PROLOGUE.  
Wits, like Physicians never can agree,  
When of a different Society.  
And Rabels' Drops were never more cried down  
By all the Learned Doctors of the Town,  
Than a New Play whose Author is unknown.  
Nor can those Doctors with more Malice sue  
(And powerful Purses) the discenting Few,  
Than those with an Insulting Pride, do rail  
At all who are not of their own Cabal:  
If a Young Poet hit your Humour right,  
You judge him then out of Revenge and Spite.  
So amongst men there are Ridiculous Elves,  
Who Monkeys hate for being too like themselves.  
So that the reason of the grand debate,  
Why Wit so oft is damned, when good Plays take,  
Is, that you Censure as you love, or hate.  
Thus like a Learned Conclave Poets sit,  
Catholic judges both of Sense and Wit,  
And Damn or Save, as they themselves think fit.  
Yet those who to others faults are so severe,  
Are not so perfect but themselves may Err.  
Some write Coract indeed, but then the whole  
(Bating their own Dull stuff i'th' Play) is stole:  
As Bees do suck from Flowers their Honey dew,  
So they rob others striving to please you.  
Some write their Characters Gentile and fine,  
But then they do so Toil for every line,  
That what to you does Easie seem, and Plain,  
Is the hard Issue of their labouring Brain.  
And some th' Effects of all their pains we see,  
Is but to Mimic good Extemporie.  
Others by long Converse about the Town,  
Have Wit enough to write a Lewd Lampoon,  
But their chief skill lies in a Bawdy Song.  
In short, the only Wit that's now in Fashion,  
Is but the gleening of good Conversation.  
As for the Author of this Coming Play,  
I asked him what he thought fit I should say  
In thanks for your good Company to day:  
He called me Fool, and said it was well known,  
You came not here for our sakes, but your own.  
New Plays are stuffed with Wits, and with Deboches,  
That Crowd and sweat like Citts, in Mayday Coaches.  Written by a Person of Quality.  

Some Books printed this Year 1677. For john Amery, at the Peacock; against St. Dunstan's Church in Fleetstreet.  
ADvice to Grand Jurors in cases of Blood, Asserting from Law and Reason, That at the King's Suit in all cases (where a Person by Law is to be indicted for killing of another person) that the Indictment ought to be drawn for Murder, and that the Grand jury ought to find it Murder, where the Evidence is, that the party intended to be indicted had his hands in Blood, and did kill the other Person. By Zachary Babington Esq 8o. price. 2 s. 6 d.  
The Country justice, Containing the practice of the Justices of the Peace, in and out of their Sessions, with an Abridgement of all Statutes relating thereunto to this present Year 1677. By Michael Dalton Esq Fol. price bound 12 s.  
A Treatise of Testaments and last Wills, fit to be understood by all Men, that they may know, whether, whereof, and how, to make them. Compiled out of the Laws Ecclesiastical, Civil, and Cannon, as also out of the Common Laws, Customs and Statutes of this Realm. The fourth Edition, with very large Additions. By Henry Swynburne, sometimes Judge of the Prerogative Court of York, in large 4o. price bound 7 s.  
The Debaucheé, or the Credulous Cuckold, a Comedy, Acted at His Highness the Duke's Theatre, in 4o. price 1 s.  
Man without Passion, or the Wise Stoic, according to the Sentiments of Seneca, written Originally in French, by that great and Learned Philosopher Anthony Le Grand. Englished by G. R. printed 1675. 8o. price 2 s. 6 d.  
An Introduction to the History of England, comprising the principal Affairs of this Land, from its first planting, to the coming of the English Saxons. Together with a Catalogue of the 76 British and Pictish Kings, by D. D. Langhorne. Printed 8o. price 2 s.   

The Actors Names.  

Mr. jevorne, Don Antonio, The Viceroy's Son.  
Mr. Medburne, Don Pedro, A Noble Spaniard, his Friend.  
Mr. Betterton, Belvile, An English Colonel in Love with Florinda.  
Mr. Smith, Willmore, The ROVER.  
Mr. Crosby, Frederick, An English Gentleman, and Friend to Bel. and Fred.  
Mr. Underhill, Blunt, An English Country Gentleman.  
Mr. Richards, Stephano, Servant to Don Pedro  
Mr. percival, Philippo, Lucetta's Gallant.  
Mr. john Lee, Sancho, Pimp to Lucetta.  
Biskey, and Sebastian, Two Bravoes to Angellica.  
Officers and Soldiers.  
Page To Don Antonio.   

Women.  
Mrs. Betterton, Florinda, Sister to Don Pedro  
Mrs. Barrer, Helena, A gay Young Woman designed for a Nun, and Sister to Florinda.  
Mrs. hugh's, Valeria, A Kinswoman to Florinda.  
Mrs. Gwin, Angellica Bianca, A Famous Courtesan.  
Mrs. Leigh, Moretta, Her Woman.  
Mrs. Norris, Calais, Governess to Florinda and Helena.  
Mrs. Gillo, Lucetta, A Jilting Wench.  
Servants, Other Masqueraders' Men and Women.   
The Scene NAPLES, in Carnival time.   

THE ROVER: OR, The Banished Cavaliers.  
ACT the First.  

Scene the First. A Chamber.  Enter Florinda and Helena. Flor. 
WHat an Impertinent thing is a Young Girl bred in a Nunnery? How full of Questions? Prithee no more Helena, I have told thee more than thou understand'st already.  Hell. 
The more's my grief, I would fain know as much as you, which makes me so Inquisitive; nor is't enough I know you're a Lover, unless you tell me too, who 'tis you sigh for.  Flor. 
When you're a Lover, I'll think you fit for a Secret of that Nature.  Hell. 
'Tis true, I never was a Lover yet— but I begin to have a shrewd guess, what 'tis to be so, and fancy it very pretty to sigh, and sing, and blush, and wish, and dream and wish, and long and wish to see the Man; and when I do look pale and tremble; just as you did when my Brother brought home the fine English Colonel to see you— what do you call him Don Belvill.  Flor. 
Fie Helena.  Hell. 
That blush betrays you.— I am sure 'tis so— or is it Don Antonio the Viceroy's Son?— or perhaps the Rich Old Don Vincentio whom my Father designs you for a Husband? why do you blush again?  Flor. 
With Indignation, and how near soever my Father thinks I am to Marrying that hated Object, I shall let him see, I understand better, what's due to my Beauty, Birth and Fortune, and more to my Soul, then to obey those unjust Commands.  Hell. 
Now hang me, if I don't love thee for that dear disobedience. I love mischief strangely, as most of our Sex do, who are come to Love nothing else— but tell me dear Florinda, don't you love that fine Anglese?— for I vow next to loving him myself, 'twill please me most that you do so, for he is so gay and so handsome.  Flor. 
Helena, a Maid designed for a Nun, ought not to be so Curious in a discourse of Love.  Hell. 
And dost thou think that ever I'll be a Nun? or at least till I'm so Old, I'm fit for nothing else— Faith no Sister; and that which makes me long to know whether you love Belvile, is because I hope he has some mad Companion or other, that will spoil my devotion, nay I'm resolved to provide myself this Carnival, if there be ere a handsome proper fellow of my humour above ground, though I ask first.  Flor. 
Prithee be not so wild.  Hell. 
Now you have provided yourself of a Man, you take no care for poor me— prithee tell me, what dost thou see about me that is unfit for Love— have I not a World of Youth? a humour gay? a Beauty passable? a Vigour desirable? well Shaped? clean limbed? sweet breathed? and sense enough to know how all these aught to be employed to the best advantage; yes I do and will, therefore lay aside your hopes of my Fortune▪ by my being a Devote, and tell me how you came acquainted with this Belvile? for I perceive you knew him before he came to Naples.  Flor. 
Yes, I knew him at the Siege of Pampulona, he was then a Colonel of French Horse, who when the Town was Ransacked, Nobly treated my Brother and myself, preserving us from all Insolences; and I must own, (besides great Obligations) I have I know not what, that pleads kindly for him about my Heart, and will suffer no other to enter.— But see my Brother.  Enter Don Pedro Stephano with a Masking habit and Calais. Pedro. 
Good morrow Sister.— Pray when saw you your Lover Don Vincentio?  Flor. 
I know not Sir— Calais when was he here? for I consider it so little, I know not when it was.  Pedro. 
I have a Command from my Father here to tell you, you ought not to despise him, a Man of so vast a Fortune, and such a Passion for you— Stephano my things.  [Puts on his Masking habit. Flor. 
A Passion for me, 'tis more than e'er I saw, or he had a desire should be known— I hate Vincentio, Sir, and I would not have a Man so dear to me as my Brother, follow the ill Customs of our Country, and make a slave of his Sister— and Sir, my Father's will, I'm sure you may divert.  Pedro. 
I know not how dear I am to you, but I wish only to be ranked in your esteem, equal with the English Coll. Belvile— why do you frown and blush? is there any guilt belongs to the Name of that Cavalier.  Flor. 
I'll not deny I value Belvile, when I was exposed to such dangers as the Licenced Lust of common Soldiers threatened, when Rage and Conquest flew through the City— then Belvile this Criminal for my sake, through himself into all dangers to save my Honour and will you not allow him my esteem?  Pedro. 
Yes, pay him what you will in Honour— but you must consider Don Vincentio's Fortune, and the Jointure he'll make you.  Flor. 
Let him consider my Youth, Beauty and Fortune; which ought not to be thrown away on his Age and Jointure.  Pedro. 
'Tis true, he's not so young and fine a Gentleman, as that Belvile,— but what Jewels will that Cavalier present you with? those of his Eyes and Heart?  Hell. 
And are not those better than any Don Vincentio has brought from the Indies.  Pedro. 
Why how now! has your Nunnery breeding taught you to understand the value of Hearts and Eyes?  Hell. 
Better than to believe Vincentio's deserve value from any Woman— he may perhaps increase her Bags, but not her Family.  Pedro. 
This is fine— go— up to your Devotion, you are not designed for the conversation of Lovers.  Hell. 
Nor Saints, yet a while I hope [Aside. ist not enough you make a Nun of me, but you must cast my Sister away too? exposing her to a worse confinement than a Religious life.  Pedro. 
The Girl's mad— it is a confinement to be carried into the Country, to an Ancient Villa belonging to the Family of the Vincentio's these five hundred Years, and have no other Prospect than that pleasing one of seeing all her own that meets her Eyes— a fine Air, large Fields and Gardens, where she may walk and gather Flowers.  Hell. 
When by Moon Light? For I am sure she dares not encounter with the heat of the Sun, that were a task only for Don Vincentio and his Indian breeding, who loves it in the Dog days.— and if these be her daily divertisements, what are those of the Night, to lie in a wide Moth— eaten Bed Chamber, with furniture in Fashion in the Reign of King Sancho the First; The Bed, that which his Fore— fathers lived and died in.  Pedro. 
Very well.  Hell. 
This Apartment (new furbrusht and fitted out for the young Wife) he (out of freedom) makes his dressing Room, and being a Frugal and a Jealus Coxcomb, instead of a Valet to uncase his feeble Carcase, he desires you to do that Office— signs of favour I'll assure you, and such as you must not hope for, unless your Woman be out of the way.  Pedro. 
Have you done yet?  Hell. 
That Honour being past, the Giant stretches itself; yawns and sighs a Belch or two, loud as a Musket, throws himself into Bed, and expects you in his foul sheets, and e'er you can get yourself undressed, calls you with a snore or Two— and are not these fine Blessings to a young Lady?  Pedro. 
Have you done yet?  Hell. 
And this Man you must kiss, nay you must kiss none but him too— and nuzel through his Beard to find his Lips.— And this you must submit to for Threescore years, and all for a Jointure.  Pedro. 
For all your Character of Don Vincentio, she is as like to Marry him, as she was before.  Hell. 
Marry Don Vincentio! hang me such a Wedlock would be worse than Adultery with another Man. I had rather see her in the Hostel de Dieu, to waste her Youth there in Vows, and be a handmaid to Lazars and Cripples, than to lose it in such a Marriage.  Pedro. 
You have considered Sister, that Belvile has no Fortune to bring you to, banished his Country, despised at home, and pitied abroad.  Hel. 
What then? the Viceroy's Son is better than that Old Sir Fisty. Don Vincentio! Don Indian! he thinks he's trading to Gamba still, and would Barter himself (that Bell and Bauble) for your Youth and Fortune.  Pedro. 
Calais take her hence, and lock her up all this Carnival, and at Lent she shall begin her everlasting Penance in a Monastery.  Hell. 
I care not, I had rather be a Nun, than be obliged to Marry as you would have me, if I were designed for't.  Pedro. 
Do not fear the blessing of that choice— you shall be a Nun.  Hel. 
Shall I so? you may chance to be mistaken in my way of devotion:— a Nun! yes I am like to make a fine Nun! I have an excellent humour for a Grate: no, I'll have a Saint of my own to pray to shortly, if I like any that dares venture on me.  [Aside. Pedro. 
Calais, make it your business to watch this Wild Cat. As for you Florinda, I've only tried you all this while and urged my Father's will; but mine is, that you would love Antonio, he is Brave and young, and all that can complete the happiness of a Gallant Maid— this absence of my Father will give us opportunity, to free you from Vincentio, by Marrying here, which you must do to Morrow.  Flor. 
To Morrow!  Pedro. 
To Morrow, or 'twill be too late— 'tis not my Friendship to Antonio, which makes me urge this, but Love to thee, and hatred to Vincentio— therefore resolve upon to Morrow.  Flor. 
Sir, I shall strive to do, as shall become your Sister.  Pedro. 
I'll both believe and trust you— Adieu  Ex. Ped. & Steph. Hell. 
As becomes his Sister!— that is to be as resolved your way, as he is his—  [Hell. goes to Calais Flor. 
I ne'er till now perceived my Ruin near,  
I've no defence against Antonio's Love,  
For he has all the Advantages of Nature,  
The moving Arguments of Youth and Fortune.  Hell. 
But hark you Calais, you will not be so cruel to lock me up indeed, will you.  Call. 
I must obey the Commands I have— besides, do you consider what a life you are going to lead?  Hell. 
Yes, Calais, that of a Nun: and till then I'll be indebted a world of Prayers to you, if you'll let me now see, what I never did, the Divertisements of a Carnival.  Call. 
What, go in Masquerade? 'twill be a fine farewell to the World I take it— pray what would you do there?  Hell. 
That which all the World does, as I am told, be as mad as the rest, and take all Innocent freedoms— Sister you'll go too, will you not? come prithee be not sad.— We'll out— wit Twenty Brothers, if you'll be ruled by me— come put off this dull humour with your clothes, and Assume one as gay, and as fantastic, as the Dress my Cousin Valeria, and I have provided, and let's Ramble.  Flor. 
Calais, will you give us leave to go?  Call. 
I have a Youthful itch of going myself. [Aside.— Madam, if I thought your Brother might not know it, and I might wait on you; for by my troth I'll not trust Young Girls alone.  Flor. 
Thou seest my Brother's gone already, and thou shalt attend, and watch us.  Enter Stephano. Steph. 
Mad? the Habits are come, and your Cousin Valeria is dressed, and stays for you.  Flor. 
'Tis well.— I'll write a Note, and if I chance to see Belvile, and want an opportunity to speak to him, that shall let him know, what I've resolved in favour of him.  Hell. 
Come, let's in and dress us.  [Exeunt.  

SCENE II. A Long Street.  Enter Belvile Melancholy, Blunt and Frederick. Fred. 
When what the Devil ails the Coll. In a time when all the World is gay, to look like mere Lent thus? Hadst thou been long enough in Naples to have been in Love, I should have sworn some such Judgement had befallen thee.  Belu. 
No, I have made no new Amours since I came to Naples?  Fred. 
You have left none behind you in Paris?  Belu. 
Neither.  Fred. 
I cannot divine the Cause then, unless the Old Cause, the want of Money.  Blunt. 
And another Old Cause, the want of a Wench— Would not that revive you?  Blev. 
You are mistaken, Ned.  Blunt. 
Nay, 'Sheartlikins, then thou'rt past Cure.  Fred. 
I have found it out; thou hast renewed thy acquaintance with the Lady that cost thee so many sighs at the Siege of Pampulona— Pox on't, what d'ye you call her— her Brother's a Noble Spaniard— Nephew to the Dead General— Florinda— Ay Florinda— and will nothing serve thy turn but that damned virtuous Woman? whom on my Conscience thou lovest in spite too, because thou seest little or no possibility of gaining her.  Belu. 
Thou art mistaken, I have Interest enough in that lovely Virgin's heart, to make me proud and vain, were it not abated by the severity of a Brother, who perceiving my happiness—  Fred. 
Has civility forbid thee the House?  Belu. 
'Tis so, to make way for a Powerful Rival, the Viceroy's Son, who has the advantage of me, in being a Man of Fortune, a Spaniard, and her Brother's Friend, which gives him Liberty to make his Court, whilst I have recourse only to Letters, and distant looks from her Window, which are as soft and kind  
As those which Heaven sends down on Penitents.  Blunt. 
Heyday! 'Sheartlikins, simile! by this Light the Man is quite spoilt.—  Fred. 
What the Devil are we made of, that we cannot be thus concerned for a Wench— 'Sheartlikins our Cupids are like the Cooks of the Camp, they can Roast or Boil a Woman, but they have none of the fine tricks to set 'em off, no Hogoes to make the Sauce pleasant and the Stomach sharp.  Fred. 
I dare swear I have had a hundred as young kind and handsome as this Florinda; and Dogs eat me, if they were not as troublesome to me i'th' Morning, as they were welcome o'er Night.  Blunt. 
And yet I warrant, he would not touch another Woman, if he might have her for nothing.  Belu. 
That's thy joy, a cheap Whore.  Blunt. 
When I 'Sheartlikins I love a Frank Soul— when did you ever hear of an honest Woman that took a Man's Money? I warrant 'em good ones— but Gentlemen, You may be free, you have been kept so poor with Parliaments and Protectors, that the little Stock you have is not worth preserving— but I thank my Stars, I had more Grace than to forfeit my Estate by Cavaliering.  Belu. 
Methinks only following the Court, should be sufficient to entitle 'em to that.  Blunt. 
'Sheartlikins, they know I follow it to do it no good, unless they pick a hole in my Coat for lending you Money now and then, which is a greater Crime to my Conscience, Gentlemen, than to the Commonwealth.  Enter Willmore. Will. 
Ha! dear Belvile! noble Colonel!  Belu. 
Willmore! welcome ashore, my dear Rover!— what happy wind blew us this good Fortune?  Will. 
Let me salute my dear Fred. and then Command me.— How is't honest Lad?  Fred. 
Faith, Sir, the Old Compliment, infinitely the better to see my dear mad Willmore again.— Prithee why camest thou ashore? and where's the Prince?  Will. 
He's well, and Reigns still Lord of the watery Element.— I must aboard again within a day or two, and my business ashore was only to enjoy myself a little this Carnival.  Belu. 
Pray know our new Friend, Sir, he's but bashful, a raw Traveller, but honest, stout, and one of us.  [Embraces Blunt Will. 
That you esteem him, gives him an Interest here.  Blunt. 
Your Servant, Sir.  Will. 
But well,— Faith I'm glad to meet you again in a warm Climate, where the kind Sun has its Godlike Power still over the Wine and Women— Love and Mirth! are my business in Naples, and if I mistake not the place, here's an Excellent Market for Chapmen of my humour.  Belu. 
See, here be those kind Merchants of Love you look for.  Enter several Men in Masking Habits, some playing on Music, others dancing after, Women dressed like Courtesans, with Papers pinned on their Breasts, and Baskets of Flowers in their Hands. Blunt. 
'Sheartlikins, what have we here?  Fred. 
Now the Game begins.  Will. 
Fine pretty Creatures! may a stranger have leave to look and love?— What's here— Roses for every Month?  [Reads the Papers. Blunt. 
Roses for every Month? what means that?  Belu. 
They are, or would have you think they're Courtesans, who here in Naples, are to be hired by the Month.  Will. 
Kind, and obliging to inform us— Pray where do these Roses grow? I would fain plant some of 'em in a Bed of mine.  Wom. 
Beware such Roses, Sir.  Will. 
A Pox of Fear: I'll be baked with thee between a pair of Sheets, and that's thy proper Still; so I might but strew such Roses over me, and under me— Fair one, Would you would give me leave to gather at your Bush this idle Month; I would go near to make some Body smell of it all the year after.  Belu. 
And thou hast need of such a Remedy, for thou stinkest of Tar and Ropes Ends, like a Dock or Pest-house.  [The Woman puts herself into the Hands of a Man, and Ex. Will. 
Nay, nay, you shall not leave me so.  Belu. 
By all means use no violence here.  Will. 
Death! Just as I was going to be damnably in Love, to have her led off! I could pluck that Rose out of his Hand, and even kiss the Bed, the Bush grew in.  Fred. 
No Friend to Love, like a long Voyage at Sea.  Blunt. 
Except a Nunnery, Fred.  Will. 
Death! But will they not be kind? quickly be kind? Thou know'st I'm no tame sigher, but a Rampant Lion of the Forest.  Advances from the farther end of the Scenes, two Men dressed all over with Horns of several sorts, making Grimasses at one another, with Papers pinned on their Backs. Belu. 
Oh the fantastical Rogues, how they're dressed! 'Tis a Satire against the whole Sex.  Will. 
‛ Is this a Fruit that grows in this warm Country?  Belu. 
Yes: 'Tis pretty to see these Italians start, swell and stab, at the word Cuckold; and yet stumble at Horns on every Threshold.  Will. 
See what's on their Back— Flowers of every Night. [Reads.— Ah Rogue! and more sweet than Roses of every Month! This is a Gardener of Adam's own breeding.  [They dance. Belu. 
What think you of those Grave People?  
— is a Wake in Essex half so mad or Extravagant?  Will. 
I like their sober grave way, 'tis a kind of Legal Authorised Fornication, where the Men are not chid for't, nor the Women despised, as amongst our dull English, even the Monsieurs want that part of good Manners.  Belu. 
But here in Italy, a Monsieur is the humblest best bred Gentleman— Duels are so baffled by Bravoes, that an Age shows not one but between a Frenchman, and a hangman, who is as much too hard for him on the Piaza, as they are for a Dutchman on the New Bridge— but see another Crew.  Enter Florinda, Helena and Valeria, dressed like Gipsies; Calais and Stephano, Lucetta, Philipo and Sancho in Masquerade. Hell. 
Sister, there's your English Man, and with him a handsome proper Fellow— I'll to him, and instead of telling him his Fortune, try my own.  Will. 
Gipsies on my life— sure these will prattle if a Man cross their hands. [Goes to Helena.— dear, pretty, (and I hope) young Devil, will you tell an Amorous stranger, what luck he's like to have?  Hell. 
Have a care how you venture with me Sir, lest I pick your Pocket, which will more vex your English humour, than an Italian Fortune will please you.  Will. 
How the Devil cam'st thou to know my Country and Humour?  Hell. 
The First I guess by a certain forward Impudence, which does not displease me at this time, and the loss of your Money will vex you, because I hope you have but very little to lose.  Will. 
Egad Child thou'rt i'th' right, it is so little, I dare not offer it thee for a kindness— but cannot you divine what other things of more value I have about me, that I would more willingly part with.  Hell. 
Indeed no, that's the business of a Witch, and I am but a Gipsy yet.— Yet without looking in your hand, I have a perilous guess, 'tis some Foolish heart you mean, an Inconstant English heart, as little worth stealing as your Purse.  Will. 
Nay, than thou dost deal with the Devil, that's certain.— thou hast guest as right, as if thou hadst been one of that number it has languished for.— I find you'll be better acquainted with it, nor can you take it in a better time; for I am come from Sea, Child, and Venus not being propitious to me in her own Element: I have a world of Love in store— would you would be good natured and take some on't off my hands.  Hell. 
When— I could be inclined that way— but for a Foolish Vow I am going to make— to die a Maid.  Will. 
Then thou art damned without redemption, and as I am a good Christian, I ought in Charity to divert so wicked a design— therefore prithee dear Creature let me know quickly when, and where I shall begin to set a helping hand to so good a Work.  Hell. 
If you should prevail with my tender heart (as I begin to fear you will, for you have horrible loving Eyes) there will be difficulty in't, that you'll hardly undergo for my sake.  Will. 
Faith Child I have been bred in dangers, and wear a Sword, that has been employed in a worse Cause, than for a handsome kind Woman— name the danger— let it be any thing but a long Siege— and I'll undertake it.  Hell. 
Can you storm?  Will. 
Oh most furiously.  Hell. 
What think you of a Nunnery Wall? for he that wins me, must gain that first.  Will. 
A Nun! Oh how I love thee for't! there's no sinner like a young Saint— nay now there's no denying me, the Old Law had no Curse (to a Woman) like dying a Maid; witness Ieptha's Daughter.  Hell. 
A very good Text this, if well handled, and I perceive Father Captain, you would impose no severe penance on her who were inclined to Console herself, before she took Orders.  Will. 
If she be Young and Handsome.  Hell. 
Ay there's it— but if she be not—  Will. 
By this hand, Child, I have an Implicit Faith, and dare venture on thee with all Faults— besides, 'tis more meritorious to leave the World, when thou hast tasted and proved the pleasure on't. Then 'twill be a virtue in thee, which now will be pure Ignorance.  Hell. 
I perceive good Father Captain, you design only to make me fit for Heaven— but if on the contrary, you should quite divert me from it, and bring me back to the World again, I should have a new Man to seek I find; and what a grief that will be— for when I begin, I fancy I shall love like any thing, I never tried yet.  Will. 
Egad and that's kind— prithee dear Creature, give me credit for a Heart, for faith I'm a very honest Fellow— Oh, I long to come first to the Banquet of Love! and such a swinging Appetite I bring— Oh I'm impatient.— thy Lodging sweetheart, thy Lodging! or I'm a dead Man!  Hell. 
Why must we be either guilty of Fornication or Murder if we converse with you Men— and is there no difference between leave to love me, and leave to lie with me?  Will. 
Faith Child they were made to go together.  Lucett. 
Are you sure this is the Man?  [Pointing to Blunt. Sancho. 
When did I mistake your Game?  Lucett. 
This is a Stranger, I know by his gazing; if he be brisk, he'll venture to follow me; and than if I understand my Trade, he's mine, he's English too; and they say that's a sort of good natured loving People, and have generally so kind an opinion of themselves, that a Woman with any Wit may Flatter 'em into any sort of Fool she pleases.  Blunt. 
'Tis so— she is taken— I have Beauties which my false Glass at home did not discover.  She often passes by Blunt, and gazes on him, he struts and Cocks, and walks and gazes on her. Flor. 
This Woman watches me so, I shall get no opportunity to discover myself to him, and so miss the intent of my coming— but as I was saying, Sir,— by this Line you should be a Lover.  [Looking in his hand. Belu. 
I thought how right you guest, all Men are in Love, or pretend to be so— come let me go, I'm weary of this fooling.  [Walks away. Flor. 
I will not, till you have confessed whether the Passion that you have vowed Florinda, be true or false?  She holds him, he strives to get from her. Belu. 
Florinda!  [Turns quick towards her. Flor. 
Softly.  Belu. 
Thou hast named one will fix me here for ever.  Flor. 
She'll be disappointed then, who expects you this Night at the Garden-gate, and if you fail not— as let me see the other hand— you will go near to do— she vows to die or make you happy.  [Looks on Calais who observes 'em. Belu. 
What canst thou mean?  Flor. 
That which I say— Farewell.  [Offers to go. Belu. 
Oh charming Sibyl stay, complete that joy which as it is will turn into distraction!— where must I be? at the Garden-gate? I know it— at Night you say?— I'll sooner forfeit Heaven than disobey.  Enter Don Pedro and other Masquers, and pass over the Stage. Call. 
Madam, your Brother's here.  Flor. 
Take this to instruct you farther.  [Gives him a Letter, and goes off. Fred. 
Have a care, Sir, what you promise; this may be a Trap laid by her Brother to ruin you.  Belu. 
Do not disturb my happiness with doubts.  [Opens the Letter. Will. 
My dear pretty Creature, a Thousand Blessings on thee! still in this habit you say?— and after Dinner at this place.  Hell. 
Yes, if you will swear to keep your heart, and not bestow it between this and that.  Will. 
By all the little Gods of Love I swear, I'll leave it with you, and if you run away with it, those Deities of Justice will revenge me.  [Ex. all the Women. Fred. 
Do you know the hand?  Belu. 
'Tis Florinda's.  
All Blessings fall upon the virtuous Maid.  Fred. 
Nay, no Idolatry, a sober Sacrifice I'll allow you.  Belu. 
Oh Friends, the welcom'st News! the softest Letter!— nay— you shall all see it! and could you now be serious, I might be made the happiest Man the Sun shines on!  Will. 
The reason of this mighty joy?  Belu. 
See how kindly she invites me to deliver her from the threatened violence of her Brother— will you not assist me?  Will. 
I know not what thou mean'st, but I'll make one at any mischief where a Woman's concerned— but she'll be grateful to us for the favour, will she not?  Belu. 
How mean you?  Will. 
How should I mean? thou know'st there's but one way for a Woman to oblige me.  Belu. 
Do not profane— the Maid is nicely virtuous.  Will. 
Who Pox, then she's fit for nothing but a husband, let her e'en go, Colonel.  Fred. 
Peace, she's the Colonel's Mistress, Sir.  Will. 
Let her be the Devil, if she be thy Mistress, I'll serve her— name the way.  Belu. 
Read here this Postscript.  [Gives him a Letter. Will. 
[Reads.]— Kind Heart, if we Three cannot weave a string to let her down a Garden-Wall, 'twere pity but the Hangman wove one for us all.  At Ten at night— at the Garden-Gate— of which, if I cannot get the Key, I will contrive a way over the Wall— come attended with a Friend or Two. Fred. 
Let her alone for that, your Woman's wit! your fair kind Woman! will out-trick a Broker or a Jew: and contrive like a Jesuit in Chains— but see, Ned Blunt is stolen out after the Lure of a Damsel.  [Ex. Blunt and Lucetta. Belu. 
So, he'll scarce find his way home again, unless we get him cried by the Bellman in the Marketplace, and 'twould sound prettily— a lost English Boy of Thirty.  Fred. 
I hope 'tis some Common crafty Sinner, one that will fit him; it may be she'll fell him for Perue, the Rogue's sturdy, and would work well in a Mine; at least I hope she'll dress him for our Mirth, cheat him of all, then have him well-favourd'ly banged, and turned out Naked at Midnight.  Will. 
Prithee what humour is he of, that you wish him so well?  Belu. 
Why of an English Elder Brother's humour, Educated in a Nursery, with a Maid to tend him till Fifteen, and lies with his Grandmother till he's of Age: one that knows no pleasure beyond riding to the next Fair, or going up to London with his right Worshipful Father in Parliament-time; wearing gay clothes, or making honourable Love to his Lady Mother's Laundry-maid: gets drunk at a Hunting-Match, and ten to one than gives some proofs of his Prowess.— A Pox upon him, he's our Banker, and has all our Cash about him, and if he fail, we are all Broke.  Fred. 
Oh let him alone for that matter, he's of a damned stingey quality, that will secure our stock; I know not in what danger it were indeed if the Jilt should pretend she's in Love with him, for 'tis a kind believing Coxcomb; otherwise if he part with more than a piece of Eight— geld him: for which offer he may chance to be beaten, if she be a Whore of the First Rank.  Belu. 
Nay the Rogue will not be easily beaten, he's stout enough; perhaps if they talk beyond his capacity, he may chance to exercise his Courage upon some of them, else I'm sure they'll find it as difficult to beat as to please him.  Will. 
'Tis a luckey Devil to light upon so kind a Wench!  Fred. 
Thou hadst a great deal of talk with thy little Gipsy, couldst thou do no good upon her? for mine was hard-hearted:  Will. 
Hang her, she was some damned honest Person of Quality I'm sure, she was so very free and witty. If her face be but answerable to her Wit, and humour, I would be bound to Constancy this Month to gain her— in the mean time, have you made no kind acquaintance since you came to Town?— you do not use to be honest so long, Gentlemen.  Fred. 
Faith Love has kept us honest, we have been all fired with a Beauty newly come to Town, the Famous Paduana Angellica Bianca.  Will. 
What the Mistress of the dead Spanish General?  Belu. 
Yes, she's now the only adored Beauty of all the Youth in Naples, who put on all their Charms to appear lovely in her sight, their Coaches, Liveries, and themselves, all gay, as on a Monarch's Birthday, to attract the Eyes of this fair Charmer, while she has the pleasure to behold all languish for her that see her.  Fred. 
'Tis pretty to see with how much Love the Men regard her, and how much Envy the Women.  Will. 
What Gallant has she?  Belu. 
None, she's exposed to Sail, and Four days in the Week she's yours— for so much a Month.  Will. 
The very thought of it quenches all manner of Fire in me— yet prithee let's see her.  Belu. 
Let's first to Dinner, and after that we'll pass the day as you please— but at Night ye must all be at my Devotion.  Will. 
I will not fail you.  
The End of the First Act.    

ACT II.  

Scene I. The Long Street.  Enter Belvile and Frederick in Masking Habits, and Willmore in his own clothes, with a Vizard in his Hand. Will. 
BUt why thus disguised and muzzled?  Belu. 
Because whatever Extravagances we commit in these Faces, our own may not be obliged to answer 'em.  Will. 
I should have changed my Eternal Buff too; but no matter, my little Gipsy would not have found me out then; for if she should change hers, it is impossible I should know her, unless I should hear her prattle.— A Pox on't, I cannot get her out of my Head: Pray Heaven, if ever I do see her again, she prove damnably ugly, that I may fortify myself against her Tongue.  Belu. 
Have a care of Love, for o' my conscience she was not of a quality to give thee any hopes.  Will. 
Pox on 'em, why do they draw a Man in then? She has played with my Heart so, that 'twill never lie still, till I have met with some kind Wench, that will play the Game out with me— Oh for my Arms full of soft, white, kind— Woman! such as I fancy Angelica.  Belu. 
This is her House, if you were but in stock to get admittance; they have not dined yet; I perceive the Picture is not out.  Enter Blunt. Will. 
I long to see the Shadow of the fair Substance; a Man may gaze on that for nothing.  Blunt. 
Coll. Thy Hand— and thine  Fred. 
I have been an Ass, a deluded Fool, a very Coxcomb from my Birth till this hour, and heartily repent my little Faith.  Belu. 
What the Devil's the matter with thee Ned?  
— Oh such a Mrs.  Fred. 
such a Girl!  Will. 
Ha! where.  Fred. 
Ay where!  
So fond, so amorous, so toying and so fine! and all for sheer Love ye Rogue! Oh how she looked and kissed! and soothed my Heart from my Bosom— I cannot think I was awake, and yet methinks I see and feel her charms still—  Fred. 
— Try if she have not left the taste of her Balmey Kisses upon my Lips—  [Kisses him. Belv 
Ha! Ha! Ha!  Will. 
Death Man where is she?  
— What a Dog was I to stay in dull England so long,— How have I laughed at the Coll. When he sighed for Love! but now the little Archer has revenged him! and by this one Dart, I can guests at all his joys, which then I took for Fancies, mere Dreams and Fables.— Well, I'm resolved to sell all in Essex, and plant here for ever.  Belu. 
What a Blessing 'tis, thou hast a Mistress thou dar'st boast of; for I know thy Humour is, rather to have a proclaimed Clap, than a secret Amour.  Will. 
Dost know her Name?  Bluns'. 
Her Name? No, no what care I for Names.— She's fair! young! brisk and kind! even to ravishment! and what a Pox care I for knowing her by any other Title.  Will. 
Didst give her any thing?  Blunt. 
Give her!— Ha, ha, ha! when she's a Person of Quality;— that's a good one, give her! 'sheartlikins dost think such Creatures are to be bought? Or are we provided for such a Purchase? give her quoth ye? Why she presented me with this Bracelet, for the Toy of a Diamond I used to wear: No, Gentlemen, Ned Blunt is not every Body— She expects me again to Night.  Will. 
Egad that's well; we'll all go.  Blunt. 
Not a Soul: No, Gentlemen, you are Wits; I am a dull Country Rogue, I.  Fred. 
Well, Sir, for all your Person of Quality, I shall be very glad to understand your Purse be secure; 'tis our whole Estate at present, which we are loath to hazard in one Bottom; come, Sir, unlade.  Blunt. 
Take the necessary Trifle useless now to me, that am beloved by such a Gentlewoman— 'sheartlikins Money! Here take mine too.  Fred. 
No, keep that to be cozened, that we may laugh.  Will. 
Cozened!— Death! would I could meet with one, that would cozen me of all the Love I could spare to Night.  Fred. 
Pox, 'tis some common Whore upon my life.  Blunt. 
A Whore!— yes with such clothes! such Jewels! such a House! such Furniture, and so Attended! a Whore!  Belu. 
Why yes Sir, they are Whores, tho' they'll neither entertain you with Drinking, Swearing, or Bawdry; are Whores in all those gay clothes, and right Jewels, are Whores with those great Houses richly furnished with Velvet Beds, Store of Plate, handsome Attendance, and fine Coaches, are Whores and Errand ones.  Will. 
Pox on't, where do these fine Whores live?  Belu. 
Where no Rogues in Office Yclept Constables, dare give 'em Laws, nor the Wine Inspired Bullies of the Town, break their Windows; yet they are Whores though this Essex Calf believe 'em Persons of Quality.  Blunt. 
'Sheartlikins, you're all Fools, there are things about this Essex Calf, that shall take with the Ladies, beyond all your Wit and Parts— this Shape and Size Gentlemen are not to be despised— my Waste too tolerably long, with other inviting signs, that shall be nameless.  Will. 
Egad I believe he may have met with some Person of Quality that may be kind to him.  Belu. 
Dost thou perceive any such tempting things about him, that should make a fine Woman, and of Quality, pick him out from all Mankind, to throw away her Youth and Beauty upon, nay and her dear heart too!— no, no, Angellica has raised the Price too high.  Will. 
May she languish for Mankind till she die, and be damned for that one sin alone.  Enter Two Bravoes, and hang up a great Picture of Angellica's, against the Balcone, and Two little ones at each side of the Door. Belu. 
See there the fair Sign to the Inn where a Man may Lodge that's Fool enough to give her price.  [Will. gazes on the Picture. Blunt. 
'Sheartlikins, Gentlemen, what's this!  Belu. 
A Famous Courtesan, that's to be sold.  Blunt. 
How? to be sold! nay then I have nothing to say to her— sold! what Impudence is practised in this Country?— with what Order and decency Whoring Established here by Virtue of the Inquisition— come let's begone, I'm sure we're no Chapmen for this Commodity.  Fred. 
Thou art none I'm sure, unless thou couldst have her in thy Bed at a price of a Coach in the Street.  Will. 
How wondrous fair she is— a Thousand Crowns a Month— by Heaven as many Kingdoms were too little, a plague of this Poverty— of which I ne'er complain, but when it hinders my approach to Beauty: which Virtue ne'er could purchase.  [Turns from the Picture. Blunt. 
What's this?— [Reads.] A Thousand Crowns a Month!  
— 'Sheartlikins here's a Sum! sure 'tis a mistake.  
— Hark you Friend, does she take or give so much by the Month?  Fred. 
A Thousand Crowns! why 'tis a Portion for the Infanta.  Blunt. 
Hark ye Friends, won't she trust?  Brau. 
This is a Trade, Sir, that cannot live by Credit.  Enter Don Pedro in Masquerade, followed by Stephano. Belu. 
See, here's more Company, let's walk off a while.  [Ex. English. [Pedro Reads. Enter Angellica and Moretta in the Balcone, and draw a Silk Curtain. Ped. 
Fetch me a thousand Crowns, I never wished to buy this Beauty at an easier rate.  [passes off. Ang. 
Prithee what said those Fellows to thee?  Brau. 
Madam, the first were admirers of Beauty only, but no purchasers, they were merry with your Price and Picture, laughed at the Sum, and so passed off.  Ang. 
No Matter, I'm not displeased with their rallying; their wonder feeds my vanity, and he that wishes but to buy, gives me more Pride, than he that gives my Price, can make my pleasure.  Brau. 
Madam, the last I knew through all his disguises to be Don Pedro, Nephew to the General, and who was with him in Pampalona.  Ang. 
Don Pedro! my old Gallant's Nephew, when his Uncle died he left him a vast Sum of Money; it is he who was so in love with me at Milan, and who used to make the General so Jealous.  Morett. 
Is this he that used to prance before our Window, and take such care to show himself an Amorous Ass? If I am not mistaken he is the likeliest Man to give your price.  Ang. 
The Man is brave and generous, but of an humour so uneasy and inconstant, that the victory over his heart is as soon lost as won, a Slave that can add little to the Triumph of the Conqueror, but Inconstancy's the sin of all Mankind, therefore I'm resolved that nothing but Gold, shall charm my heart.  Moret. 
I'm glad on't; 'tis only Interest that Women of our profession ought to consider: tho' I wonder what has kept you from that general Disease of our Sex so long, I mean that of being in Love.  Ang. 
A kind, but sullen Star under which I had the happiness to be born; yet I have had no time for Love; the bravest and noblest of Mankind have purchased my favours at so dear a rate, as if no Coin but Gold were currant with our Trade— but here's Don Pedro again, fetch me my Lute— for 'tis for him or Don Antonio the Vice-Roys Son, that I have spread my Nets.  Enter at one Door Don Pedro, Stephano; Don Antonio and Diego at the other Door with People following him in Masquerade, anticly attired, some with Music, they both go up to the Picture. Ant. 
A Thousand Crowns! had not the Painter flattered her, I should not think it dear.  Pedro. 
Flattered her! by Heaven he cannot, I have seen the Original, nor is there one Charm here more than Adorns her Face and Eyes; all this soft and sweet, with a certain languishing Air, that no Artist can represent.  Ant. 
What I heard of her Beauty before had fired my Soul, but this confirmation of it has blown it to a flame.  Pedro. 
Ha!  Page. 
Sir, I have known you throw away a Thousand Crowns on a worse face, and though you're near your Marriage, you may venture a little Love here▪ Florinda will not miss it.  Pedro. 
Ha! Florinda!— sure 'tis Antonio.  [aside. Ant. 
Florinda! name not those distant joys, there's not one thought of her will check my Passion here.  Pedro. 
Florinda scorned! and all my [A noise of a Lute above. hopes defeated, of the Possession of Angelica. [Ant. gazes up. Her Injuries! by Heaven he shall not boast of.  [Song to a Lute above. 

SONG.  

WHen Damon first began to Love  
He languished in a soft desire,  
And knew not how the Gods to move,  
To lessen or increase his Fire.  
For Caelia in her charming Eyes  
Wore all Love's sweets, and all his cruelties.   

II.  
But as beneath a Shade he lay,  
Weaving of Flowers for Caelia's hair,  
She chanced to lead her Flock that way,  
And saw the Amorous Shepherd there.  
She gazed around upon the place,  
And saw the Grove (resembling Night)  
To all the joys of Love invite,  
Whilst guilty smiles and blushes dressed her Face.  
At this the bashful Youth all Transport grew,  
And with kind force he taught the Virgin how  
To yield what all his sighs could never do.    Ant. 
By Heaven she's charming fair!  Angellica throws open the Curtains, and bows to Antonio, who pulls off his Vizard and bows and blows up kisses. Pedro unseen looks in's face. Pedro. 
'Tis he; the false Antonio!  Ant. 
Friend, where must I pay my Offering of Love?  [To the Bravo. 
My Thousand Crowns I mean.  Pedro. 
That Offering I have designed to make.  
And yours will come too late.  Ant. 
Prithee begone, I shall grow angry else.  
And then thou art not safe.  Pedro. 
My Anger may be fatal, Sir, as yours;  
And he that enters here may prove this truth.  Ant. 
I know not who thou art, but I am sure thou'rt worth my killing, for aiming at Angelica.  [They draw and fight. Enter Willmore and Blunt, who draw and part 'em. Blunt. 
'Sheartlikins, here's fine doings.  Will. 
Tilting for the Wench I'm sure— nay gad, if that would win her, I have as good a Sword as the best of ye.— Put up,— put up, and take another time and place, for this is designed for Lovers only.  [They all put up. Pedro. 
We are prevented; dare you meet me to Morrow on the Molo?  
For I've a Title to a better quarrel,  
That of Florinda in whose credulous heart  
Thou'st, made an Interest, and destroyed my hopes.  Ant. 
Dare!  
I'll meet thee there as early as the day.  Pedro. 
We will come thus disguised, that whosoever chance to get the better, he may escape unkown.  Ant. 
It shall be so. [Ex. Pedro and Stephano. Who should this Rival be? unless the English Colonel, of whom I've often heard Don Pedro speak; it must be he, and time he were removed, who lays a claim to all my happiness.  Willmore having gazed all this while on the Picture, pulls down a little one. Will. 
This Posture's loose and negligent,  
The sight on't would beget a warm desire,  
In Souls whom Impotence and Age had chilled.  
— This must along with me.  Brau. 
What means this rudeness, Sir?— restore the Picture.  Ant. 
Ha! Rudeness committed to the fair Angellica!  
— Restore the Picture, Sir—  Will. 
Indeed I will not, Sir.  Ant. 
By Heaven but you shall.  Will. 
Nay, do not show your Sword, if you do, by this dear Beauty— I will show mine too.  Ant. 
What right can you pretend to't?  Will. 
That of Possession which I will maintain— you perhaps have a 1000 Crowns to give for the Original.  Ant. 
No matter, Sir, you shall restore the Picture.  Ang. 
Oh Moretta! what's the matter?  [Ang. and Morett. above. Ant. 
Or leave your life behind,  Will. 
Death! you lie— I will do neither.  Ang. 
Hold, I command you, if for me you Fight.  They Fight, the Spaniards join with Ant. Blunt laying on like mad. They leave off and bow. Will. 
How Heavenly fair she is!— ah Plague of her price.  Ang. 
You Sir in Buff, you that appear a Soldier, that first began this Insolence—  Will. 
'Tis true, I did so, if you call it Insolence for a Man to preserve himself; I saw your Charming Picture and was wounded; quite through my Soul each pointed Beauty ran; and wanting a Thousand Crowns to procure my remedy— I laid this little Picture to my Bosom— which if you cannot allow me, I'll resign.  Ang. 
No you may keep the Trifle.  Ant. 
You shall first ask me leave, and this.  [Fight again as before. Enter Belu. and Fred. who join with the English. Ang. 
Hold! will you ruin me!— Beskey— Sebestian— part'em.—  [The Spaniards are beaten off. Morett. 
Oh Madam, we're undone, a pox upon that rude Fellow, low, he's set on to ruin us: we shall never see good days, till all these fighting poor Rogues are sent to the Galleys.  Enter Belvile, Blunt Fred. and Wilmour with's shirt bloody. Blunt. 
'Sheartlikins, beat me at this sport, and I'll ne'er wear Sword more.  Belu. 
The Devil's in thee for a mad Fellow, thou art always one, at an unluckey Adventure— come let's begone whilst we're safe, and remember these are Spaniards, a sort of People that know how to revenge an Affront.  [Too will. Fred. 
You bleed! I hope you are not wounded.  Will. 
Not much:— a plague on your Dons, if they fight no better they'll ne'er recover Flanders.— what the Devil was't to them that I took down the Picture?  Blunt. 
Took it! 'Sheartlikins we'll have the great one too; 'tis ours by Conquest.— prithee help me up and I'll pull it down—  Ang. 
Stay Sir, and e'er you Affront me farther, let me know how you durst commit this outrage— to you I speak Sir, for you appear a Gentleman.  Will. 
To me, Madam— Gentlemen your Servant.  Belu. stays him. Belu. 
Is the Devil in thee? dost know the danger of entering the house of an incensed Courtesan?  Will. 
I thank you for your care— but there are other matters in hand, there are, though we have no great Temptation— Death! let me go.  Fred. 
Yes to your Lodging if you will, but not in here.  
— Damn these Gay Harlots— by this hand I'll have as sound and handsome a Whore, for a Patacoone,— death Man, she'll Murder thee.  Will. 
Oh! fear me not, shall I not venture where a Beauty calls? a lovely Charming Beauty! for fear of danger! when by Heaven there's none so great, as to long for her, whilst I want Moto purchase her.  Pedro. 
Therefore 'tis loss of time unless you had the Thousand Crowns to pay.  Will. 
It may be she may give a Favour, at least I shall have the pleasure of Saluting her when I enter, and when I depart.  Belu. 
Pox, she'll as soon lie with thee, as kiss thee, and sooner stab than do either— you shall not go.  Ang. 
Fear not Sir, all I have to wound with is my Eyes.  Blunt. 
Let him go, 'Sheartlikins, I believe the Gentlewoman means well.  Belu. 
Well take thy Fortune, we'll expect you in the next Street— farewell Fool— Farewell—  Will. 
‛ Buy Colonel—  [Goes in. Fred. 
The Rogue's stark mad for a Wench.  [Exeunt.  

SCENE. A fine Chamber.  Enter Willmore, Angelica and Moretta. Ang. 
Insolent Sir, how durst you pull down my Picture?  Will. 
Rather, how durst you set it up, to tempt poor Amorous▪ Mortals with so much excellence? which I find you have but too well consulted by the unmerciful price you set upon't.— Is all this Heaven of Beauty shown to move despair in those that cannot buy? and can you think th' effects of that despair, should be less extravagant than I have shown?  Ang. 
I sent for you to ask my Pardon Sir, not to Aggravate your Crime— I thought I should have seen you at my Feet imploring it.  Will. 
You are deceived, I came to rail at you, and rail such truths too, as shall let you see, the vanity of that Pride, which taught you how, to set such Price on Sin. For such it is, whilst that which is Love's due. is meanly bartered for.  Ang. 
Ha! ha! ha! alas good Captain, what pity 'tis your edifying Doctrine will do no good upon me— Moretta! fetch the Gentleman a Glass, and let him survey himself. To see what Charms he has— and guess my business.  [Aside, in a soft tone. Morett. 
He knows himself of Old, I believe those Breeches and he have been acquainted ever since he was beaten at Worcester.  Ang. 
Nay do not abuse the poor Creature—  Morett. 
Good Wether beaten Corporal, will you march off? we have no need of your Doctrine, tho' you have of our Charity, but at present we have no scraps, we can afford no kindness for God's sake; in fine Sirrah, the price is too high i'th' Mouth for you, therefore Troop I say.  Will. 
Here good Fore-Woman of the Shop serve me, and I'll be gone.  Morett. 
Keep it to pay your Landress, your Linen stinks of the Gun Room; for here's no selling by Retail.  Will. 
Thou hast sold plenty of thy Stale. Ware at a Cheap rate.  Morett. 
Ay the more Silly kind Heart I, but this is an Age wherein Beauty is at higher rates— In fine you know the price of this.  Will. 
Igrant you 'tis here— set down a Thousand Crowns a Month— pray how much may come to my Share for a Pistol.— Bawd take your black Lead and Sum it up, that I may have a Pistols worth of this vain gay things, and I'll trouble you no more.  Morett. 
Pox on him he'll fret me to death:— abominable Fellow, I tell thee, we only sell by the whole piece.  Will. 
'Tis very hard, the whole Cargo or nothing— Faith Madam, my Stock will not reach it, I cannot be your Chapman— Yet I have Country Men in Town, Merchants of Love like me; I'll see if they'll put in for a share, we cannot lose much by it, and what we have no use for, we'll sell upon the Frydays Mart at— Who gives more? I am studying Madam how to purchase you, tho' at present I am unprovided of Money.  Ang. 
Sure this from any other Man would anger me— nor shall he know the Conquest he has made— poor angry Man, how I despise this railing.  Will. 
Yes, I am poor— but I'm a Gentleman,  
And one that Scorns this baseness which you practice;  
Poor as I am, I would not sell myself,  
No not to gain your Charming high prized Person.  
Tho' I admire you strangely for your Beauty,  
Yet I contemn your mind.  
— And yet I would at any rate enjoy you,  
At your own rate— but cannot— see here  
The only Sum I can command on Earth;  
I know not where to eat when this is gone.  
Yet such a Slave I am to Love and Beauty  
This last reserve I'll sacrifice to enjoy you.  
— Nay do not frown, I know you're to be bought,  
And would be bought by me, by me,  
For a mean trifling sum if I could pay it down  
Which happy knowledge I will still repeat,  
And lay it to my Heart, it has a Virtue in't,  
And soon will cure those Wounds your Eyes have made.  
— And yet— there's something so Divinely powerful there—  
Nay I will gaze— to let you see my strength.  [Holds her, looks on her, and pawses and sighs. 
— By Heaven bright Creature— I would not for the World  
Thy Fame were half so fair, as is thy Face.  Turns her away from him. Ang. 
His words go through me to the very Soul.  [Aside. 
— If you have nothing else to say to me—  Will. 
Yes, you shall hear how Infamous you are—  
For which I do not hate thee—  
But that secures my heart, and all the Flames it feels  
Are but so many Lusts—  
I know it by their sudden bold Intrusion.  
The Fire's impatient and betrays, 'tis false—  
For had it been the purer flame of Love,  
I should have pined and languished at your feet,  
ere found the impudence to have discovered it.  
I now dare stand your scorn, and your denial.  Monet. 
Sure she's bewitch, that she can stand thus tamely and hear his saucy railing— Sirrah, will you be gone?  Ang. 
How dare you take this Liberty?— withdraw. [To Mor.— Pray tell me, Sir, are not you guilty of the same Mercenary Crime,  
When a Lady is proposed to you for a Wife, you never ask, how fair— discreet— or virtuous she is; but what's her Fortune— which if but small, you cry— she will not do my business— and basely leave her, thou she languish for you— say, is not this as poor?  Will. 
It is Barbarous Custom, which I will scorn to defend in our Sex, and do despise in yours.  Ang. 
Thou'rt a brave Fellow! put up thy Gold, and know,  
That were thy Fortune large as is thy Soul,  
Thou shouldst not buy my Love,  
couldst thou forget those mean effects of vanity  
Which set me out to sale, and, as a Lover, prize my yielding joys.  
Canst thou believe they'll be entirely thine,  
Without considering they were Mercenary?  Will. 
I cannot tell, I must bethink me first— ha— death I'm going to believe her.  [Aside. Ang. 
Prithee confirm that faith— or if thou canst not— flatter me a little, 'twill please me from thy mouth.  Will. 
Curse on thy charming Tongue! dost thou return  
My feigned contempt with so much subtlety?  [Aside. 
Thou'st found the easiest way into my heart,  
Tho I yet know, that all thou sayst is false.  [Turning from her in Rage. Ang. 
By all that's good 'tis real,  
I never loved before, though oft a Mistress.  
— Shall my first Vows be slighted?  Will. 
What can she mean?  [Aside. Ang. 
I find you cannot credit me.—  [In an angry tone. Will. 
I know you take me for an errand Ass,  
An Ass that may be soothed into belief,  
And then be used at pleasure;  
— But, Madam, I have been so often cheated  
By perjured soft deluding Hypocrites,  
That I've no faith left for the cozening Sex;  
Especially for Women of your Trade.  Ang. 
The low esteem you have of me, perhaps  
May bring my heart again:  
For I have pride, that yet surmounts my Love.  [She turns: with pride he holds her. Will. 
Throw off this Pride, this Enemy to Bliss,  
And show the Power of Love: 'tis with those Arms  
I can be only vanquished, made a Slave.  Ang. 
Is all my mighty expectation vanished?  
— No, I will not hear thee talk— thou hast a Charm  
In every word that draws my heart away.  
And all the Thousand Trophies I designed  
Thou hast undone— Why art thou soft?  
Thy looks are bravely rough, and meant for War.  
Couldst thou not storm on still?  
I then perhaps had been as free as thou.  Will. 
Death, how she throws her Fire about my Soul!  [Aside. 
— Take heed, fair Creature, how you raise my hopes,  
Which once assumed pretends to all dominion.  
There's not a joy thou hast in store,  
I shall not then Command.  
— For which I'll pay thee back my Soul! my Life!  
— Come, let's begin th' account this happy minute!  Ang. 
And will you pay me then the price I ask?  Will. 
Oh why dost thou draw me from an awful Worship,  
By showing thou art no Divinity.  
Conceal the Fiend, and show me all the Angel!  
Keep me but ignorant, and I'll be devout  
And pay my Vows for ever at this shrine.  [Kneels and kisses her hand. Ang. 
The pay, I mean, is but thy Love for mine.  
— Can you give that?  Will. 
Entirely— come, let's withdraw! where I'll renew my Vows— and breathe 'em with such Ardour thou shalt not doubt my zeal.  Ang. 
Thou hast a Power too strong to be resisted.  [Ex. Will. and Angellica. Moret. 
Now my Curse go with you— is all our Project fallen to this? to love the only Enemy to our Trade? nay, to love such a Shameroone, a very Beggar, nay a Pirate Beggar, whose business is to rifle, and be gone, a no Purchase, no Pay Taterdemalion, and English Piccaroon.  
A Rogue that fights for daily drink, and takes a Pride in being Loyally Lousy— Oh I could curse now, if I durst.— This is the Fate of most Whores.  

Trophies, which from believing Fops we win,  
Are Spoils to those who cozen us again.   
The End of the Second ACT.    

ACT III.  

Scene I. A Street.  Enter Florinda, Valeria, Helena, in Antic different Dresses, from what they were in before. Calais attending. Flor. 
I Wonder what should make my Brother in so ill a humour? I hope he has not found out our Ramble this Morning.  Hell. 
No, if he had, we should have heard on't at both Ears, and have been Mewed up this Afternoon; which I would not for the World should have happened— hay ho, I'm as sad as a Lover's Lute.—  Vall▪ 
Well, methinks we have learned this Trade of Gipsies as readily, as if we had been bred upon the Road to Loretta: and yet I did so fumble, when I told the stranger his Fortune, that I was afraid I should have told my own and yours by mistake— but, methinks Helena has been very serious ever since.  Flor. 
I would give my Garters she were in Love, to be revenged upon her, for abusing me— how is't, Helena?  Hell. 
Ah— would I had never seen my mad Monsieur— and yet for all your laughing, I am not in Love— and yet this small acquaintance o' my Conscience will never out of my head.  Val. 
Ha, ha, ha— I laugh to think how thou art fitted with a Lover, a fellow that I warrant loves every new Face he sees.  Hell. 
Hum— he has not kept his word with me here— and may be taken up— that thought is not very pleasant to me— what the Deuce should this be now, that I feel?  Val. 
What is't like?  Hell. 
Nay, the Lord knows— but if I should be hanged, I cannot choose, but be angry and afraid, when I think, that mad Fellow should be in Love with any Body but me— what to think of myself, I know not— would I could meet with some true damned Gipsy, that I might know my Fortune.  Val. 
Know it! why there's nothing so easy, thou wilt love this wandering Inconstant, till thou findest thyself hanged about his Neck, and then be as mad to get free again.  Flor. 
Yes, Valeria, we shall see her bestride his Baggage Horse, and follow him to the campaign.  Hell. 
So, so, now you are provided for, there's no care taken of poor me— but since you have set my heart a wishing— I am resolved to know for what, I will not die of the Pip, so I will not.  Flor. 
Art thou mad to talk so? who will like thee well enough to have thee, that, hears what a mad Wench thou art?  Hell. 
Like me! I don't intent every he that likes me shall have me, but he that I like; I should have stayed in the Nunnery still, if I had liked my Lady Abbess as well as she liked me— no, I came thence not (as my wise Brother imagines) to take an Eternal Farewell of the World, but to Love, and to be beloved, and I will be beloved, or I'll get one of your Men, so I will.  Val. 
Am I put into the number of Lovers?  Hell. 
You? why Cousin, I know thou'rt too good natured to leave us in any design: thou woued venture a Cast, though thou comest off a loser, especially with such a Gamester.— I observe your Man, and your willing Ear incline that way; and if you are not a Lover, 'tis an Art soon learned— that I find.  [Sighs. Flor. 
I wonder how you learned to Love so easily, I had a 1000 Charms to meet my Eyes and Ears, ere I could yield, and 'twas the knowedge of Belvile's merit, not the surprising Person took my Soul— thou art too rash to give a heart at first sight.  Hell. 
Hang your considering Lover; I never thought beyond the fancy that 'twas a very pretty, idle, silly, kind of pleasure to pass one's time with, to write little soft. Nonsensical Billiets, and with great difficulty and danger receive Answers; in which I shall have my Beauty praised, my Wit admired, (though little or none) and have the vanity and power to know I am desirable; then I have the more inclination that way, because I am to be a Nun, and so shall not be suspected to have any such Earthly thoughts about me— but when I walk thus— and sigh thus— they'll think my mind's upon my Monastery, and cry how happy 'tis she's so resolved.  
— But not word of Man.  Flor. 
What a mad Creature's this?  Hell. 
I'll warrant, if my Brother hears either of you sigh, he cries (gravely)— I fear you have the indiscretion to be in Love, but take heed of the Honour of our House, and your own unspotted Fame, and so he Conjures on till he has laid the soft winged God in your Hearts, or broke the Birds Nest— but see here comes your Lover, but where's my Inconstant? let's step aside, and we may learn something.  [Go aside. Enter Belvile Fred. and Blunt. Belu. 
What means this! the Picture's taken in.  Blunt. 
It may be the Wench is good Natured, and will be kind Gratis. Your Friend's a proper handsome Fellow.  Belu. 
I rather think she has cut his Throat and is fled: I am mad he should throw himself into dangers— pox on't I shall want him too at Night— let's knock and ask for him.  Hell. 
My Heart goes a pit, a pat, for fear 'tis my Man they talk off.  [Knock, Moretta above. Morett. 
What would you have!  Bel. 
Tell the stranger that entered here about two hours ago, that his Friends stay here for him.  Morett. 
A Curse upon him for Moretta, would he were at the Devil— but he's coming to you.  Hell. 
ay, I, 'tis he! Oh how this vexes me.  Bel. 
And how and how dear Lad, has Fortune smiled! are we to break her Windows! or raise up altars to her. hah!  Will. 
Does not my Fortune sit Triumphant on my Brow! dost not see the little wanton God there all gay and smiling. Have I not an Air about my Face and Eyes, that distinguish me from the Crowed of common Lovers! By Heaven Cupid's Quiver has not half so many Darts as her Eyes!— Oh such a Bona Roba! to sleep in her Arms is lying in Fresco, all perfumed Air about me.  Hell. 
Here's fine encouragement for me to fool on.  [Aside. Will. 
Hark'ey where didst thou purchase that rich Canary we drank to day! tell me that I may Adore the Spigot, and Sacrifice to the Butt! the Juice was Divine! into which I must dip my Rosary, and then bless all things that I would have bold or Fortunate.  Belu. 
Well Sir, let's go take a Bottle, and hear the story of your Success.  Fred. 
Would not Frenoh Wine do better.  Will. 
Damn the hungry Balderdash, cheerful Sack has a generous Virtue in't inspiring a successful confidence, gives Eloquence to the Tongne! and vigour to the Soul! and has in a few hours completed all my hopes and wishes! There's nothing left to raise a new desire in me— come let's be gay and wanton— and Gentlemen study, study what you want, for here are Friends,— that will supply Gentlemen,— hark! what a Charming sound they make— 'tis he and the Gold whilst here, and shall beget new pleasures every Moment.  Blunt. 
But heark'ey Sir, you are not Married are you?  Will. 
All the honey of Matrimony, but none of the sting Friend.  Blunt. 
'Sheartlikins thou'rt a Fortunate Rogue!  Will. 
I am so Sir, let these— inform you!— ha how sweetly they Chime!— pox of Poverty it makes a Man a slave, makes Wit and Honour sneak, my Soul grew lean and rusty for want of credit.  Blunt. 
'Sheartlikins this I like well, it looks like my lucky Bargain! Oh how I long for the approach of my Squire, that is to conduct me to her House again when— here's two provided for.  Fred. 
By this light y' are happy Men.  Blunt. 
Fortune is pleased to smile on us Gentlemen— to smile on us.  Enter Sancho and pulls down Blunt by the sleeve. Sancho. 
Sir my Lady expects [They go aside. you— she has removed all that might oppose your will and pleasure— and is impatient till you come.  Blunt. 
Sir I'll attend you— oh the happiest Rogue! I'll take no leave, lest they either dog me, or stay me.  [Ex. with Sancho. Belu. 
But then the little Gipsy is forgot?  Will. 
A mischief on thee for putting her into my thoughts I had quite forgot her else, and this Night's debauch had drunk her quite down.  Hell. 
Had it so good Captain!  [Claps him on the Back. Will. 
Ha! I hope she did not hear me.  [Aside. Hell. 
What afraid of such a Champion?  Will. 
Oh! you're a fine Lady of your word, are you not? to make a Man languish a whole day—▪  Hell. 
In tedious search of me.  Will. 
Egad Child thou'rt in the right, hadst thou seen what a Melancholy Dog I have been ever since I was a Lover, how I have walked the streets like a Capuchin with my Hands in my Sleeves— Faith sweet Heart thou wouldst pity me.  Hell. 
Now if I should be hanged I can't be angry with him he dissembles so Heartily— alas good Captain what pains you have taken— now were I ungrateful not to reward so true a Servant.  Will. 
Poor Soul! that's kindly said, I see thou barest a Conscience— come then for a beginning show me thy dear Face.  Hell. 
I'm afraid, my small acquaintance, you have been staying that swinging Stomach you boasted of this Morning; I then remember my little Collation would have gone down with you, without the Sauce of a handsome Face— is your Stomach so queasiy now?  Will. 
Faith long fasting Child, spoils a Man's Appetite— yet if you durst treat, I could so lay about me still—  Hell. 
And would you fall to, before a Priest says Grace?  Will. 
Oh 〈◊〉, what an Old out of fashioned thing hast thou named? thou cou'st not dash me more out of Countenance shouldst thou show me an ugly Face.  [Whilst he is seemingly Courting Helena. Enter Angellica Moretta Biskey and Sebastian all in Masquerade, Ang. sees Will. and stares. Ang. 
Heaven's 'tis he! and passionately fond to see another Woman.  Morett. 
What could you less expect from such a swaggerer?  Ang. 
Expect! as much as I paid him, a Heart entire  
Which I had Pride enough to think when 'ere I gave,  
It would have raised the Man above the Vulgar  
Made him all Soul! and that all soft and constant.  Hell. 
You see Captain, how willing I am to be Friends with you, till time and ill luck make us Lovers, and ask you the Question first, rather than put your Modesty to the blush, by asking me (for alas!) I know you Captains are such strict Men and such severe observers of your Vows to Chastity, that 'twill be hard to prevail with your tender Conscience to Marry a young willing Maid.  Will. 
Do not abuse me, for fear I should take thee at thy word, and Marry thee indeed, which I'm sure will be revenge sufficient.  Hell. 
O' my Conscience, that will be our Destiny, because we are both of one humour; I am as inconstant as you, for I have considered, Captain, that a handsome Woman has a great deal to do whilst her Face is good, for than is our Harvest-time to gather Friends; and should I in these days of my Youth, catch a fit of foolish Constancy, I were undone; 'tis loitering by daylight in our great Journey: therefore I declare, I'll allow but one year for Love, one year for indifference, and one year for hate— and then— go hang yourself— for I profess myself the gay, the kind, and the Inconstant— the Devil's in't if this won't please you.  Will. 
Oh most damnably— I have a heart with a hole quite through it too, no Prison mine to keep a Mistress in.  Ang. 
Perjured Man! how I believe thee now.  [aside. Hell. 
Well, I see our business as well as humours are a like, yours to cozen as many Maids as will trust you, and I as many Men as have Faith— see if I have not as desperate a lying look, as you can have for the heart of you.  [Pulls off her Vizard: he starts. 
— How do you like it Captain?  Will. 
Like it! by Heaven, I never saw so much beauty! Oh the Charms of those sprightly black Eyes! that strangely fair Face! full of smiles and dimples! those soft round melting Cherry Lips! and small even white Teeth! not to be expressed, but silently adored!— oh one look more! and strike me dumb, or I shall repeat nothing else till I'm mad.  [He seems to Court her to pull off her Vizard: she refuses. Ang. 
I can endure no more— nor is it fit to interrupt him, for if I do, my Jealousy has so destroyed my Reason,— I shall undo him— therefore I'll retire— and you, Sebastian, [To one of her Bravoes. follow that Woman, and learn who 'tis; while you tell the Fugitive, I would speak to him instantly.  [To the other Bravo. [Exit. This while Flor. is talking to Belvile, who stands sullenly. Fred. courting Valeria. Val. 
Prithee, dear stranger, be not so sullen, for though you have lost your Love, you see my Friend frankly offers you hers to play with in the mean time.  Belu. 
Faith Madam, I am sorry I can't play at her Game.  Fred. 
Pray leave your Intercession, and mind your own Affair, they'll better agree apart; he's a modest sigher in Company, but alone no Woman 'scape him.  Flor. 
Sure he does but rally— yet if it should be true— I'll tempt him farther— believe me, Noble Stranger, I'm no common Mistress— and for a little proof on't— wear this Jewel— nay, take it, Sir, 'tis right, and Bills of Exchange may sometimes miscarry.  Belu. 
Madam, why am I chose out of all Mankind to be the Object of your Bounty?  Val. 
There's another civil Question asked.  Fr. 
Pox of's Modesty, it spoils his own Markets & hinders mine.  Flor. 
Sir, from my Window I have often seen you, and Women of my Quality have so few opportunities for Love, that we ought to lose none.  Fred. 
Ay, this is something! here's a Woman!— when shall I be blessed with so much kindness from your fair Mouth?— take the Jewel, Fool.  [aside to Belu. Belu. 
You tempt me strangely Madam every way—  Flor. 
So, if I find him false, my whole Repose is gone.  [Aside. Belu. 
And but for a Vow I've made to a very Lady, this goodness had subdued me.  Fred. 
Pox on't be kind, in pity to me be kind, for I am to thrive here but as you treat her Friend.  Hell. 
Tell me what you did in yonder House, and I'll unmasque.  Will. 
Yonder House— oh— I went to— a— to— why there's a Friend of mine lives there.  Hell. 
What a She, or a He Friend?  Will. 
A Man upon Honour! a Man— a She Friend— no, no Madam you have done my business I thank you.  Hell. 
And wast your Man Friend, that had more Darts in's Eyes, than Cupid carries in's whole Budget of Arrows.  Will. 
So—  Hell. 
Ah such a Bona Roba! to be in her Arms is lying in Fresco, all perfumed Air about me— was this your Man Friend too?  Will. 
So—  Hell. 
That gave you the He, and the She Gold, that begets young pleasures?  Will. 
Well, well Madam, than you see there are Ladies in the World, that will not be cruel— there are Madam there are—  Hell. 
And there be Men too, as fine, wild Inconstant Fellows as yourself, there be Captain there be, if you go to that now— therefore I'm resolved—  Will. 
Oh!—  Hell. 
To see your Face no more—  Will. 
Oh!  Hell. 
Till to morrow.  Will. 
Egad you frighted me.  Hell. 
Nor then neither, unless you'll swear never to see that Lady more.  Will. 
See her!— when never to think of Woman kind again.  Hell. 
Kneel,— and swear—  [Kneels, she gives him her hand. Will. 
I do never to think— to see— to Love— nor Lie— with any but thyself.  Hell. 
Kiss the Book.  Will. 
Oh most Religiously.  [Kisses her hand. Hell. 
Now what a wicked Creature am I, to damn a proper Fellow.  Call. 
Madam, I'll stay no longer, 'tis e'en dark.  [To Flor. Flor. 
How ever Sir, I'll leave this with you— that when I'm gone, you may repent the opportunity you have lost, by your Modesty.  Gives him the jewel which is her Picture, and Ex. he gazes after her. Will. 
'Twill be an Age till to Morrow,— and till than I will most impatiently expect you— Adieu my Dear pretty Angel.  [Ex. all the Women. Belu. 
Ha! Florinda's Picture— 'twas she herself— what a dull Dog was I? I would have given the World for one minute's discourse with her—  Fred. 
This comes of your modesty!— ah pox o' your vow, 'twas ten to one, but we had lost the Jewel by't.  Belu. 
Willmore! the blessedest opportunity lost! Florinda! Friends! Florinda!  Will. 
Ah Rogue! such black Eyes! such a Face! such a Mouth! such Teeth— and so much Wit!—  Belu. 
All, all, and a Thousand Charms besides.  Will. 
Why dost thou know her?  Belu. 
Know her! Ay, Ay, and a pox take me with all my Heart for being Modest.  Will. 
But hearkey Friend of mine, are you my Rival? and have I been only beating the Bush all this while?  Belu. 
I understand thee not— I'm mad— see here—  [Shows the Picture. Will. 
Ha! whose Picture's this!— 'tis a fine Wench!  Fred. 
The Colonels Mrs. Sir.  Will. 
Oh oh here— I thought 'thad been another prize— come, come, a Bottle will set thee right again.  [Gives the Picture back. Belu. 
I am content to try, and by that time 'twill be late enough for our design.  Will. 
Agreed.  
Love does all day the Souls great Empire keep,  
But Wine at night Lulls the soft God asleep.  Exeunt.  

SCENE the II. Lucetta's House.  Enter Blunt and Lucetta with a Light. Luc. 
Now we are safe and free; no fears of the coming home of my Old Jealous Husband, which made me a little thoughtful when you came in first— but now Love is all the business of my Soul.  Blunt. 
I am transported!— pox on't, that I had but some fine things to say to her, such as Lovers use,— I was a Fool not to learn of Fred. a little by heart before I came— something I must say— [Aside. ' Sheartlikins sweet Soul! I am not used to Compliment, but I'm an honest Gentleman, and thy humble Servant.  Luc. 
I have nothing to pay for so great a Favour, but such a Love as cannot but be great, since at first sight of that sweet Face and Shape, it made me your absolute Captive.  Blunt. 
Kind heart! how prettily she talks! Egad I'll show her Husband a Spanish trick; send him out of the World and Marry her: she's damnably in Love with me, and will ne'er mind Settlements, and so there's that saved.  [Aside. Luc. 
Well Sir, I'll go and undress me, and be with you instantly.  Blunt. 
Make haste then, for adshartilikins dear Soul thou canst not guests at the pain of a longing Lover; when his joys are drawn within the compass of a few Minute's.  Luc. 
You speak my sense, and I'll make haste to prove it.  [Ex. Blunt. 
'Tis a rare Girl! and this one Night's enjoyment with her, will be worth all the days I ever past in Essex.— would she would go with me into England; tho' to say truth there's plenty of Whores already.— But a Pox on 'em they are such Mercenary— Prodigal Whores, that they want such a one as this, that's Free and Generous to give 'em good Examples— When what a house she has, how rich and fine!  Sancho. 
Sir, my Lady has sent me to conduct you to her Chamber.  [Enter Sancho. Blunt. 
Sir, I shall be proud to follow— here's one of her Servants too! 'Sheartlikins by this garb and gravity, he might be a Justice of Peace in Essex, and is but a Pimp here.  [Exeunt. The Scene Changes to a Chamber with an Alcove Bed in't, a Table, etc. Lucetta in Bed. Enter Sancho and Blunt, who takes the Candle of Sancho at the Door. Sancho. 
Sir, my Commission reaches no farther.  Blunt. 
Sir I'll excuse your Compliment— what in Bed my sweet Mistress.  Luc. 
You see, I still outdo you in kindness.  Blunt. 
And thou shalt see what haste I'll make to quit scores— oh the luckiest Rogue!  [He undresses himself. Luc. 
Should you be false or cruel now!—  Blunt. 
False! 'Sheartlikins, what dost thou take me for? A jew? an insensible heathen— a Pox of thy Old Jealous Husband, an he were dead, Egad, sweet Soul, it should be none of my fault, if I did not Marry thee.  Luc. 
It never should be mine.  Blunt. 
Good Soul! I'm the fortunatest Dog!  Luc. 
Are you not undest yet?  Blunt. 
As much as my impatience will permit.  [Goes towards the Bed in his shirt, Drawers. Luc. 
Hold, Sir, put out the Light, it may betray us else.  Blunt. 
Any thing, I need no other Light, but that of thine Eyes!— 'Sheartlikins, there I think I had it. [Puts out the Candle, the Bed descends, he groaps about to find it.— When— when— where am I got? what not yet?— where are you sweetest?— ah, the Rogue's silent now— a pretty Love-trick this— how she'll laugh at me anon!— you need not, my dear Rogue! you need not!— I'm all on fire already— come, come, now call me in pity.— Sure I'm Enchanted! I have been round the Chamber, and can find neither Woman, nor Bed— I locked the Door, I'm sure she cannot go that way— or if she could, the Bed could not— Enough, enough, my pretty wanton, do not carry the jest too far— ha, Betrayed! Dogs! Rogues! Pimps!— help! help!  [Lights on a Trap, and is let down. Enter Lucetta, Philippo, and Sancho with a Light. Phill. 
Ha, ha, ha, he's dispatch finely.  Luc. 
Now, Sir, had I been Coy, we had missed of this Booty.  Phill. 
Nay, when I saw 't was a substantial Fool, I was mollified; but when you dote upon a Serenading Coxcomb, upon a Face, fine clothes, and a Lute, it makes me rage.  Luc. 
You know I was never guilty of that Folly, my dear Philippo; but with yourself— but come, let's see what we have got by this.  Phill. 
A rich Coat!— Sword and Hat— these Breeches too— are well lined— see here, a Gold Watch!— a Purse— ha!— Gold!— at least Two Hundred Pistols!— a bunch of Diamond Rings! and one with the Family Arms!— a Gold Box!— with a Medal of his King! and his Lady Mother's Picture!— these were Sacred Relics, believe me!— see, the Wasteband of his Breeches have a Mine of Gold!— Old Queen Besse's, we have a quarrel to her ever since Eighty Eight, and may therefore justify the Theft, the Inquisition might have committed it.  Luc. 
— See, a Bracelet of bowed Gold! these his Sisters tied about his Arm at parting— but well— for all this, I fear his being a Stranger, may make a noise and hinder our Trade with them hereafter.  Phill. 
That's our security; he is not only a Stranger to us, but to the Country too— the Common Shoar into which he is descended, thou know'st conducts him into another Street, which this Light will hinder him from ever finding again— he knows neither your Name, nor that of the Street where you House is, nay nor the way to his own Lodgings.  Luc. 
And art not thou an unmerciful Rogue! not to afford him one Night for all this?— I should not have been such a jew.  Phill. 
Blame me not, Lucetta, to keep as much of thee as I can to myself— come, that thought makes me wanton!— let's to Bed!— Sancho, lock up these.  

This is the Fleece which Fools do bear,  
Designed for witty Men to shear.   [Exeunt. The Scene changes, and discovers Blunt, creeping out of a Common-Shoar, his Face, etc. all dirty. Blunt. 
Oh Lord! [Climbing up. I am got out at last, and (which is a Miracle) without a Clue— and now to Damning and Cursing!— but if that would ease me, where shall I begin? with my Fortune, myself, or the Quean that cozened me— what a Dog was I to believe in Woman? oh Coxcomb!— Ignorant conceited Coxcomb! to fancy she could be enamoured with my Person! at first sighed enamoured!— oh, I'm a cursed Puppy! 'tis plain, Fool was writ upon my Forehead! she perceived it!— saw the Essex-Calf there— for what Allurements could there be in this Countenance? which I can endure, because I'm acquainted with it— oh, dull silly Dog! to be thus soothed into a Cozening! had I been drunk, I might fondly have credited the young Quean!— but as I was in my right Wits, to be thus cheated, confirms it I am a dull believing English Country Fop— but my Comrades! death and the Devil! there's the worst of all— then a Ballad will be Sung to Morrow on the Prado, to a Lousy Tune of the Enchanted 'Squire, and the Annihilated Damsel— but Fred. that Rogue! and the Colonel, will abuse me beyond all Christian patience— had she left me my Clothes, I have a Bill of Exchange at home, would have saved my Credit— but now all hope is taken from me— well, I'll home (if I can find the way) with this Consolation, that I am not the first kind believing Coxcomb; but there are Gallants many such good Natures amongst ye.  
And though you've better Arts to hide your Follies,  
Adsheartlikins y' are all as errand Cullies.   

SCENE, the Garden in the Night.  Enter Florinda in an undress, with a Key and a little Box. Flor. 
Well, thus far I'm in my way to happiness; I have got myself free from Calais; my Brother too I find by yonder light is got into his Cabinet, and thinks not of me; I have by good Fortune, got the Key of the Garden backdoor.— I'll open it to prevent Belvile's knockin— a little noise will now Alarm my Brother. Now am I as fearful as a young Thief. [Unlocks the door.— hark— what noise is that— oh, 'twas the Wind that played amongst the Boughs— Belvile stays long, methinks— it's time— stay— for fear of a surprise— I'll hide these Jewels in yonder Jessamin.  [She goes to lay down the Box. Enter Willmore drunk. Will 
What the Devil is become of these fellows, Belvile and Frederick, they promised to stay at the next Corner for me, but who the Devil knows the Corner of a Full Moon— now— whereabouts am I!— hah— what have we here a Garden!— a very convenient place to sleep in— hah— what has God sent us here!— a Female!— by this Light a Woman!— I'm a Dog if it be not a very Wench!—  Flor. 
He's come!— hah— who's there?  Will. 
Sweet Soul! let me salute thy Shoestring.  Flor. 
'Tis not my Belvile.— good Heavens! I know him not— who are you, and from whence come you?  Will. 
Prithee— prithee Child— not so many hard questions— let it suffice I am here Child— come, come kiss me.  Flor. 
Good Gods! what luck is mine?  Will. 
Only good luck Child, perilous good luck— come hither,— 'tis a delicate shining Wench— by this hand she's perfumed, and smells like any Nosegay— prithee dear Soul, let's not play the Fool, and lose time— precious time— for as Gad shall save me I'm as honest a Fellow as breaths, tho' I'm a little disguised at present— come I say— when thou may'st be free with me, I'll be very secret. I'll not boast who 'twas obliged me, not I— for hang me if I know thy name.  Flor. 
Heavens! what a filthy Beast is this?  Will. 
I am so, and thou ought'st the sooner to lie with me for that reason— for look you Child, there will be no sin in't, because 'twas neither designed nor premeditated. 'Tis pure Accident on both sides— that's a certain thing now— indeed should I make Love to you, and you vow fidelity— and swear and lie till you believed and yielded— that were to make it wilful Fornication— the crying Sin of the Nation— thou art therefore (as thou art a good Christian) obliged in Conscience to deny me nothing. Now— come be kind without any more idle prating.  Flor. 
Oh I am ruined— Wicked Man unhand me.  Will. 
Wicked!— Egad Child a Judge were he young and vigorous, and saw those Eyes of thine, would know 'twas they gave the first blow— the first provocation— come prithee let's lose no time, I say— this is a fine convenient place.  Flor. 
Sir, let me go, I conjure you, or I'll call out.  Will. 
Ay, Ay, you were best to call Witness to see how finely you treat me— do—  Flor. 
I'll cry Murder! Rape! or any thing! if you do not instantly let me go.  Will. 
A Rape! Come, come, you lie you Baggage, you lie, what, I'll warrant you would fain have the World believe now that you are not so forward as I. No, not you— why at this time of Night was your Cobweb Door set open dear Spider— but to catch Flies?— Ha— come— or I shall be damnably angry.— When what a coil is here—  Flor. 
Sir, can you think—  Will. 
That you would do't for nothing— oh, oh I find what you would be at— look here, here's a Pistol for you— here's a work indeed— here— take it I say—  Flor. 
For heavens' sake Sir, as you're a Gentleman—  Will. 
So— now— now— she would be wheadling me for more— what, you will not take it then— you are resolved you will not— come— come take it, or I'll put if up again— for look ye, I never give more— when how now Mistress, are you so high i'th' Mouth a Pistol won't down with you— hah— when what a works ' here— in good time— come, no struggling to be gone— but an you're good at a dumb Wrestle I'm for ye— look ye— I'm for ye—  [She struggles with him. Enter Belvile and Frederick. Belu. 
The Door is open, a pox of this mad Fellow, I'm angry that we've lost him, I durst have sworn he had followed us.  Fred. 
But you were so hasty Colonel to be gone.  Flor. 
Help! help!— Murder!— help— oh I am ruined.  Belu. 
Ha! sure thats Florindas' voice.  [Comes up to them. 
— A Man! Villain let go that Lady.  [A Noise. [Will. turns and draws, Fred. interposes. Flor. 
Belvile! Heavens! my Brother too is coming, and 'twill be impossible to escape— Belvile I conjure you to walk under my Chamber Window, from whence I'll give you some Instructions what to do— this rude Man has undone us.  [Exit. Will. 
Belvile!  Enter Pedro, Stephano, and other Servants with Lights. Ped. 
I'm betrayed! run Stephano and see if Florinda be safe? [Ex. Steph. So, who e'er they be, all is not well, I'll to Florindas' Chamber.  They Fight, and Ped. Party beats 'em out. Going out, meets Steph. Steph. 
You need not Sir, the poor Lady's fast asleep and thinks no harm. I would not awake her Sir, for fear of frighting her with your danger.  Red. 
I'm glad she's there— Rascals how came the Garden Door open?  Steph. 
That Question comes too late Sir, some of my Fellow Servants Masquerading I'll warrant.  Ped. 
Masquerading! a lewd Custom to debauch our youth,— there's something more in this then I imagine.  [Exeunt. Scene changes to the Street. Enter Belvile in Rage. Fred. holding him, and Wilmore Melancholy. Will. 
When how the Devil should I know Florinda?  Belu. 
Ah plague of your Ignorance! if it had not been Florinda, must you be a Beast?— a Brute? a Senseless Swine.  Will. 
Well Sir, you see I am endued witn patience— I can bear— though Egad you're very free with me, methinks.— I was in good hopes the Quarrel would have been on my side, for so uncivilly interrupting me.  Belu. 
Peace Brute! whilst thou'rt safe— oh I'm distracted.  Will. 
Nay, nay, I'm an unlucky Dog, that's certain.  Belu. 
Ah Curse upon the Star that Ruled my Birth! or whatsoever other Influence that makes me still so wretched.  Will. 
Thou break'st my Heart with these complaints; there is no Star in fault, no Influence, but Sack, the cursed Sack I drunk.  Fred. 
When how the Devil came you so drunk?  Will. 
When how the Devil came you so sober?  Belu. 
A Curse upon his thin Skull, he was always before hand that way.  Fred. 
Prithee Dear Colonel forgive him, he's sorry for his Fault.  Belu. 
He's always so after he has done a mischief— a plague on all such Brutes.  Will. 
By this Light I took her for an Errand Harlot.  Belu. 
Damn your debauched opinion! tell me Sot hadst thou so much sense and light about thee to distinguish her Woman, and coudst not see something about her Face and Person, to strike an awful Reverence into thy Soul?  Will. 
Faith no, I considered her as mere a Woman as I could wish.  Belu. 
'Sdeath, I have no patience— draw, or I'll kill you.  Will. 
Let that alone till to Morrow, and if I set not all right again, use your pleasure.  Belu. 
To Morrow! damn it  
The Spiteful Light will lead me to no happiness.  
To Morrow is Antonio's, and perhaps  
Guides him to my undoing;— oh that I could meet  
This Rival! this powerful Fortunate!  Will. 
What then?  Belu. 
Let thy own Reason, or my Rage instruct thee.  Will. 
I shall be finely informed then, no doubt, hear me Colonel— hear me— show me the Man and I'll do his Business.  Belu. 
I know him no more than thou, or if I did I should not need thy Aid.  Will. 
This you say is Angellicas' House, I promised the kind Baggage to lie with her to Night.  [Offers to go in. Enter Antonio and his Page. Ant▪ knock on the Hilt of's Sword. Ant. 
You paid the Thousand Crowns I directed?  Page. 
To the Ladies Old Woman, Sir I did.  Will. 
Who the Devil have we here!  Belu. 
I'll now plant myself under Florinda's Window, and if I find no comfort there, I'll die.  [Ex. Belu. and Fred. Enter Moretta. Moret. 
Page!  Page. 
Here's my Lord.  Will. 
How is this! a Pickroone going to board my Frigate? here's one Chase Gun for you.  Drawing his Sword, justles Ant. who turns and draws. They fight, Ant. falls. Moret. 
Oh bless us! we're all undone!  [Runs in and shuts the Door. Page. 
Help! Murder!  [Belvile returns at the noise of fighting. Belu. 
Ha! the mad Rogue's engaged in some unlucky Adventure again.  Enter two or three Masqueraders. Masq. 
Ha! a Man killed!  Will. 
How! a Man killed! then I'll go home to sleep.  [Puts up and reels out▪ Ex. Masque another way. Belu. 
Who should it be! pray Heaven the Rogue is safe for all my Quarrel to him.  [As Belvile is groping about, Enter an Officer and six Soldiers. Sold. 
Who's there?  Offic. 
So, here's one dispatched— secure the Murderer.  Belu. 
Do not mistake my Charity for Murder! I came to his Assistance.  [Soldiers seize on Belvile. Offic. 
That shall be tried, Sir— St. jago, Swords drawn in the Carnival time!  [Goes to Antonio. Ant. 
Thy hand prithee.  Offic. 
Ha! Don Antonio! look well to the Villain there.— How is it, Sir?  Ant. 
I'm hurt.  Belu. 
Has my humanity made me a Criminal?  Offic. 
Away with him.  Belu. 
What a cursed chance is this?  [Ex. Soldiers with Belu. Ant. 
This is the Man, that has set upon me twice— carry him to my Apartment, till you have farther Orders from me.  [To the Officer. Ex. Ant. led. 
The End of the Third ACT.    

ACT IU.  

Scene I. A fine Room.  Discovers Belvile as by dark alone. Belu. 
When shall I be weary of railing on Fortune, who is resolved never to turn with smiles upon me— Two suchd efeats in one Night— none but the Devil, and that mad Rogue could have contrived to have plagued me with — I am here a Prisoner— but where— Heaven knows— and if there be Murder done, I can soon decide the Fate of a Stranger in a Nation without mercy— yet this is nothing to the Torture my Soul bows with, when I think of losing my fair, my dear Florinda— hark— my door opens— a Light— a Man— and seems of Quality— armed too!— now shall I die like a Dog without defence.  Enter Antonio in a Nightgown, with a Light; his Arm in a Scarf, and a Sword under his Arm: he sets the Candle on the Table. Ant. 
Sir, I come to know what Injuries I have done you, that could provoke you to so mean an Action, as to Attack me basely, without allowing time for my defence?  Belu. 
Sir, for a Man in my circumstances to plead Innocence, would look like fear— but view me well, and you will find no marks of Coward on me; nor any thing that betrays that Brutality you accuse me with.  Ant. 
In vain, Sir, you impose upon my sense.  
You are not only he who drew on me last Night,  
But yesterday before the same house, that of Angellica.  
Yet there is something in your Face and Mien  
That makes me wish I were mistaken.  Belu. 
I own I fought to day in the defence of a Friend of mine, with whom you (if you're the same) and your Party were first engaged.  
Perhaps you think this Crime enough to kill me,  
But if you do; I cannot fear you'll do it basely.  Ant. 
No, Sir, I'll make you fit for a defence with this.  [Gives him the Sword. Belu. 
This Gallantry surprises me— nor know I how to use this Present, Sir, against a Man so brave.  Ant. 
You shall not need;  
For know, I come to snatch you from a danger  
That is decreed against you:  
Perhaps your Life, or long Imprisonment;  
And 'twas with so much Courage you offended,  
I cannot see you punished.  Belu. 
How shall I pay this Generosity?  Ant. 
It had been safer to have killed another  
Than have attempted me:  
To show your danger, Sir, I'll let you know my Quality;  
And 'tis the Viceroy's Son, whom you have wounded.  Bel. 
The Viceroy's Son!  
Death and Confusion! was this Plague reserved  
To complete all the rest— obliged by him!  
The Man of all the World I would destroy.  aside. Ant. 
You seem disordered, Sir.  Belu. 
Yes, trust me, Sir, I am, and 'tis with pain  
That Man receives such Bounties,  
who wants the Power to pay 'em back again▪  Ant. 
To gallant Spirits 'tis indeed uneasy;  
— But you may quickly over pay me, Sir.  Belu. 
Then I am well— kind Heaven! but set us even,  
That I may fight with him and keep my Honour safe.  [aside. 
— Oh, I'm impatient, Sir, to be discounting  
The mighty Debt I owe you, Command me quickly—  Ant. 
I have a Quarrel with a Rival, Sir,  
About the Maid we love.  Belu. 
Death, 'tis Florinda he means—  
That thought destroys my Reason,  
And I shall kill him—  aside. Ant. 
My Rival, Sir,  
Is one has all the Virtues Man can boast of—  Belu. 
Death! who should this be?  [aside. 
He challenged me to meet him on the Molo,  
As soon as day appeared, but last Night's quarrel,  
Has made my Arm unfit to guide a Sword.  Belu. 
I apprehend you, Sir, you'd have me kill the Man,  
That lays a Claim to the Maid you speak of.  
— I'll do't— I'll fly to do't!  Ant. 
Sir, do you know her?  Belu. 
— No, Sir, but 'tis enough she is admired by you.  Ant. 
Sir, I shall rob you of the Glory on't,  
For you must fight under my Name and Dress.  Belu. 
That Opinion must be strangely obliging that makes  
You think I can personate the brave Antonio,  
Whom I can but strive to imitate.  Ant. 
You say too much to my Advantage;  
— Come, Sir, the day appears that calls you forth.  
— Within, Sir, is the habit.  [Exit Antonio. Belu. 
Fantastic Fortune, thou deceitful Light,  
That Cheats the wearied Traveller by Night,  
Tho on a Precipice each step you tread,  
I am resolved to follow where you lead.  [Exit.  

SCENE, the Mole.  Enter Florinda and Calais in Masques with Stephano. Flor. 
I'm dying with my fears, Belvile's not coming as I expected under my Window,  
Makes me believe that all those fears are true.  aside. 
— Canst thou not tell with whom my Brother fights?  Steph. 
No, Madam, they were both in Masquerade, I was by when they challenged one another, and they had decided the Quarrel then, but were prevented by some Cavaliers; which made 'em put it off till now— but I am sure 'tis about you they fight.  Flor. 
Nay, then 'tis with Belvile, for what other Lover have I that dares fight for me, except Antonio? and he is too much in favour with my Brother— if it be he, for whom shall I direct my Prayers to Heaven?  aside. Steph. 
Madam, I must leave you, for if my Master see me, I shall be hanged for being your Conductor— escaped narrowly for the excuse I made for you last Night i'th' Garden.  Flor. 
And I'll reward thee for't— prithee no more.  [Ex. Steph. Enter Don Pedro in his Masking Habit. Pedro. 
Antonio's late to day, the place will fill, and we may be prevented.  [Walks about. Flor. 
Antonio sure I heard amiss.  [aside. Pedro. 
But who will not excuse a happy Lover  
When soft fair Arms confine the yielding Neck;  
And the kind whisper languishingly breathes.  
— Must you begone so soon?—  
Sure I had dwelled for ever on her Bosom.  
— But stay, he's here.  Enter Belvile dressed in Antonio's Clothes. Flor. 
'Tis not Belvile, half my fears are vanished.  Pedro. 
Antonio!  Belu. 
This must be he.  [aside. 
You're early, Sir,— I do not use to be outdone this way.  Pedro. 
The wretched, Sir, are watchful, and 'tis enough  
You've the advantage of me in Angellica.  Belu. 
Angellica! or I've mistook my Man! or else Antonio.  
— Can he forget his Interest in Florinda,  
And fight for common Prize?  aside. Pedro. 
Come, Sir, you know our terms—  Belu. 
By Heaven not I.  [aside. 
— No talking, I am ready, Sir.  [Offers to fight, Flor. runs in. Flor. 
Oh, hold! who ere you be, I do conjure you hold!  
If you strike here— I die—  [To Belu. Pedro. 
Florinda!  Belu. 
Florinda imploring for my Rival!  Pedro. 
Away, this kindness is unseasonable.  [Puts her by, they fight; she runs in just as Belu. disarms Pedro. Flor. 
Who are you, Sir, that dares deny my Prayers?  Belu. 
Thy Prayers destroy him, if thou wouldst preserve him,  
Do that thou'rt unacquainted with and Curse him.  [She holds him. Flor. 
By all you hold most dear, by her you love,  
I do conjure you, touch him not.  Belu. 
By her I love!  
See— I obey— and at your feet resign  
The useless Trophy of my Victory.  [Lays his Sword at her feet. Pedro. 
Antonio, you've done enough to prove you love Florinda.  Belu. 
Love Florinda!  
Does Heaven love Adoration! Prayer! or Penitence! Love her! here, Sir,— your Sword again. [Snatches up the Sword and gives it him. Upon this truth I'll fight my life away.  Pedro. 
No, you've redeemed my Sister, and my Friendship!  Belu. 
Don Pedro!  He gives him Flor. and pulls off his Vizard to show his Face and puts it on again. Pedro. 
Can you resign your Claims to other Women,  
And give your heart entirely to Florinda?  Belu. 
Entire! as dying Saints Confessions are!  
I can delay my happiness no longer.  
This Minute! let me make Florinda mine.  Pedro. 
This Minute let it be— no time so proper,  
This Night my Father will arrive from Rome,  
And possibly may hinder what we purpose!  Flor. 
Oh Heavens! this Minute!  Enter Masqueraders and pass over. Belu. 
Oh, do not ruin me!  Pedro. 
The place begins to fill, and that we may not be observed, do you walk off to St. Peter's Church, where I will meet you, and conclude your happiness.  Belu. 
I'll meet you there.— If there be no more Saints Churches in Naples.  [Aside. Flor. 
Oh stay Sir, and recall your hasty doom!  
alas I have not yet prepared my Heart  
To entertain so strange a Guest.  Pedro. 
Away this silly modesty is Assumed too late.  Belu. 
Heaven Madam! what do you do?  Flor. 
Do! despise the Man that lays a Tyrant's Claim  
To what he ought to Conquer by submission.  Belu. 
You do not know me— move a little this way.  [Draws her aside. Flor. 
Yes, you may force me even to the Altar,  
But not the holy Man that offers there  
Shall force me to be thine.  [Pedro talks to Calais this while. Belu. 
Oh do not lose so blessed an opportunity!  
— See— 'tis your Belvile— not Antonio,  
Whom your mistaken Scorn & Anger ruins.  [Pulls off his Vizard. Flor. 
Belvile.  
Where was my Soul it could not meet thy Voice!  
And take this knowledge in.  As they are talking, Enter Wilmore finely dressed, and Frederick. Will. 
No Intelligence! no News of Belvile yet— well I am the most unlucky Rascal in Nature— ha— an I deceived— or is it he— look Ferd.— 'tis he— my dear Belvile.  Runs and Embraces him. Belu. Vizard falls out on's Hand. Belu. 
Hell and confusion seize thee!  Pedro. 
Ha! Belvile! I beg your Pardon Sir.  [Takes Flor. from him. Belu. 
Nay touch her not, she's mine by Conquest Sir,  
I won her by my Sword.  Will. 
Didst thou so— and Egad Child we'll keep her by the Sword.  [Draws on Pedro. Belu. goes between. Belu. 
Stand off  
Thou'rt so profanely Lewd, so cursed by Heaven,  
All quarrels thou espousest must be Fatal.  Will. 
Nay an you be so hot, my Valour's Coy, and shall be Courted when you want it next.  [Puts up his Sword. Belu. 
You know I ought to Claim a Victor's right.  [To Pedro 
But you're the Brother to Divine Florinda,  
To whom I'm such a Slave— to purchase her,  
I durst not hurt the Man she holds so dear.  Pedro. 
'Twas by Antonio's, not by Belvile's Sword  
This question should have been decided Sir,  
I must confess much to your Bravery's due,  
Both now, and when I met you last in Arms.  
But I am nicely punctual in my word,  
As Men of Honour ought, and beg your Pardon.  
— For this mistake another time shall clear.  
— This was some Plot between you and Belvile.  
But I'll prevent you.  Aside to Flor. as they are going out Belu. looks after her and begins to walk up and down in Rage. Will. 
Do not be Modest now and lose the Woman, but if we shall fetch her back so—  Belu. 
Do not speak to me—  Will. 
Not speak to you— Egad I'll speak to you, and will be answered too.  Belu. 
Will you Sir—  Will. 
I know I've done some mischief, but I'm so dull a Puppey, that I'm the Son of a Whore, if I know how, or where— prithee inform my understanding—  Belu. 
Leave me I say, and leave me instantly.  Will. 
I will not leave you in this humour, nor till I know my Crime.  Belu. 
Death I'll tell you Sir—  Draws and runs at Will. he runs out, Belu. after him, Fred. interposes. Enter Angellica, Moretta and Sebastian. Ang. 
Ha— Sebastian—  
Is not that Willmore?— haste— haste and bring him back.  Ferd ' 
The Colonel's mad— I never saw him thus before, I'll after 'em lest he do some mischief, for I am sure Wilmore will not draw on him.  [Exit. Ang. 
I am all Rage! my first desires defeated!  
For one for aught he knows that has no  
Other Merit than her Quality.  
— Her being Don Pedro's Sister— he loves her!  
I know 'tis so— dull, dull, Insensible—  
He will not see me now though oft invited;  
And broke his word last Night— false perjured Man!  
— He that but Yesterday fought for my Favours,  
And would have made his Life a Sacrifice  
t'o've gained one Night with me,  
Must now be hired and Courted to my Arms.  Morett. 
I told you what would come of't, but Moretta's an old doting Fool— why did you give him five Hundred Crowns, but to set himself out for other Lovers! you should have kept him Poor, if you had meant to have had any good from him.  Ang. 
Oh, name not such mean trifles;— had I given him all  
My Youth has earned from Sin,  
I had not lost a thought, nor sigh upon't.  
But I have given him my Eternal rest,  
My whole repose, my future joys, my Heart!  
My Virgin heart Moretta! Oh 'tis gone!  Morett. 
Curse on him here he comes;  
How fine she has made him too.  Enter Willmore and Sebast. Ang. turns and walks away. Will. 
How now turned shadow!  
Fly when I pursue! and follow when I fly!  [Sings.] 
Stay gentle shadow of my Dove  
And tell me e'er I go,  
Whether the substance may not prove  
A Fleeting thing like you.  
There's a soft kind look remaining yet.  As she turns she looks on him. Ang. 
Well Sir, you may be gay, all happiness, all joys pursue you still, Fortune's your Slave, and gives you every hour choice of new hearts and Beauties, till you are cloyed with the repeated Bliss, which others vainly languish for.—  
— But know false Man that I shall be revenged.  [Turns away in Rage. Will. 
So gad there are of those faint hearted Lovers, whom such a sharp Lesson next their hearts, would make as Impotent as Fourscore— pox o' this whining.— My business is to laugh and love— a pox on't, I hate your sullen Lover, a Man shall lose as much time to put you in humour now, as would serve to gain a new Woman.  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 sort of ill-natured Creatures, that take a Pride to torment a Lover, Virtue is but an infirmity in Woman; a Disease that renders even the handsome ungrateful; whilst the ill-favoured 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 Whores.  Ang. 
I will not answer for your Mistress' Virtue,  
Though 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 entertained on the Prazo 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 breathed 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— would she would be angry enough to leave me, and Command me not to wait on her.  [Aside. Enter Helena dressed in Man's clothes. Hell. 
This must be Angellica! I know it by her mumping Matron here— Ay, ay, 'tis she! my Mad Captains with her too, for all his swearing— how this unconstant humour makes me love him!— Pray good grave Gentle woman is not this Angellica?  Moret. 
My too young Sir, it is— I hope 'tis one from Don Antonio.  [Goes to Angellica. Hell. 
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! when I'll begone— and wait your idler Minutes— can I show 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 adove the advanges you name  
I prize one Minutes joy with you.  Will. 
Oh, you destroy me with this indearment. [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 Assignation with my Gipsy.  [Aside, and walks about impatiently. Hell. 
Madam,  Moretta brings Helena, who addresses herself to Angellica. 
You'll hardly pardon my Intrusion,  
When you shall know my business!  
And I'm too young to tell my Tale with Art:  
But there must be a wondrous store of goodness,  
Where so much Beauty dwells.  Ang. 
A pretty Advocate whoever sent thee.  
— Prithee proceed— Nay, Sir, you shall not go.  [To Will. who is stealing off. Will. 
Then I shall lose my dear Gipsy for ever  
— Pox on't, she stays me out of spite.  aside. Ang. 
I am related to a Lady, Madam,  
Young, Rich, and nobly born, but has the Fate  
To be in Love with a young English Gentleman.  
Strangely she loves him, at first sight she loved him,  
But did Adore him when she heard him speak;  
For he, she said, had Charms in every word,  
That failed not to surprise, to Wound and Conquer.  Will. 
Ha! Egad I hope this concerns me.  [aside. Ang. 
'Tis my false man, he means— would he were gone.  
This Praise will raise his Pride, and ruin me— well  
Since you are so impatient to be gone  
I will release you, Sir.  [To Will. Will. 
Nay, then I'm sure 'twas me he spoke off, this cannot be the effects of kindness in her.  aside. 
— No, Madam, I've considered better on't,  
And will not give you Cause of Jealousy.  Ang. 
But, Sir, I've— business, that—  Will. 
This shall not do, I know 'tis but to try me.  Ang. 
Well, to your story, Boy,— though 'twill undo me.  [aside. Hell. 
With this addition to his other Beauties,  
He won her unresisting tender heart,  
He vowed, and sighed, and swore he loved her dearly;  
And she believed the cunning flatterer,  
And thought herself the happiest Maid alive,  
To day was the appointed time by both  
To consummate their Bliss,  
The Virgin, Altar, and the Priest were dressed,  
And whilst she languished for th' expected Bridegroom,  
She heard, he paid his broken Vows to you.  Will. 
So, this is some dear Rogue that's in Love with me,  
And this way lets me know it; or if it be not me, she means some one whose place I may supply.  Ang. 
Now I perceive  
The cause of thy impatience to be gone,  
And all the business of this Glorious Dress.  Will. 
Damn the young Prater, I know not what he means.  Hell. 
Madam,  
In your fair Eyes I read too much concern,  
To tell my farther business.  Ang. 
Prithee, sweet Youth, talk on, thou mayst perhaps  
Raise here a storm that may undo my passion,  
And then I'll grant thee any thing.  Hell. 
Madam, 'tis to entreat you, (oh unreasonable)  
You would not see this stranger;  
For if you do, she Vows you are undone,  
Tho Nature never made a Man so Excellent,  
And sure he'ad been a God, but for inconstancy.  Will. 
Ah, Rogue, how finely he's instructed!  [aside. 
— 'Tis plain; some woman that has seen me e'en passant.  Ang. 
Oh, I shall burst with Jealousy! do you know the Man you speak off?—  Hell. 
Yes, Madam, he used to be in Buffand Scarlet.  Ang. 
Thou, false as Hell, what canst thou say to this?  [To Will. Will. 
By Heaven—  Ang. 
Hold, do not Damn thyself—  Hell. 
Nor hope to be believed.—  [He walks about, they follow. Ang. 
Oh perjured Man!  
Is't thus you pay my generous Passion back?  Hell. 
Why would you, Sir, abuse my Lady's Faith?—  Ang. 
And use me so unhumanely.  Hell. 
A Maid so young, so innocent—  Will. 
Ah, young Devil.  Ang. 
Dost thou not know thy life is my power?  Hell. 
Or think my Lady cannot be revenged.  Will. 
So, so, the storm comes finely on.  [aside. Ang. 
Now thou art silent, guilt has struck thee dumb.  
Oh, hadst thou still been so, I'd lived in safety.  [She turns away and weeps. Will. 
Sweet heart, the Lady's Name and House,— quickly: I'm impatient to be with her.—  Aside to Helena, looks towards Angel. to watch her turning, and as she comes towards them he meets her. Hell. 
So, now is he for another Woman.  [aside. Will. 
The impudents young thing in nature,  
I cannot persuade him out of his Error, Madam.  Ang. 
I know he's in the right,— yet thou'st a tongue  
That would persuade him to deny his Faith.  [In rage walks away. Will. 
Her Name, her Name, dear Boy.—  [Said softly to Hell. Hell. 
Have you forgot it, Sir?  Will. 
Oh, I perceive he's not to know I am a stranger to his Lady.  [aside. 
— Yes, yes I do know— but— I have forgot the—  [angel. turns. 
— By Heaven such early confidence I never saw.  Ang. 
Did I not charge you with this Mistress, Sir?  
Which you denied, tho' I beheld your, Perjury.  
This little generosity of thine, has rendered back my heart.  [Walks away. Will. 
So, you have made sweet work here, my little mischief;  
Look your Lady be kind and good natured now, or  
I shall have but a Cursed Bargain on't.  [Ang. turns towards them. 
— The Rogue's bred up to mischief,  
Art thou so great a Fool to credit him?  Ang. 
Yes, I do, and you in vain impose upon me.  
— Come hither, Boy,— is not this he you spoke of.  Hell. 
I think— it is, I cannot swear, but I vow he has just such another lying Lovers look.  [Hell. looks in his face, he gazes on her. Will. 
Ha! do not I know that face—  
By Heaven my little Gipsy, what a dull Dog was I,  
Had I but looked that way I'd known her.  
Are all my hopes of a new Woman banished?  aside. 
— Egad if I do not fit thee for this, hang me.  
— Madam, I have found out the Plot.  Hell. 
Oh Lord, what does he say? am I discovered now?  Will. 
Do you see this young Spark here?—  Hell. 
He'll tell her who I am.  Will. 
— Who do you think this is?  Hell. 
Ay, ay, he does know me— Nay, dear Captain! I am undone if you discover me.  Will. 
Nay, nay, no eogging, she shall know what a precious Mistress I have.  Hell. 
Will you be such a Devil?  Will. 
Nay, nay, I'll teach you to spoil sport you will not make. — this small Ambassador comes not from a Person of Quality as you Imagine, and he says: but from a very Errand Gipsy, the talking'st, prating'st, canting'st little Animal thou ever sawst.  Ang. 
What news you tell me, that's the thing I mean.  Hell. 
Would I were well off the place, if ever I go a Captain, Hunting again— Aside  Will. 
Mean that thing? that Gipsy thing, thou may'st as well be Jealous of thy Monkey or Parrot, as of her, a German Motion were worth a duzen of her, and a Dream were a better enjoyment, a Creature of a Constitution fitter for Heaven then Man.  Hell. 
Tho I'm sure he lies, yet this vexes me. Aside.  Ang. 
You are mistaken, she's a Spanish Woman Made up of no such dull Materials.  Will. 
Materials, Egad an she be made of any that will either dispense or admit of Love, I'll be bound to continence.  Hell. 
Unreasonable Man, do you think so? Aside to him.— you may return my little Brazen Head, and tell your Lady, that till she be handsome enough to be beloved, or I dull enough to be Religious, there will be small hopes of me.  Ang. 
Did you not promise then to marry her?  Will. 
Not I by heaven.  Ang. 
You cannot undeceive my fears and torments, till you have vowed you will not marry her.  Hel. 
If he Swears, that he'll be revenged on me indeed for all my Rogueries. Aside.  Ang. 
I know what Arguments you'll bring against me, Fortune, and Honour.—  Will. 
Honour, I tell you, I hate it in your Sex, and those that fancy themselves possessed of that Foppery, are the most impertinently troublesome of all Woman kind, and will transgress Nine Commandments to keep one, and to satisfy your Jealousy I swear.  Hell. 
Oh, no swearing dear Captain. Aside to him.  Will. 
If it were possible, I should ever be inclined to marry, it should be some kind young Sinner, one that has generosity, enough to give a favour handsomely to one that can ask it discreetly, one that has Wit enough to Manage an intrigue of Love— oh, how civil such a Wench is, to a Man that does her the Honour to marry her.  Ang. 
By Heaven there's no Faith in any thing he says.  Enter Sebastian. Sebas. 
Madam, Don Antonio—  Ang. 
Come hither.  Hell. 
Ha! Antonio, he may be coming hither and he'll certainly discover me, I'll therefore retire without a Ceremony.  [Exit Helena. Ang. 
I'll see him, get my Coach ready.  Seba. 
It waits you Madam,  Will. 
This is luckey: what Madam, now I may be gone and leave you to the enjoyment of my Rival?  Ang. 
Dull man, that canst not see how Ill, how poor,  
That false dissimulation looks— begone  
And never let me see thy Cozening Face again,  
Lest I relapse and kill thee.  Will. 
Yes, you can spare me now,— farewell, till you're in better Humour— I'm glad of this release—  
Now for my Gipsy:  
For tho' to worse we change, yet still we find  
New Joys, new Charms, in a New Miss that's kind.  [Ex. Wilmore. Ang. 
He's gone, and in this Ague of my Soul  
The Shivering fit returns;  
Oh with what willing haste, he took his leave,  
As if the longed-for Minute, were arrived  
Of some blessed assignation.  
In vain I have Consulted all my Charms,  
In vain this Beauty prized, in vain believed,  
My Eyes could kindle any lasting fires;  
I had forgot my Name, my Infamy,  
And the reproach that Honour lays on those  
That dare pretend a sober passion here.  
Nice reputation, tho' it leave behind  
More Virtues than inhabit where that dwells;  
Yet that once gone, those Virtues shine no more.  
— Then since I am not fit to be beloved,  
I am resolved to think on a revenge  
On him that soothed me thus to my undoing.  [Exeunt.  

SCENE the Third. A Street.  
Enter Florinda and Valeria in Habits different from what they have been seen in.  Flor. 
We're happily Escaped, and yet I tremble still.  Val. 
A Lover and fear! when I am but half an one, and yet I have Courage for any attempt, would Helena were here, I would fain have had her as deep in this Mischief as we, she'll fare but in else I doubt.  Flor. 
She pretended a Visit to the Augustine Nuns, but I believe some other design carried her out, pray Heaven we light on her.— Prithee what didst do with Calais?  Val. 
When I saw no reason would do good on her, I followed her into the Wardrobe, and as she was looking for something in a great Chest, I toppled her in by the heels, snatched the Key of the Apartment where you were confined, locked her in, and left her bawling for help.  Flor. 
'Tis well you resolve to follow my Fortunes, for thou darest never appear at home again after such an action.  Val. 
That's according as the young Stranger and I shall agree.— but to our business— I delivered your Letter, your Note to Belvile, when I got out under pretence of going to Mass, I found him at his Lodging, and believe me it came seasonably; for never was Man in so desperate a Condition, I told him of your resolution of making your Escape to day, if your Brother would be absent long enough to permit you; if not, rather than be Antonio's.  Flor. 
Thou shouldst have told him I was confined to my chamber upon my Brother's suspicion, that the business on the Molo was a Plot laid between him and I.  Val. 
I said all this, and told him your Brother was now gone to his Devotion, and he resolves to visit every Church till he find him; and not only undeceive him in that, but caress him so as shall delay his return home.  Flor. 
Oh Heavens! he's here, and Belvile with him too.  They put on their visards. Enter Don Pedro, Belvile, Willmore. Bel. and Don Pedro seeming in serious discourse. Val. 
Walk boldly by them, and I'll come at distance, lest he suspect us.  She walks by them, and looks back on them. Will. 
Ha! a Woman, and of an Excellent Mien.  Ped. 
She throws a kind look back on you.  Will. 
Death, 'tis a likely Wench, and that kind look shall not be cast away— I'll follow her.  Bell. 
Prithee do not.  Will. 
Do not, by Heavens to the Antipodies, with such an invitation.  [She goes out, and Will. follows her. Bell. 
'Tis a mad Fellow for a Wench.  Enter Fred. Fred. 
Oh Col. such News!  Belu. 
Prithee what?  Fred. 
News that will make you laugh in spite of Fortune.  Bel. 
What, Blunt has had some Damned Trick put upon him, Cheated, Banged or Clapped.  Fred. 
Cheated Sir, rarely Cheated of all but his Shirt & Drawers, the unconscionable Whore too turned him out before Consummation, so that traversing the Streets at Midnight, the Watch found him in this Fresco, and conducted him home: By Heaven 'tis such a sight, and yet I durst as well been hanged as laughed at him, or pity him; he beats all that do but ask him a question, and is in such an Humour.  Ped. 
Who is't has met with this Ill usage, Sir?  Bell. 
A Friend of ours whom you must see for mirth's sake▪ I'll employ him to give Florinda time for an escape.  [Aside. Ped. 
What is he?  Bell. 
A Young Countryman of ours, one that has been Educated at so plentiful a rate, he yet ne'er knew the want of Money, and 'twill be a great Jest to see how simply he'll look without it, for my part I'll lend him none, and the Rogue know not how to put on a Borrowing face, and ask first, I'll let him see how good 'tis to play our parts whilst I play his— prithee Fred. do you go home and keep him in that posture till we come.  [Exeunt. Enter Florinda from the farther end of the Scene, looking behind ber. Flor. 
I am followed still— hah.— my Brother too advancing; this way, good Heavens defend me from being seen by him.  [She goes off. Enter Willmore, and after him Valeria, at a little distance. Will. 
Ah! There she sails, she looks back as she were willing to be boarded, I'll warrant her Prize.  [He goes out, Valeria following. Enter Helena, just as he goes out, with a Page: Hell. 
Ha, is not that my Captain that has a Woman in chase?— 'tis not Angellica; Boy, follow those people at a distance, and bring me an account where they go in,— I'll find his haunts, and plague him every where,— ha— my Brother—  [Ex. Page. [Bel. Wil Ped. 'cross the Stage: Hell. runs off. Scene changes to another Street. Enter Florinda. Flor. 
What shall I do, my Brother now pursues me,  
Will no kind Power protect me from his tyranny?— hah, here's a door open, I'll venture in, since nothing can be worse than to fall into his hands, my life and honour are at stake, and my Necessity has no choice.  [She goes in. Enter Valeria and Hellena's Page peeping after Florinda. Page. 
Here she went in, I shall remember this house.  [Ex. Boy. Val. 
This is Belvil's Lodging; she's gone in as readily as if she knew it,— hah— here's that Mad Fellow again, I dare not venture in,— I'll watch my opportunity.  [Goes aside. Enter Willmore, gazing about him. Will. 
I have lost her hereabouts— Pox on't, she must not scape me so.  [Goes out. Scene changes to blunt's Chamber, discovers him sitting on a Couch in his Shirt and Drawers, reading. Blunt. 
So, now my mind's a little at peace, since I have resolved revenge— a Pox on this Tailor tho, for not bringing home the Clothes I bespoke; and a Pox of all poor Cavaliers, a Man can never keep a spare Suit for 'em; and I shall have these Rogues come in and find me naked, and then I'm undone; but I'm resolved to arm myself— the Rascals shall not insult over me too much. [Puts on an old rusty Sword, and Buff Belt.— Now, how like a Morrice-Dancer I am Equipt— a fine Lady like Whore to Cheat me thus, without affording me a kindness for my Money, a Pox light on her, I shall never be reconciled to the Sex more, she has made me as faithless as a Physician, as uncharitable as a Churchman, and as ill natured as a Poet. Oh how I'll use all womankind hereafter! what would I give to have one of 'em within my reach now! any Mortal thing in Petticoats, kind Fortune, send me! and I'll forgive thy last night's Malice— here's a Cursed Book too, (a warning to all young Travellers) that can instruct me how to prevent such Mischiefs now 'tis too late, well 'tis a rare convenient thing to read a little now and then, as well as Hawk and Hunt.  [Sits down again and Reads. Enter to him Florinda. Flor. 
This House is haunted sure, 'tis well furnished and no living thing inhabits it— hah— a Man, Heavens how he's attired! sure 'tis some Rope-dancer, or Fencing-master; I tremble now for fear, and yet I must venture now to speak to him— Sir, if I may not interrupt your Meditations—  [She starts up and gazes. Blunt. 
Ha— what's here! are my wishes granted? and is not that a she Creature? adds heartlikins 'tis! what wretched thing art thou— hah!  Flor. 
Charitable Sir, you've told yourself already what I am; a very wretched Maid, forced by a strange unlucky accident, to seek a safety here,  
And must be ruined, if you do not grant it.  Blunt. 
Ruined! is there any ruin so inevitable as that which now threatens thee? dost thou know, miserable Woman! into what Den of Mischiefs thou art fallen? what abiss of Confusion— hah!— dost not see something in my looks that frights thy guilty Soul, and makes thee wish to change that shape of Woman for any humble Animal, or Devil? for those were safer for thee, and less mischievous.  Flor. 
Alas, what mean you, Sir? I must confess, your looks have something in 'em, makes me fear, but I beseech you, as you seem a Gentleman, pity a harmless Virgin, that takes your house for Sanctuary.  Blunt. 
Talk on, talk on, and weep too, till my Faith-return Do, flatter me out of my Senses again— a harmless Virgin with a Pox, as much one as tother, adsheartlikins. When what the Devil can I not be safe in my House for you, not in my Chamber, nay, even being naked too cannot secure me: this is an Impudence greater than has invaded me yet— Come, no resistance.  [Pulls her rudely. Flor. 
Dare you be so cruel?  Blunt. 
Cruel, adsheartlikins as a Galley slave, or a Spanish▪ Whore: Cruel, yes I will kiss and beat thee all over; kiss, and see thee all over; thou shalt lie with me too, not that I care for the enjoyment, but to let thee see I have tain deliberated Malice to thee, and will be revenged on one Whore for the sins of another; I will smile and deceive thee, flatter thee, and beat thee, kiss and swear, and lie to thee, embrace thee and rob thee, as she did me, fawn on thee, and strip thee stark naked; then hang thee out at my window by the heels, with a Paper of scurvy Verses fastened to thy breast, in praise of damnable women— Come come along.  Flor. 
Alas, Sir, must I be sacrificed for the Crimes of the most infamous of my Sex, I never understood the fins you name.  Blunt. 
Do, persuade the Fool you Love him, or that one of you can be just or honest, tell me I was not an easy Coxcomb, or any strange impossible tale: it will be believed sooner than thy false Showers or Protestations. A generation of damned Hypocrites to flatter my very Clothes from my Back! dissembling Witches! are these the returns you make an honest Gentleman, that trusts, believes, and loves you— but if I be not even with you— Come along— or I shall—  [Pulls her again. Enter Fredrick. Fred. 
Ha! what's here to do?  Blunt. 
Adsheartlikins, Fred. I am glad thou art come, to be a witness of my dire revenge.  Fred. 
What's this, a Person of Quality too, who is upon the ramble to supply the defects of some grave impotent Husband?  Blunt. 
No, this has another pretence, some very unfortunate accident, brought her hither, to save a life pursued by I know not who, or why, and forced to take sanctuary here at Fool's Haven. Adsheartlikins to me of all Mankind for protection? is the Ass to be Cajold again, think ye? No, young one, no Prayers or Tears shall mitigate my rage; therefore prepare for both my pleasures of enjoyment and revenge, for I am resolved to make up my loss here on thy body, I'll take it out in kindness and in beating.  Fred. 
Now Mistress of mine, what do you think of this?  Flor. 
I think he will not— dares not be so barbarous.  Fred. 
Have a care, Blunt, she fetch't a deep sigh, she is enamoured with thy Shirt and Drawers, she'll strip thee even of that, there are of her calling such unconscionable Baggages, and such dexterous Thiefs, they'll flay a man and he shall ne'er miss his skin, till he feels the cold. There was a Countryman of ours robbed of a Row of Teeth whilst he was a sleeping, which the Jilt made him buy again when he waked— you see Lady how little reason we have to trust you.  Blunt. 
'Dsheartlikins, when this is most abominable.  Flor. 
Some such Devils there may be, but by all that's Holy, I am none such, I entered here to save a Life in danger.  Blunt. 
For no goodness, I'll warrant her.  Fred. 
Faith, Damsel, you had e'en confessed the plain truth, for we are fellows not to be caught twice in the same Trap: look on that Wreck, a tight Vessel when he set out of Haven, well Trimmed and Laden, and see how a Female Piccaroon of this Island of Rogues has shattered him, and canst thou hope for any Mercy?  Blunt. 
No, no, Gentlewoman, come along, adsheartlikins we must be better acquainted— we'll both lie with her, and then let me alone to bang her.  Fred. 
I'm ready to serve you in matters of Revenge that has a double pleasure in't.  Blunt. 
Well said. You hear, little one, how you are condemned by public Vote to the Bed within, there's no resisting your Destiny, sweet heart.  [Pulls her. Flor. 
Stay, Sir, I have seen you with Belvile, an English Cavalier, for his sake use me kindly; you know him, Sir.  Blunt. 
Belvile, when yes, sweeting, we do know Belvile, and wish he were with us now, he's a Cormorant at Whore and Bacon, he'd have a Limb or two of thee my Virgin Pullet, but 'tis no matter, we'll leave him the bones to pick.  Flor. 
Sir, if you have any Esteem for that Belvile, I conjure you to treat me with more gentleness; he'll thank you for the justice.  Fred. 
Harkey, Blunt, I doubt we are mistaken in this Matter.  Flor. 
Sir, if you find me not worth Belvile's care, use me as you please, and that you may think I merit better treatment than you threaten— pray take this present—  [Gives him a Ring: he loods on it. Blunt. 
Hum— a Diamond! when 'tis a wonderful Virtue now that lies in this Ring, a mollifying Virtue; adsheartlikins there's more persuasive Rhetoric in't, than all her Sex can utter.  Fred. 
I begin to suspect something; and 'twould anger us vilely to be trust up for a rape upon a Maid of quality, when we only believe we ruffle a Harlot.  Blunt. 
Thou art a credulous Fellow, but adsheartlikins I have no Faith yet, when my Saint prattled as parlously as this does, she gave me a Bracelet too, a Devil on her, but I sent my Man to fell it to day for Necessaries, and it proved as counterfeit as her Vows of Love.  Fred. 
However let it reprieve her till we see Belvile.  Blunt. 
That's hard, yet I will grant it.  Enter a Servant. Seru. 
Oh, Sir, the Colonel is just come in with his new Friend and a Spaniard of Quality, and talks of having you to Dinner with 'em.  Blunt. 
'Dsheartlikins, I'm undone— I would not see 'em for the World. Harkey, Fred. lock up the Wench in your Chamber.  Fred. 
Fear nothing, Madam, what e'er he threatens, you are safe whilst in my hands.  [Ex. Fred. and Flor. Blunt. 
And, Sirrah— upon your life, say— I am not at home,— or that I am asleep— or— or any thing— away— I'll prevent their coming this way.  [Locks the Door, and Exeunt. 
The End of the Fourth ACT.    

ACT V.  

Scene I. Blunt's Chamber.  After a great knocking as at his Chamber Door, Enter Blunt softly crossing the Stage, in his Shirt and Drawers as before. 
Ned, Ned Blunt, Ned Blunt.  [call within. Blunt. 
The Rogues are up in Arms, 'Sheartlikins this Villainous Frederick has betrayed me, they have heard of my blessed Fortune,  
Ned Blunt, Ned, Ned—  [and knocking within. Bell. 
When he's dead Sir, without dispute dead, he has not been seen to day, let's break open the door— here— Boy—  Blunt. 
Ha, break open the door. d'sheartlikins that mad Fellow will be as good as his word.  Bell. 
Boy bring something to force the door,  [a great noise within, at the door again. Blunt. 
So, now must I speak, in my own defence, I'll try what Rhetoric will do— hold— hold what do you mean Gentlemen, what do you mean?  Bell. 
Oh Rogue art 'a live, prithee open the door and convince us.  [within. Blunt. 
Yes, I am alive Gentlemen,— but at present a little busy.  Bell. 
How, Blunt grown a Man of business, come, come, open and let's see this Miracle.  [within. Blunt. 
No, no, no, no, Gentlemen 'tis no great business— but— I am— at— my Devotion— d'sheartlikins will you not allow a Man time to Pray.  Bell. 
Turned Religious! a greater wonder than the first, therefore open quickly, or we shall unhinge, we shall.  [within. Blunt. 
This won't do— when hearkey Col. to tell you the plain truth, I am about a necessary affair of life— I have a wench with me— you apprehend me? the Devils in't if they be so uncivil as to disturb me now,  Will. 
How a Wench! Nay then we must enter and partake no resistance— unless it be your Lady of Quality, and then we'll keep our distance,  Blunt. 
So, the business is out.  Will. 
Come, come lends more hands to the Door— now heave altogether— so well done my Boys—  [breaks open the Door. Enter Belvile, Willmore, Fred. and Pedro. Blunt looks simply, they all laugh at him, he lays his hand on his Sword, and comes up to Wilmore. Blunt. 
Hearkey Sir, laugh out your laugh quickly, de ye hear, and begone. I shall spoil your sport else, ' adsheartlikins Sir, I shall the jest has been carried on too long— a plague upon my Tailor.—  [aside. Will. 
'Sdeath, how the Whore has dressed him, Faith Sir I'm sorry.  Blunt. 
Are you so Sir, keep't to yourself then Sir, I advise you, d'ye hear, for I can as little endure your pity as his Mirth.  [lays his hand on's Sword. Belu. 
Indeed Willmore, thou were't a little too rough with Ned blunt's Mistress, call a Person of Quality whore? and one so young, so sandsome, and so Eloquent— ha, ha, he.—  Blunt. 
Harkey Sir, you know me, and know I can be angry, have a care— for adsheartlikins I can fight too— I can Sir,— do you mark me— no more—  Belu. 
Why so peevish good Ned, some disappointments I'll warrant— what? did the Jealous Count her Husband return just in the nick?  Blunt. 
Or the Devil Sir— d'ye laugh— [they laugh. Look ye settle me a good sober countenance, and that quickly too, or you shall know Ned Blunt is not—  Belv, 
Not every Body, we know that.  Blunt. 
Not an Ass to be laughed at Sir,  Will. 
Unconscionable sinner, to bring a Lover so near his happiness, a vigorous passionate Lover, and then not only cheat him of his moveables, but his very desires to.  Belu. 
Ah! Sir a Mistress, is a trifle with Blunt. he'll have a duzen the next time he looks abroad, his Eyes have Charms, not to be resisted, there needs no more than to expose that taking Person, to the view of the Fair, and he leads 'em all in Triumph.  Ped. 
Sir, tho' I'm a stranger to you, I am ashamed at the rudeness of my Nation; and could you learn who did it, would assist you to make an Example of 'em.  Blunt. 
When aye, there's one speaks Sense now, and han'somly; and let me tell you Gentlemen, I should not have showed myself like a Jack Puding, thus to have made you Mirth, but that I have revenge within my power, for know, I have got into my possession a Female, who had better have fallen under any Curse, than the ruin I design her: ' adsheartlikins she assaulted me here in my own Lodgings, and had doubtless committed a Rape upon me, had not this Sword defended me.  Fred. 
I know not that, but O my conscience thou had Ravished her, had she not redeemed herself with a Ring— let's see't Blunt.  [Blunt shows the Ring. Belu. 
Ha!— the Ring I gave Florinda, when we Exchange our Vows— harkey Blunt,—  [Goes to whisper to him. Will. 
No whispering good Col. there's a Woman in the case, no whispering.  Belu. 
Harkey Fool, be advised, and conceal both the Ring and the story for your Reputations sake, do not let people know what despised Cullies we English are, to be cheated and abused by one Whore, and another rather bribe thee than be kind to thee is an Infamy to our Nation.  Will. 
Come, come where's the Wench, we'll see her, let her be what she will, we'll see her.  Ped. 
Ay, ay, let us see her, I can soon discover whether she be of quality, or for your diversion.  Blunt. 
She's in Freds' Custody.  Will. 
Come, come the Key,  [To Fred. who gives him the Key, they are going. Belu. 
Death, what shall I do—  
Stay Gentlemen— yet if I hinder 'em I shall discover all,— hold— le's go one at once— give me the Key.  Will. 
Nay hold there Col. I'll go first.  Fred. 
Nay no dispute, Ned and I have the gropriety of her.  Will. 
Damn propriety— then we'll draw cuts,— nay no corruption good Col. come the longest Sword carries her—  Belu. goes to whisper Will. They all draw forgetting Don Pedro being as a Spaniard had the longest. Blunt. 
I yield up my interest to you Gentlemen, and that will be; revenge sufficient.  Will. 
The Wench is yours— [to Pedro] Pox of his Toledo, I had forgot that.  Fred. 
Come Sir, I'll Conduct you to the Lady  [Ex. Fred. & Ped. Belu. 
To hinder him will certainly discover her—  [Aside. 
Dost know Dull beast what mischief thou hast done?  Will. walking up and down out of Humour. Will. 
Ay, Ay, to trust our Fortune to Lots, a Devil on't, 'twas madness that's the truth on't.  Belu. 
Oh intolerable Sot—  Enter Florinda running masked, Pedro after her: Will. gazing round her. Flor. 
Good Heaven defend me from discovery.  [aside. Pedro. 
'Tis but in vain to fly me, you're fallen to my Lot.  Belu. 
Sure she's undiscovered yet, but now I fear there is no way to bring her off:  Will. 
When what a Pox is not this my woman, the same I followed but now?  [Ped. talking to Florinda, who walks up and down. Ped. 
As if I did not know ye, and your business here.  Flor. 
Good Heaven, I fear he does indeed—  [aside. Ped. 
Come, pray be kind, I know you meant to be so when you entered here, for these are proper Gentlemen.  Will. 
But Sir— perhaps the Lady will not be imposed upon, She'll choose her Man.  Ped. 
I am better bred, than not to leave her choice free.  Enter Valeria, and is surprised at sight of Don Pedro Val. 
Don Pedro here! there's no avoiding him.  [aside. Flor. 
Valeria! then I'm undone,—  [aside, Val. 
Oh! have I found you Sir— [To Pedro running to him.— the strangest accident— if I had breath— to tell it.  Ped. 
Speak— is Florinda safe? Helena well?  Val. 
Ay, Ay Sir— Florinda— is safe— from any fears of you.  Ped. 
Why where's Florinda?— speak—  Val. 
Ay, where indeed Sir, I wish I could inform you,— but to hold you no longer in doubt—  Flor. 
Oh what will she say—  [Aside. Val. 
— She's fled away in the habit— of one of her Page's Sir— but Calais thinks you may retrieve her yet, if you make haste away, she'll tell you, Sir, the rest— if you can find her out.  [Aside. Ped. 
Dishonourable Girl, she has undone my Aim— Sir— you see my necessity of leaving you, and hope you'll Pardon it; my Sister I know will make her flight to you; and if she do, I shall Expect she should be rendered back.  Belu. 
I shall consult my Love and Honour Sir.  [Ex. Ped. Flor. 
My dear Preserver, let me embrace thee.  [To Val. Will. 
What the Devil's all this?  Blunt. 
Mystery by this light.  Val. 
Come, come, make haste and get yourselves married quickly, for your Brother will return again.  Belu. 
I'm so surprised with fears and joys, so amazed to find you here in safety, I can scarce persuade my heart into a faith of what I see—  Will. 
Harkey Colonel, is this that Mistress who has cost you so many sighs, and me so many quarrels with you?  Bel. 
It is— pray give him the honour of your hand.  [To Flor. Will. 
Thus it must be received then [Kneels and kisses her hand. And with it give your Pardon too.  Flor. 
The Friend to Belvile may command me any thing.  Will. 
Death, would I might, 'tis a surprising Beauty.  [Aside. Bel. 
Boy run and fetch a Father instantly.  [Ex. Boy. Fred. 
So, now do I stand like a Dog, and have not a syllable to plead my own Cause with: by this hand, Madam, I was never throughly confounded before, nor shall I ever more dare look up with confidence, till you are pleased to Pardon me.  Flor. 
Sir, I'll be reconciled to you on one condition, that you'll follow the Example of your Friend, in Marrying a Maid that does not hate you, and whose fortune (I believe) will not be unwelcome to you.  Fred. 
Madam, had I no Inclinations that way, I should obey your kind Commands.  Bell. 
Who Fred. marry, he has so few inclinations for Woman kind, that had he been possessed of Paradise, he might have continued there to this day, if no Crime but Love could have disinherited him.  Fred. 
Oh I do not use to boast of my intrigues.  Bell. 
Boast, when thou dost nothing but boast; and I dare swear, were't thou as Innocent from the sin of the Grape, as thou art from the Apple, thou might'st yet claim that right in Eden which our first Parents lost by too much Loving.  Fred. 
I wish this Lady would think me so modest a man.  Val. 
She would be sorry then, and not like you half so well, and I should be loath to break my word with you, which was, That if your Friend and mine agreed, it should be a Match between you and I.  [She gives him her hand. Bred. 
Bear witness, Colonel, 'tis a Bargain.  [Kisses her hand. Blunt. 
I have a Pardon to beg too, but adsheartlikins I am so out of Countenance, that I'm a Dog if I can say any thing to Purpose.  [To Florinda. Flor. 
Sir, I heartily forgive you all.  Blunt. 
That's nobly said, sweet Lady,— Belvile, prithee present her her Ring again; for I find I have not Courage to approach her myself.  [Gives him the Ring he gives to Florinda. Enter Boy. Boy. 
Sir, I have brought the Father that you sent for.  Bell. 
'Tis well, and now my dear Florinda, let's fly to complete that mighty joy we have so long wished and sighed for:— Come Fred.— you'll follow?  Fred. 
Your Example Sir, 'twas ever my ambition in War, and must be so in Love.  Will. 
And must not I see this juggling knot tied?  Belu. 
No, thou shalt do us better service, and be our guard, lest Don Pedro's sudden return interrupt the Ceremony.  Will. 
Content— I'll secure this pass.  [Ex. Bel. Flor. Fred. and Vall. Enter Boy. Boy. 
Sir, there's a Lady without would speak to you.  [To Will. Will. 
Conduct her in, I dare not quit my Post.  Boy. 
And Sir, your Tailor waits you in your Chamber.  Blunt. 
Some comfort yet, I shall not dance naked at the Wedding.  [Ex. Blunt and Boy. Enter again the Boy, conducting in Angellica in a Masking Habit and a Vizard. Will. runs to her. Will. 
This can be none but my pretty Gipsy— Oh, I see you can follow as well as fly— Come, confess thyself the most malicious Devil in Nature, you think you have done my business with Angellica.—  Ang. 
Stand off, base Villain—  [She draws a Pistol, and holds to his Breast. Will. 
Ha, 'tis not she, who art thou? and what's thy business?  Ang. 
One thou hast injured, and who comes to kill thee for't.  Will. 
What the Devil canst thou mean?  Ang. 
By all my hopes to kill thee—  [Holds still the Pistol to his Breast, he going back, she following still. Will. 
Prithee on, what acquaintance? for I know thee not.  Ang. 
Behold this face!— so lost to thy remembrance,  
And then call all thy sins about thy Soul,  [Pulls off her Vizard. 
And let 'em die with thee.  Will. 
Angellica!  Ang. 
Yes, Tailor,  
Does not thy guilty blood run shivering through thy Veins?  
Hast thou no horror at this sight, that tells thee,  
Thou hast not long to boast thy shameful Conquest?  Will. 
Faith, no Child, my blood keeps its old Ebbs and Flows still, and that usual heat too, that could oblige thee with a kindness, had I but opportunity.  Ang. 
Devil! dost wanton with my pain— have at thy heart.  Will. 
Hold, dear Virago! hold thy hand a little,  
I am not now at leisure to be killed— hold and hear me—  
— Death, I think she's in earnest.  [aside. Ang. 
Oh if I take not heed,  
My coward heart will leave me to his mercy.  [Aside, turning from him. 
— What have you, Sir, to say?— but should I hear thee,  
thou'dst talk away all that is brave about me:  [Follows him with the Pistol to his Breast. 
And I have vowed thy death, by all that's Sacred.  Will. 
When then there's an end of a proper handsome Fellow,  
That might a lived to have done good service yet;  
— That's all I can say to't.  Ang. 
yet— I would give thee— time for— penitence.  [Pausingly. Will. 
Faith Child, I thank God, I have ever took  
Care to lead a good sober, hopeful Life, and am of a Religion  
That teaches me to believe, I shall depart in peace.  Ang. 
So will the Devil! tell me,  
How many poor believing Fools thou hast undone?  
How many hearts thou hast betrayed to ruin?  
— Yet these are little mischiefs to the Ills  
thou'dst taught mine to commit▪ thou'st taught it Love?  Will. 
Egad 'twas shrewdly hurt the while.  Ang. 
— Love, that has robbed it of its unconcern  
Of all that Pride that taught me how to value it.  
And in its room  
A mean submissive Passion was conveyed,  
That made me humbly bow, which I ne'er did  
To any thing but Heaven.  
— Thou, Perjured Man, didst this, and with thy Oaths,  
Which on thy Knees, thou didst devoutly make,  
Softened my yielding heart— And then, I was a slave—  
— Yet still had been content t'o've worn my Chains:  
Worn 'em with vanity and joy for ever,  
Hadst thou not broke those Vows that put them on.  
— 'Twas then I was undone.  [All this while follows him with the Pistol to his Breast. Will. 
Broke my Vows! when where hast thou lived?  
Amongst the Gods? for I never heard of mortal Man,  
That has not broke a thousand Vows.  Ang. 
Oh Impudence!  Will. 
Angellica! that Beauty has been too long tempting,  
Not to have made a thousand Lovers languish,  
Who in the Amorous Favour, no doubt have sworn  
Like me: did they all die in that Faith? still Adoring?  
I do not think they did.  Ang. 
No, faithless Man: had I repaid their Vows, as I did thine, I would have killed the ingrateful that had abandoned me.  Will. 
This Old General has quite spoiled thee, nothing makes a Woman so vain, as being flattered; your old Lover ever supplies the defects of Age, with intolerable Dotage, vast Charge, and that which you call Constancy; and attributingall this to your own Merits, you domineer, and throw your Favours in's Teeth, upbraiding him still with the defects of Age, and Cuckold him as often as he deceives your Expectations. But the Gay, Young, Brisk Lover, that brings his equal Fires, and can give you dart for dart, you'll will be as nice as you sometimes.  Ang. 
All this thou'st made me know, for which I hate thee.  
Had I remained in innocent security,  
I should have thought all men were born my flaves,  
And worn my power like lightning in my Eyes,  
To have destroyed at pleasure when offended:  
— But when Love held the Mirror, the undeceiving Glass  
Reflected all the weakness of my Soul, and made me know  
My richest treasure being lost, my Honour,  
All the remaining spoil could not be worth  
The Conqueror's Care or Value.  
— Oh how I fell like a long worshipped Idol  
Discovering all the Cheat.  
Would not the Incense and rich Sacrifice,  
Which blind Devotion offered at my Altars,  
Have fallen to thee?  
Why wouldst thou then destroy my fancied power.  Will. 
By Heaven thou'rt brave, and I admire thee strangely  
I wish I were that dull, that constant thing  
Which thou wouldst have, and Nature never meant me:  
I must, like cheerful Birds, sing in all Groves,  
And perch on every Bough,  
Billing the next kind she that flies to meet me;  
Yet after all could build my Nest with thee,  
Thither repairing when I'd loved my round,  
And still reserve a tributary Flame.  
— To gain your credit, I'll pay you back your Charity,  
And be obliged for nothing but for Love.  [Offers her a Purse of Gold. Ang. 
Oh that thou wert in earnest!  
So mean a thought of me,  
Would turn my rage to scorn, and I should pity thee,  
And give thee leave to live;  
Which for the public safety of our Sex,  
And my own private Injuries, I dare not do▪  
Prepare  [Follows still, as before. 
— I will no more be tempted with replies.  Will. 
Sure—  Ang. 
Another word will damn thee! I've heard thee talk too long.  Anto. 
Ha! Angellica!  [She follows hiu with the Pistol ready to shoot; he retires still amazed. Enter Don Antonio, his Arm in a Scarf, and lays hold on the Pistol. Ang. 
Antonio! what Devil brought thee hither?  Anto. 
Love and Curiosity, seeing your Coach at door.  
Let me disarm you of this unbecoming instrument of death— amongst the Number of your slaves, was there not one, worthy the Honour to have fought your quarrel?  Takes away the Pistol. 
— Who are you Sir, that are so very wretched  
To merit death from her?  Will. 
One Sir, that could have made a better End of an Amorous quarrel without you, than with you.  Anto. 
Sure 'tis some Rival,— hah— the very Man took down her Picture yesterday— the very same that set on me last night— blessed opportunity—  [Offers to shoot him. Ang. 
Hold, you're mistaken Sir.  Anto. 
By Heaven the very same!  
— Sir, what pretensions have you to this Lady?  Will. 
Sir, I do not use to be Examined, and am Ill at all disputes but this—  [Draws: Anton. offers to shoot. Ang. 
Oh hold! you see he's Armed with certain death;  [To Will. 
— And you Antonio, I command you hold,  
By all the Passion you've so lately vowed me.  Enter Don Pedro, seas Antonio, and stays. Ped. 
Ha, Antonio! and Angellica!  [Aside. Anto. 
When I refuse obedience to your Will,  
May you destroy me with your Mortal hate.  
By all that's Holy I Adore you so,  
That even my Rival, who has Charms enough  
To make him fall a Victim to my jealousy  
Shall live, nay and have leave to love on still.  Ped. 
What's this I hear?  [aside. Ang. 
Ah thus! 'twas thus! he talked, and I believed.  [Pointing to Will. 
— (Antonio,) yesterday,  
I'd not have sold my Interest in his heart,  
For all the Sword has won and lost in Battle.  
— But now to show my utmost of contempt,  
I give thee Life— which if thou wouldst preserve,  
Live where my Eyes may never see thee more,  
Live to undo some one, whose Soul may prove,  
So bravely constant to revenge my Love.  [Goes out, Ant. follows, but Ped. pulls him back. Ped. 
Antonio— stay.  Ant. 
Don Pedro—  Ped. 
What Coward fear was that prevented thee  
From meeting me this morning on the Molo?  Anto. 
Meet thee?  Ped. 
Yes me; I was the Man that dared thee to't.  Anto. 
Hast thou so often seen me fight in War,  
To find no better Cause to excuse my absence?  
— I sent my Sword and ●●e to do thee right,  
Finding myself uncapable to use a Sword.  Ped. 
But 'twas Florinda's Quarrel that we fought,  
And you to show how little you esteemed her,  
Sent me your Rival, giving him your Interest.  
— But I have found the cause of this affront,  
And when I meet you fit for the dispute,  
— I'll tell you my resentment.  Ant. 
I shall be ready, Sir, e'er long to do you reason.  [Ex. Anto. Ped. 
If I could find Florinda, now whilst my anger's high,  
I think I should be kind, and give her to Belvile in revenge.  Will. 
Faith, Sir, I know not what you would do, but I believe the Priest within has been so kind.  Ped. 
How! my Sister Married?  Will. 
I hope by this time he is, and bedded too, or he has not  
My longings about him.  Ped. 
Dares he do this! does he not fear my Power?  Will. 
Faith not at all, if you will ' go in, and thank him for the favour he has done your Sister, so, if not, Sir, my Powers greater in this house than yours, I have a damned surly Crew here, that will keep you till the next Tide, and then clap you on board for Prize; my Ship lies but a League off the Molo, and we shall show your Donship a damned Tramontana Rovers Trick.  Enter Belvile. Belu. 
This Rogue's in some new Mischief— had Pedro returned!  Ped. 
Colonel Belvile, I hear you have Married my Sister?  Bell. 
You have heard truth then, Sir.  Ped. 
Have I so; then, Sir, I wish you Joy.  Bel. 
How!  Ped. 
By this embrace I do, and I am glad on't.  Bel. 
Are you in earnest?  Ped. 
By our long Friendship and my obligations to thee, I am,  
The sudden change, I'll give you reasons for anon,  
Come lead me to my Sister,  
That she may know, I now approve her choice.  [Ex. Bel. with Ped. Will. goes to follow them. Enter Helena as before in Boys Clothes, and pulls him back. Will. 
Ha! my Gipsy:— now a thousand blessings on thee for this kindness, Egad Child I was e'en in despair of ever seeing thee again; my Friends are all provided for within, each Man his kind Woman.  Hell. 
Ha! I thought they had served me some such trick!  Will. 
And I was e'en resolved to go aboard, and condemn myself to my lone Cabin, and the thoughts of thee.  Hell. 
And could you have left me behind, would you have been so ill natured?  Will. 
When 'twou'd have broke my Heart Child:— but since we are met again, I defy foul weather to part us.  Hell. 
And would you be a Faithful Friend, now if a Maid should trust you▪  Will. 
For a Friend I cannot promise, thou art of a form so Excellent a Face and Humour, too good for cold dull Friendship; I am parlously afraid of being in Love Child, and you have not forgot how severely you have used me?  Hell. 
That's all one, such usage you must still look for, to find out all your Haunts, to rail at you to all that Love you, till I have made you love only me in your own defence, because no body else will love.  Will. 
But hast thou no better quality, to recommend thyself by.  Hell. 
Faith none Captain:— when 'twill be the greater Charity to take me for thy Mistress. I am alone Child, a kind of Orphan Lover, and why I should die a Maid, and in a Captain's hands too, I do not understand,  Will. 
Egad, I was never clawed away with Broadsides from any Female before, thou hast one Virtue I Adore, good Nature; I hate a Coy demure Mistress, she's as troublesome as a Colt, I'll break none; no give me a mad Mistress when Mewed, and in flying on I dare trust upon the wing, that whilst she's kind will come to the Lure.  Hell. 
Nay as kind as you will good Capt. whilst it lasts, but let's lose no time,  Will. 
My time's as precious to me, as thine can be, therefore dear creature, since we are so well agreed, let's retire to my Chamber, and if ever thou wert treated with such Savory Love!— come— my beds prepared for such a guest all clean and Sweet as thy fair self, I love to steal a Dish and a Bottle with a Friend, and hate long Graces— come let's retire and fall too.  Hell. 
'Tis but getting my consent, and the business is soon done, let but old Gaffer Hymen and his Priest, say amen to't, and I dare lay my Mother's daughter by as proper a Fellow as your Father's Son, without fear or blushing,  Will. 
Hold, hold, no Bugg words Child, Priest and Hymen, prithee add a Hangman to 'em to make up the consort,— no, no, we'll have no Vows but Love, Child, nor witness but the Lover, the kind Deity enjoin naught but Love! and enjoy! Hymen and Priest wait still upon Portion, and Jointure; Love and Beauty have their own Ceremonies; Marriage is as certain a bane to Love, as lending Money is to Friendship: I'll neither ask nor give a Vow,— tho' I could be content to turn Gipsy, and become a left-handed bridegroom, to have the pleasure of working that great Miracle of making a Maid a Mother, if you durst venture; 'tis upse Gipsy that, and if I miss, I'll lose my Labour.  Hell. 
And if you do not lose, what shall I get? a cradle full of noise and mischief, with a pack of repentance at my back? can you teach me to weave Incle to pass my time with? 'tis upse Gipsy that too.  Will. 
I can teach thee to Wove a true love's knot better.  Hell. 
So can my dog.  Will. 
Well, I see we are both upon our Guards, and I see there's no way to conquer good Nature, but by yielding,— here— give me thy hand— one kiss and I am thine—  Hell. 
One kiss! how like my Page he speaks; I am resolved you shall have none, for asking such a sneaking sum,— he that will be satisfied with one kiss, will never die of that longing; good Friend, single kiss, is all your talking come to this?— a kiss, a caudle! farewell Captain, single kiss.  [Going out he stays her. Will. 
Nay if we part so, let me die like a bird upon a bough, at the Sheriff's charge, by Heaven both the Indies, shall not buy thee from me. I adore thy Humour and will marry thee, and we are so of one Humour, it must be a bargain— give me thy hand.— [Kisses her Hand. And now let the blind ones (Love and Fortune) do their worst.  Hell. 
When God-a-mercy Captain!  Will. 
But harkey— the bargain is now made; but is it not fit we should know each others Names? that when we have reason to curse one another hereafter (and People ask me who 'tis I give to the Devil) I may at least be able to tell, what Family you came of.  Hell. 
Good reason, Captain; and where I have cause, (as I doubt not but I shall have plentiful) that I may know at whom to throw my— blessings— I beseech ye your Name.  Will. 
I am called Robert the Constant.  Hell. 
A very fine name; pray was it your Falconer or Butler that Chistened you? do they not use to Whistle when they call you?  Will. 
I hope you have a better, that a man may name without crossing himself, you are so merry with mine.  Hell. 
I am called Helena the Inconstant.  Enter Pedro, Belvile, Florinda, Fred. Vallerias. Ped. 
Ha! Helena!  Florin. 
Hellenah!  Hell. 
The very same— hah my Brother! now Captain show your Love and Courage; stand to your Arms, and defend me bravely, or I am lost for Ever.  Ped. 
What's this I hear! false Girl, how came you hither, and what's your business? Speak.  [Goes roughly to her. Will. 
Hold off Sir, you have leave to parley only.  Puts himself between. Hell. 
I had e'en as good tell it, as you guess it; Faith Brother my business, is the same with all living Creatures of my Age, to love, and be beloved, and here's the Man.  Ped. 
Perfidious Maid, hast thou deceived me too, deceived thyself and Heaven;  Hell. 
'Tis time enough to make my peace with that,  
Be you but kind let me alone with Heaven,  Ped. 
Belvile, I did not expect this false play from you; was't not enough you'd gain Florinda (which I pardoned) but your lewd Friends too must be enriched with the spoils of a Noble Family?  Bell. 
Faith Sir, I am as much surprised at this as you can be: Yet Sir, my Friends are Gentlemen, and aught to be Esteemed for their Misfortunes, since they have the Glory to suffer with the best of Men and Kings; 'tis true, he's a Rover of Fortune, Yet a Prince, aboard his little wooden World.  Ped. 
What's this to the maintenance of a Woman of her Birth and Quality.  Will. 
Faith Sir, I can boast of nothing but a Sword which does me right where ere I come, and has defended a worse Cause than a Woman's; and since I loved her before I either knew her Birth or Name, I must pursue my resolution, and marry her.  Ped. 
And is all your holy intent of becoming a Nun, debauched into a desire of Man?  Hell. 
When— I have considered the matter Brother, and find, the Three hundred thousand Crowns my Uncle left me (and you cannot keep from me) will be better laid out in Love than in Religion, and turn to as good an account,— let most voices carry it, for Heaven or the Captain?  
All cry, a Captain? a Captain?  Hell. 
Look ye Sir, 'tis a clear case.  Ped. 
Oh I am mad— if I refuse, my life's in danger— [aside.— Come— there's one motive induces me— take her— I shall now be free from fears of her Honour, guard it you now, if you can, I have been a slave to't long enough,  [gives her to him. Will. 
Faith Sir, I am of a Nation, that are of opinion a woman's Honour is not worth guarding when she has a mind to part with it.  Hell. 
Well said Captain.  Ped. 
This was your Plot Mistress, but I hope you have married one that will revenge my quarrel to you—  [To Vallerias. Val. 
There's no altering Destiny, Sir.  Ped. 
Sooner than a Woman's Will, therefore I forgive you all— and wish you may get my Father's Pardon as Easily; which I fear.  Enter Blunt dressed in a Spanish Habit, looking very ridiculously; his Man a just his Band. Man. 
'Tis very well Sir—  Blunt. 
Well Sir, 'dshearlikins I tell you 'tis damnable Ill Sir,— a Spanish habit good Lord! Could the Devil and my Tailor devise no other punishment for me, but the Mode of a Nation I abominate?  Bell. 
What's the matter Ned?  Blunt. 
Pray view me round, and judge,—  [Turns round. Bell. 
I must confess thou art a kind of an odd Figure.  Blunt. 
In a Spanish habit with a Vengeance! I had rather be in the Inquisition for Judaisme, than in this Doublet and Breeches, a Pillory were an easy Choler, to this three handfuls high; and these Shoes too, are worse, than the stocks with the sole an Inch shorter than my Foot: In fine, Gentlemen, methinks I look altogether like a Bag of Bays stuffed full of Fool's flesh.  Bell. 
Methinks 'tis well, and makes thee look e'en Cavalier: Come Sir, settle your face, and salute our Friends, Lady—  Blunt. 
Ha!— sayst thou so my Little Rover— [Too Hell. Lady— (if you be one) give me leave to kiss your hand, and tell you adshearlikins for all I look so, I am your humble Servant,— a Pox of my Spanish habit.  Will. 
Hark— what's this?  [Music is heard to play. Enter Boy. joy. 
Sir, as the Custom is, the gay people in Masquerade who male every man's House their own, are coming up:  Enter several Men and Women in Masking Habits with Music, they put themselves in order and Dance. Blunt. 
Adsheartlikins, would 'twere lawful to pull off their false faces, That I might see if my Doxy were not amongst 'em.  Bell. 
Ladies and Gentlemen, since you are come so ap ropo, you must take a small Collation with us.  [To the Masquero's▪ Will. 
Whilst we'll to the Good Man within, who stays to give us a Cast of his Office. [To Hell.— Have you no trembling at the near approach?  Hell. 
No more than you have in an Engagement or a Tempest.  Will. 
Egad thou'rt a brave Girl, and I admire thy Love and Courage.  
Lead on, no other Dangers they can dread,  
Who Venture in the Storms o'th' Marriage Bed.  [Exeunt. 
THE END.    

EPILOGUE.  
THe Banished Cavaliers! a Roving Blade!  
A Popish Carnival! a Masquerade!  
The Devel's in't if this will please the Nation,  
In these our blessed times of Reformation,  
When Conventickling is so much in fashion.  
And yet—  
That Mutinous Tribe less Factions do beget,  
Than your continual differing in Wit;  
Your judgement's (as your Passion's) a disease:  
Nor Muse nor Miss your Appetite can please;  
Your grown as Nice as queasy Consciences,  
Who's each Convulsion, when the Spirit moves,  
Damns every thing, that Maggot disapproves.  
With Canting Rule you would the Stage refine,  
And to Dull Method all our Sense confine.  
With th' Insolence of Common Wealths you rule,  
Where each gay Fop, and Politic grave Fool  
On Monarch Wit impose, without control.  
As for the last, who seldom sees a Play,  
Unless it be the old Black Friar's way,  
Shaking his empty Noddle o'er Bamboo,  
He Cries,— Good Faith, these Plays will never do.  
— Ah, Sir, in my young days, what lofty Wit,  
What high strained Scenes of Fighting there were Writ:  
These are slight airy Toys. But tell me, pray,  
What has the House of Commons done to day?  
Then shows his Politics, to let you see,  
Of State Affairs he'll judge as notably,  
As he can do of Wit and Poetry.  
The younger Sparks, who hither do resort,  
Cry,—  
Pox o' your gentile things, give us more Sport;  
— Damn me, I'm sure 'twill never please the Court.  
Such Fops are never pleased unless the Play  
Be stuffed with Fools, as brisk and dull as they:  
Such might the Half-Crown spare, and in a Glass  
At home, behold a more Accomplished Ass,  
Where they may set their Cravats, Wigs and Faces,  
And Practise all their Buffoonery Grimasses:  
See how this— Huff becomes,— this Damny,— stare,—  
Which they at home may act, because they dare,  
But— must with prudent caution do elsewhere.  
Oh that our noke's, or Tony Lee could show  
A Fop but half so much to th' life as you.   

Postscript.  
This Play had been sooner in Print, but for a Report about the Town (made by some either very Malicious or very Ignorant) that 'twas Thomaso altered; which made the Booksellers fear some trouble from the Proprietor of that Admirable Play, which indeed has Wit enough to stock a Poet, and is not to be pieced or mended by any but the Excellent Author himself; That I have stolen some hints from it, may be a proof, that I valued it more than to pretend to alter it▪ had I had the Dexterity of some Poets, who are not more Expert in stealing than in the Art of Concealing, and who even that way outdo the Spartan-Boyes. I might have appropriated all to myself, but I, vainly proud of my judgement, hang out the Sign of Angellica, (the only stolen Object) to give Notice where a great part of the Wit dwelled; though if the Play of the Novella were as well worth remembering as Thomaso, they might (bating the Name) have as well said, I took it from thence: I will only say the Plot and Business (not to boast on't) is my own: as for the Words and Characters, I leave the Reader to judge and compare 'em with Thomaso, to whom I recommend the great Entertainment of reading it, though had this succeeded ill, I should have had no need of imploring that justice from the Critics, who are naturally so kind to any that pretend to usurp their Dominion, they would doubtless have given me the whole Honour on't. Therefore I will only say in English what the famous Virgil does in Latin; I make Verses, and others have the Fame.  
FINIS.