Volume Ii Part 101 (2/2)
Why from thy Window didst thou take my Vows, And make such kind Returns? Oh, d.a.m.n your Quality: What honest Wh.o.r.e but wou'd have scorn'd thy Cunning?
_Cor_. I make ye kind Returns?
_Gal_. Persuade me out of that too; 'twill be like ye.
_Cor_. By all my Wishes I never held Discourse with you--but this Evening, since I first saw your Face.
_Gal_. Oh, the Impudence of Honesty and Quality in Woman!
A plague upon 'em both, they have undone me!
Bear witness, oh thou gentle Queen of Night, G.o.ddess of Shades, ador'd by Lovers most; How oft under thy Covert she has d.a.m.n'd her self, With feigned Love to me! [_In Pa.s.sion_.
_Cor_. Heavens! this is Impudence: that Power I call to witness too, how d.a.m.nably thou injur'st me. [_Angry_.
_Gal_. You never from your Window talk'd of Love to me?
_Cor_. Never.
_Gal_. So, nor you're no Curtezan?
_Cor_. No, by my Life.
_Gal_. So, nor do intend to be, by all that's good?
_Cor_. By all that's good, never.
_Gal_. So, and you are real honest, and of Quality?
_Cor_. Or may I still be wretched.
_Gal_. So, then farewel Honesty and Quality--'Sdeath, what a Night, what Hopes, and what a Mistress, have I all lost for Honesty and Quality!
[_Offers to go_.
_Cor_. Stay.--
_Gal_. I will be rack'd first, let go thy hold!
[_In fury_.
--Unless thou wou'dst repent.-- [_In a soft tone_.
_Cor_. I cannot of my fixt Resolves for Virtue!
--But if you could but--love me--honourably-- For I a.s.sum'd this Habit and this Dress--
_Gal_. To cheat me of my Heart the readiest way: And now, like gaming Rooks, unwilling to give o'er till you have hook'd in my last stake, my Body too, you cozen me with Honesty.--Oh, d.a.m.n the Dice--I'll have no more on't, I, the Game's too deep for me, unless you play'd upon the square, or I could cheat like you.-- Farewel, Quality-- [_Goes out_.
_Cor_. He's gone; _Philippa_, run and fetch him back; I have but this short Night allow'd for Liberty; Perhaps to morrow I may be a Slave.
[_Ex_. Phil.
--Now o' my Conscience there never came good of this troublesome Virtue-- hang't, I was too serious; but a Devil on't, he looks so charmingly--and was so very pressing, I durst trust my gay Humour and good Nature no farther.
[_She walks about, Sir_ Signal _peeps and then comes out_.
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