Volume Iii Part 19 (1/2)

Sir _Tim_. How, my _Betty_!

_Flaunt_. This is the Trade you drive, you eternal Fop, when I sit at home expecting you Night after Night.

Sir _Tim_. Nay, dear Betty!

_Flaunt_. 'Tis here you spend that which shou'd buy me Points and Petticoats, whilst I go like no body's Mistress; I'd as live be your Wife at this rate, so I had: and I'm in no small danger of getting the foul Disease by your Leudness.

Sir _Tim_. Victorious _Betty_, be merciful, and do not ruin my Reputation amongst my Friends.

_Flaunt_. Your Wh.o.r.es you mean, you Sot you.

Sir _Tim_. Nay, triumphant _Betty_, hear thy poor _Timmy_.

_Flaunt_. My poor _Ninny_, I'm us'd barbarously, and won't endure it.

Sir _Tim_. I've won Money to Night, _Betty_, to buy thee Clothes--hum --hum--Well said, _Frank_, towse the little Jilts, they came for that purpose.

_Flaunt_. The Devil confound him, what a Prize have I lost by his being here--my Comfort is, he has not found me out though, but thinks I came to look for him, and accordingly I must dissemble.

_Bel_. What's here? A Lady all in Tears!

Sir _Tim_. An old Acquaintance of mine, that takes it unkindly that I am for Change--_Betty_, say so too, you know I can settle nothing till I'm marry'd; and he can do it swingingly, if we can but draw him in.

_Flaunt_. This mollifies something, do this, and you'll make your Peace; if not, you Rascal, your Ears shall pay for this Night's Transgression.

Sir _Tim_. Come hither, _Frank_, is not this a fine Creature?

_Bel_. By Heaven, a very Devil!

Sir _Tim_. Come, come, approach her; for if you'll have a Miss, this has all the good Qualities of one--go, go Court her, thou art so bashful--

_Bel_. I cannot frame my Tongue to so much Blasphemy, as 'tis to say kind things to her--I'll try my Heart though--Fair Lady--d.a.m.n her, she is not fair--nor sweet--nor good--nor--something I must say for a beginning.

Come, Lady--dry your Eyes: This Man deserves not all the Tears you shed.

--So--at last the Devil has got the better of me, And I am enter'd.

_Flaunt_. You see, Sir, how miserable we Women are that love you Men.

_Bel_. How, did you love him? Love him against his Will?

_Flaunt_. So it seems, Sir.

_Bel_. Oh, thou art wretched then indeed; no wonder if he hate thee-- Does he not curse thee?

Curse thee till thou art d.a.m.n'd, as I do lost _Diana_. [_Aside_.

_Flaunt_. Curse me! He were not best in my hearing; Let him do what he will behind my Back.

What ails the Gentleman?

_Bel_. G.o.ds! what an odious thing mere Coupling is!

A thing which every sensual Animal Can do as well as we--but prithee tell me, Is there nought else between the n.o.bler Creatures?

_Flaunt_. Not that I know of, Sir-- Lord, he's very silly, or very innocent, I hope he has his Maidenhead; if so, and rich too. Oh, what a booty were this for me! [_Aside_.

_Bel_. 'Tis wondrous strange; Why was not I created like the rest, Wild, and insensible, to fancy all?