_Aria._ Hold, if she take him not away, I shall disappoint my Man-- faith, I'll not be out-done in Generosity.
[Gives him to _La Nuche_.
Here-- Love deserves him best-- and I resign him-- Pox on't I'm honest, tho that's no fault of mine; 'twas Fortune who has made a worse Exchange, and you and I should suit most damnably together.
[To _Beau._
_Beau._ I am sure there's something in the Wind, she being in the Garden, and the Door left open. [Aside.] --Yes, I believe you are willing enough to part with me, when you expect another you like better.
_Aria._ I'm glad I was before-hand with you then.
_Beau._ Very good, and the Door was left open to give admittance to a Lover.
_Aria._ 'Tis visible it was to let one in to you, false as you are.
_La Nu._ Faith, Madam, you mistake my Constitution, my Beauty and my Business is only to be belov'd not to love; I leave that Slavery for you Women of Quality, who must invite, or die without the Blessing; for likely the Fool you make choice of wants Wit or Confidence to ask first; you are fain to whistle before the Dogs will fetch and carry, and then too they approach by stealth: and having done the Drudgery, the submissive Curs are turn'd out for fear of dirtying your Apartment, or that the Mungrils should scandalize ye; whilst all my Lovers of the noble kind throng to adore and fill my Presence daily, gay as if each were triumphing for Victory.
_Aria._ Ay this is something; what a poor sneaking thing an honest Woman is!
_La Nu._ And if we chance to love still, there's a difference, your Hours of Love are like the Deeds of Darkness, and mine like cheerful Birds in open Day.
_Aria._ You may, you have no Honour to lose.
_La Nu._ Or if I had, why should I double the Sin by Hypocrisy?
[_Lucia_ squeaks within, crying, help, help.
_Aria._ Heavens, that's _Lucia's_ Voice.
_Beau._ Hah, more caterwauling?
Enter _Lucia_ in haste.
_Luc._ Oh, Madam, we're undone; and, Sir, for Heaven's sake do you retire.
_Beau._ What's the matter?
_Luc._ Oh you have brought the most villainous mad Friend with you-- he found me sitting on a Bank-- and did so ruffle me.
_Aria._ Death, she takes _Beaumond_ for the Stranger, and will ruin me.
_Luc._ Nay, made love so loud, that my Lord your Father-in-law, who was in his Cabinet, heard us from the Orange-Grove, and has sent to search the Garden-- and should he find a Stranger with you-- do but you retire, Sir, and all's well yet.
[To _Beaumond_.
_Aria._ The Devil's in her Tongue. [Aside.
_Luc._ For if Mr. _Beaumond_ be in the House, we shall have the Devil to do with his Jealousy.
_Aria._ So, there 'tis out.
_Beau._ She takes me for another-- I am jilted every where-- what Friend?-- I brought none with me.-- Madam, do you retire-- [To _La Nuche_.
_La Nu._ Glad of my Freedom too-- [Goes out.
[A clashing of Swords within. Enter _Willm._ fighting, prest back by three or four Men, and _Abevile_, _Aria._ and _Luc._ run out.
_Beau._ Hah, set on by odds; hold, tho thou be'st my Rival, I will free thee, on condition thou wilt meet me to morrow morning in the Piazza by day break.
[Puts himself between their Swords, and speaks to _Will._ Aside.
_Will._ By Heaven I'll do it.
_Beau._ Retire in safety then, you have your pass.
_Abev._ Fall on, fall on, the number is increas'd. [Fall on Beau.
_Beau._ Rascals, do you not know me?
[Falls in with 'em and beats them back, and goes out with them.
_Will._ Nay, and you be so well acquainted, I'll leave you-- unfortunate still I am; my own well meaning, but ill Management, is my eternal Foe: Plague on 'em, they have wounded me-- yet not one drop of Blood's departed from me that warm'd my Heart for Woman, and I'm not willing to quit this Fairy-ground till some kind Devil have been civil to me.
Enter _Ariadne_ and _Lucia_.
_Aria._ I say, 'tis he: thou'st made so many dull Mistakes to Night, thou darest not trust thy Senses when they're true-- How do you, Sir?
_Will._ That Voice has Comfort in't, for 'tis a Woman's: hah, more Interruption?
_Aria._ A little this way, Sir.
[Ex. _Aria_, and _Will._ into the Garden.
Enter _Beaumond_, _Abevile_ in a submissive Posture.
_Beau._ No more excuses-- By all these Circumstances, I know this _Ariadne_ is a Gipsy. What difference then beween a money-taking Mistress and her that gives her Love? only perhaps this sins the closer by't, and talks of Honour more: What Fool wou'd be a Slave to empty Name, or value Woman for dissembling well? I'll to _La Nuche_-- the honester o'th' two-- _Abevile_-- get me my Musick ready, and attend me at _La Nuche's_.
[Ex. severally.
_Luc._ He's gone, and to his Mistress too.
Enter _Ariadne_ pursu'd by _Willmore_.
_Will._ My little _Daphne_, 'tis in vain to fly, unless like her, you cou'd be chang'd into a Tree: _Apollo's_ self pursu'd not with more eager Fire than I.
[Holds her.
_Aria._ Will you not grant a Parly e'er I yield?
_Will._ I'm better at a Storm.
_Aria._ Besides, you're wounded too.
_Will._ Oh leave those Wounds of Honour to my Surgeon, thy Business is to cure those of Love. Your true bred Soldier ever fights with the more heat for a Wound or two.
_Aria._ Hardly in Venus' Wars.
_Will._ Her self ne'er thought so when she snatcht her Joys between the rough Encounters of the God of War. Come, let's pursue the Business we came for: See the kind Night invites, and all the ruffling Winds are husht and still, only the Zephirs spread their tender Wings, courting in gentle Murmurs the gay Boughs; 'twas in a Night like this, Diana taught the Mysteries of Love to the fair Boy Endymion. I am plaguy full of History and Simile to night.