Volume I Part 51 (1/2)

_La Nu._ Will you then be ever kind and true?

_Will._ Ask thy own Charms, and to confirm thee more, yield and disarm me quite.

_La Nu._ Will you not marry then? for tho you never can be mine that way, I cannot think that you should be another's.

_Will._ No more delays, by Heaven, 'twas but a trick.

_La Nu._ And will you never see that Woman neither, whom you're this Night to visit?

_Will._ d.a.m.n all the rest of thy weak s.e.x, when thou look'st thus, and art so soft and charming.

[Offers to lead her out.

_La Nu._ _Sancho_-- my Coach. [Turns in scorn.

_Will._ Take heed, what mean ye?

_La Nu._ Not to be pointed at by all the envying Women of the Town, who'l laugh and cry, Is this the high-priz'd Lady, now fall'n so low, to doat upon a Captain? a poor disbanded Captain? defend me from that Infamy.

_Will._ Now all the Plagues-- but yet I will not curse thee, 'tis lost on thee, for thou art destin'd d.a.m.n'd.

[Going out.

_La Nu._ Whither so fast?

_Will._ Why,-- I am so indifferent grown, that I can tell thee now-- to a Woman, young, fair and honest; she'll be kind and thankful-- farewel, Jilt-- now should'st thou die for one sight more of me, thou should'st not ha't; nay, should'st thou sacrifice all thou hast couzen'd other c.o.xcombs of, to buy one single visit, I am so proud, by Heaven, thou shouldst not have it-- To grieve thee more, see here, insatiate Woman [Shews her a Purse or hands full of Gold] the Charm that makes me lovely in thine Eyes: it had all been thine hadst thou not basely bargain'd with me, now 'tis the Prize of some well-meaning Wh.o.r.e, whose Modesty will trust my Generosity.

[Goes out.

_La Nu._ Now I cou'd rave, t'have lost an opportunity which industry nor chance can give again-- when on the yielding point, a cursed fit of Pride comes cross my Soul, and stops the kind Career-- I'll follow him, yes I'll follow him, even to the Arms of her to whom he's gone.

_Aur._ Madam, 'tis dark, and we may meet with Insolence.

_La Nu._ No matter: _Sancho_, let the Coach go home, and do you follow me--

_Women may boast their Honour and their Pride, But Love soon lays those feebler Powr's aside._ [Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I. _The Street, or Backside of the Piazza dark._

Enter _Willmore_ alone.

_Will._ A Pox upon this Woman that has jilted me, and I for being a fond believing Puppy to be in earnest with so great a Devil. Where be these c.o.xcombs too? this _Blunt_ and _Fetherfool_? when a Man needs 'em not, they are plaguing him with their unseasonable Jests-- could I but light on them, I would be very drunk to night-- but first I'll try my Fortune with this Woman-- let me see-- hereabouts is the Door.

[Gropes about for the Door.

Enter _Beaumond_, follow'd by _La Nuche_, and _Sancho_.

_La Nu._ 'Tis he, I know it by his often and uneasy pauses--

_Beau._ And shall I home and sleep upon my injury, whilst this more happy Rover takes my right away?-- no, d.a.m.n me then for a cold senseless Coward.

[Pauses and pulls out a Key.