Volume I Part 48 (1/2)

--I am sorry you cannot enter at that low Door, Seignior, I'll have it broken down--

_Hunt._ No, Seignior, I can go in at twice.

_Feth._ How, at twice! what a Pox can he mean?

_Will._ Oh, Sir,'tis a frequent thing by way of Inchantment. Hunt _being all Doublet, leaps off from another Man who is all Breeches, and goes out; Breeches follows stalking._

_Feth._ Oh Pox, Mr. Doctor, this must be the Devil.

_Will._ Oh fie, Sir, the Devil! no 'tis all done by an inchanted Girdle-- These d.a.m.n'd Rascals will spoil all by too gross an Imposition on the Fools.

[Aside.

_Feth._ This is the Devil, _Ned_, that's certain-- But hark ye, Mr.

Doctor, I hope I shall not have my Mistress inchanted from me by this inchanted Rival, hah?

_Will._ Oh, no, Sir, the Inquisition will never let 'em marry, for fear of a Race of Giants,'twill be worse than the Invasion of the _Moors_, or the _French_: but go-- think of your Mistresses Names and Ages, here's Company, and you would not be seen.

[Ex. _Blunt_ and _Feth._

Enter _La Nuche_ and_ Aurelia_; _Will._ bows to her.

_La Nu._ Sir, the Fame of your excellent Knowledge, and what you said to me this day; has given me a Curiosity to learn my Fate, at least that Fate you threatened.

_Will._ Madam, from the Oracle in the Box you may be resolved any Question-- [Leads her to the Table, where stands a Box full of b.a.l.l.s; he stares on her.

--How lovely every absent minute makes her-- Madam, be pleas'd to draw from out this Box what Ball you will.

[She draws, he takes it, and gazes on her and on it.

Madam, upon this little Globe is character'd your Fate and Fortune; the History of your Life to come and past-- first, Madam-- you're-- a Wh.o.r.e.

_La Nu._ A very plain beginning.

_Will._ My Art speaks simple Truth; the Moon is your Ascendent, that covetous Planet that borrows all her Light, and is in opposition still to _Venus_; and Interest more prevails with you than Love: yet here I find a cross-- intruding Line-- that does inform me-- you have an Itch that way, but Interest still opposes: you are a slavish mercenary Prost.i.tute.

_La Nu._ Your Art is so, tho call'd divine, and all the Universe is sway'd by Interest: and would you wish this Beauty which adorns me, should be dispos'd about for Charity? Proceed and speak more Reason.

_Will._ But _Venus_ here gets the Ascent again, and spite of-- Interest, spite of all Aversion, will make you doat upon a Man-- [Still looking on, and turning the Ball.

Wild, fickle, restless, faithless as the Winds!-- a Man of Arms he is-- and by this Line-- a Captain-- [Looking on her.] for _Mars_ and _Venus_ were in conjunction at his Birth-- and Love and War's his business.

_La Nu._ There thou hast toucht my Heart, and spoke so true, that all thou say'st I shall receive as Oracle. Well, grant I love, that shall not make me yield.

_Will._ I must confess you're ruin'd if you yield, and yet not all your Pride, not all your Vows, your Wit, your Resolution, or your Cunning, can hinder him from conquering absolutely: your Stars are fixt, and Fate irrevocable.

_La Nu._ No,-- I will controul my Stars and Inclinations; and tho I love him more than Power or Interest, I will be Mistress of my fixt Resolves-- One Question more-- Does this same Captain, this wild happy Man love me?

_Will._ I do not-- find-- it here-- only a possibility incourag'd by your Love-- Oh that you cou'd resist-- but you are destin'd his, and to be ruin'd.

[Sighs, and looks on her, she grows in a Rage.

_La Nu._ Why do you tell me this? I am betray'd, and every caution blows my kindling Flame-- hold-- tell me no more-- I might have guess'd my Fate, from my own Soul have guest it-- but yet I will be brave, I will resist in spite of Inclinations, Stars, or Devils.

_Will._ Strive not, fair Creature, with the Net that holds you, you'll but intangle more. Alas! you must submit and be undone.