The Rover / Behn, Aphra

   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. Wil