_Flor._ She'll be disappointed then, who expects you this Night at the Garden-gate, and if you'll 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 Callis, who observes 'em.
_Belv._ What canst thou mean?
_Flor._ That which I say-- Farewel. [Offers to go.
_Belv._ Oh charming Sybil, 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.
_Belv._ 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 time 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 except Lucetta.
_Fred._ Do you know the Hand?
_Belv._ 'Tis _Florinda's_. All Blessings fall upon the virtuous Maid.
_Fred._ Nay, no Idolatry, a sober Sacrifice I'll allow you.
_Belv._ Oh Friends! the welcom'st News, the softest Letter!-- nay, you shall 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.
_Belv._ See how kindly she invites me to deliver her from the threaten'd 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?
_Belv._ How mean you?
_Will._ How should I mean? Thou know'st there's but one way for a Woman to oblige me.
_Belv._ Don't prophane-- 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.
_Belv._ Read here this Postscript. [Gives him a Letter.
_Will._ [Reads.] _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._-- 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.
_Fred._ Let her alone for that: your Woman's Wit, your fair kind Woman, will out-trick a Brother or a Jew, and contrive like a Jesuit in Chains-- but see, _Ned Blunt_ is stoln out after the Lure of a Damsel.
[Ex. _Blunt_ and _Lucet._
_Belv._ So he'll scarce find his way home again, unless we get him cry'd by the Bell-man in the Market-place, and 'twou'd 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 sell him for _Peru_, 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-favour'dly bang'd, and turn'd out naked at Midnight.
_Will._ Prithee what Humour is he of, that you wish him so well?
_Belv._ Why, of an _English_ Elder Brother's Humour, educated in a Nursery, with a Maid to tend him till Fifteen, and lies with his Grand-mother 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 Landry-Maid; gets drunk at a Hunting-Match, and ten to one then 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 damn'd stingy 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.
_Belv._ 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 lucky Devil to light upon so kind a Wench!
_Fred._ Thou hadst a great deal of talk with thy little Gipsy, coud'st thou do no good upon her? for mine was hard-hearted.
_Will._ Hang her, she was some damn'd 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 fir'd with a Beauty newly come to Town, the famous _Paduana_ _Angelica Bianca_.
_Will._ What, the Mistress of the dead _Spanish_ General?
_Belv._ Yes, she's now the only ador'd 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 Birth-Day, 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?
_Belv._ None, she's exposed to Sale, 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.
_Belv._ 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. [Exeunt.
ACT II.