Volume I Part 22 (2/2)

_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 Solicitations and Address, only fancy themselves so.-- I have lain with a Woman of Quality, who has all the while been railing at Wh.o.r.es.

_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 _h.e.l.lena_, drest in Man's Clothes.

_h.e.l.l._ 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_.

_h.e.l.l._ Well, something I'll do to vex him for this. [Aside.

_Ang._ I will not speak with him; am I in humour to receive a Lover?

_Will._ Not speak with him! why I'll be gone-- and wait your idler minutes-- Can I shew less Obedience to the thing I love so fondly?

[Offers to go.

_Ang._ A fine Excuse this-- stay--

_Will._ And hinder your Advantage: should I repay your Bounties so ungratefully?

_Ang._ Come hither, Boy,-- that I may let you see How much above the Advantages you name I prize one Minute's Joy with you.

_Will._ Oh, you destroy me with this Endearment.

[Impatient to be gone.

--Death, how shall I get away?-- Madam,'twill not be fit I should be seen with you-- besides, it will not be convenient-- and I've a Friend-- that's dangerously sick.

_Ang._ I see you're impatient-- yet you shall stay.

_Will._ And miss my a.s.signation with my Gipsy.

[Aside, and walks about impatiently.

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