ROVER

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?- Ma