[_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 speak of?
_Hell._ I think-- it is; I cannot swear, but I vow he has just such another lying Lover's look.
[_Hell._ looks in his Face, he gazes on her.
_Will._ Hah! do not I know that Face?-- By Heaven, my little Gipsy! what a dull Dog was I?
Had I but lookt that way, I'd known her.
Are all my hopes of a new Woman banisht? [Aside.
--Egad, if I don't fit thee for this, hang me.
--Madam, I have found out the Plot.
_Hell._ Oh Lord, what does he say? am I discover'd 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'm undone if you discover me.
_Will._ Nay, nay, no cogging; 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 errant Gipsy, the talkingst, pratingst, cantingst little Animal thou ever saw'st.
_Ang._ What news you tell me! that's the thing I mean.
_Hell._ Wou'd 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 her: a German Motion were worth a dozen of her, and a Dream were a better Enjoyment, a Creature of Constitution fitter for Heaven than Man.
_Hell._ Tho I'm sure he lyes, yet this vexes me. [Aside.
_Ang._ You are mistaken, she's a Spanish Woman Made up of no such dull Materials.
_Will._ Materials! Egad, and 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.
_Will._ You may Return, my little Brazen Head, and tell your Lady, that till she be handsom enough to be belov'd, 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 vow'd you will not marry her.
_Hell._ If he swears that, he'll be reveng'd on me indeed for all my Rogueries.
_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 possest of that Foppery, are the most impertinently troublesom 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 inclin'd 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 than does her the Honour to marry her.
_Ang._ By Heaven, there's no Faith in any thing he says.
Enter _Sebastian_.
_Sebast._ 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 _Hellena_.
_Ang._ I'll see him, get my Coach ready.
_Sebast._ It waits you, Madam.
_Will._ This is lucky: 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-- Be gone, 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 are in a 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. _Will._
_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 long'd for Minute were arriv'd, Of some blest Assignation.
In vain I have consulted all my Charms, In vain this Beauty priz'd, in vain believ'd My eyes cou'd 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 belov'd, I am resolv'd to think on a Revenge On him that sooth'd me thus to my undoing. [Exeunt.
SCENE III. _A Street._
Enter _Florinda_ and _Valeria_ in Habits different from what they have been seen in.
_Flor._ We're happily escap'd, yet I tremble still.
_Val._ A Lover and fear! why, I am but half a one, and yet I have Courage for any Attempt. Would _Hellena_ were here. I wou'd fain have had her as deep in this Mischief as we, she'll fare but ill else I doubt.
_Flor._ She pretended a Visit to the Augustine Nuns, but I believe some other design carried her out, pray Heavens we light on her.