match.
   Aria. With all my Heart. Will. You have a hankering after Marriage
   still, but I am for Love and Gallantry. So tho by several ways we gain
   our End, Love still, like Death, does to one Center tend, EPILOGUE.
   Spoken by Mrs. BARRY. POETS are Kings of Wit, and you appear A
   Parliament, by Play-Bill, summon'd here; When e'er in want, to you for
   aid they fly, And a new Play's the Speech that begs supply: But now-
   The scanted Tribute is so slowly paid, Our Poets must find out another
   Trade; They've tried all ways th' insatiate Clan to please, Have
   parted with their old Prerogatives, Their Birth-right Satiring, and
   their just pretence Of judging even their own Wit and Sense; And write
   against their Consciences, to show How dull they can he to comply with
   you. They've flatter'd all the Mutineers i'th' Nation, Grosser than
   e'er was done in Dedication; Pleas'd your sick Palates with Fantastick
   Wit, Such as was ne'er a treat before to th' Pit; Giants, fat
   Cardinals, Pope Joans and Fryers, To entertain Right Worshipfuls and
   Squires: Who laugh and cry Ads Nigs, 'tis woundy good, When the
   fuger's all the Jest that's understood. And yet you'll come but once,
   unless by stealth, Except the Author be for Commonwealth; Then half
   Crown more you nobly throw away, And tho my Lady seldom see a Play,
   She, with her eldest Daughter, shall be boxt that day. Then Prologue
   comes, Ads-lightikins, crys Sir John, You shall hear notable Conceits
   anon: How neatly, Sir, he'll bob the Court and French King, And tickle
   away- you know who- for Wenching. All this won't do, they e'en may
   spare their Speeches, For all their greasing will not buy 'em
   Britches; To get a penny new found ways must take, As forming Popes,
   and Squibs and Crackers make. In Coffee-Houses some their talent vent,
   Rail for the Cause against the Government, And make a pretty thriving
   living on't, For who would let a useful Member want. Things being
   brought to this distressed Estate, 'Twere fit you took the matter in
   Debate. There was a time, when Loyally by you, True Wit and Sense
   received Allegiance due, Our King of Poets had his Tribute pay'd, His
   Peers secur'd beneath his Laurel's shade. What Crimes have they
   committed, they must be Driven to the last and worst Extremity? Oh,
   let it not be said of English Men, Who have to Wit so just and noble
   been, They should their Loyal Principles recant, And let the glorious
   Monarch of it want. THE END .