Volume I Part 13 (2/2)

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 a.s.s, An a.s.s 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 s.e.x, 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 can 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 a.s.sum'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 Wors.h.i.+p, 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?

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