Volume I Part 12 (2/2)

Enter _Belvile_, _Blunt_ and _Willmore_, with his s.h.i.+rt b.l.o.o.d.y.

_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.-- d.a.m.n these gay Harlots-- by this Hand I'll have as sound and handsome a Wh.o.r.e for a Patac.o.o.ne.-- 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 Gentle-woman 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?

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