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L. _Ful_. I'll not consider why you play the Fool, Present me Rings and Bracelets; why pursue me; Why watch whole Nights before my senseless Door, And take such Pains to shew your self a Coxcomb.

_Gay_. Oh! why all this?

By all the Powers above, by this dear Hand, And by this Ring, which on this Hand I place, On which I've sworn Fidelity to Love; I never had a Wish or soft Desire To any other Woman, Since _Julia_ sway'd the Empire of my Soul.

L. _Ful_. Hah, my own Ring I gave him last night. [_Aside_.

--Your Jewel, Sir, is rich: Why do you part with things of so much value, So easily, and so frequently?

_Gay_. To strengthen the weak Arguments of Love.

L. _Ful_. And leave your self undone?

_Gay_. Impossible, if I am blest with _Julia_.

L. _Ful_. Love's a thin Diet, nor will keep out Cold.

You cannot satisfy your Dunning Taylor, To cry--I am in Love!

Though possible you may your Seamstress.

_Gay_. Does ought about me speak such Poverty?

L. _Ful_. I am sorry that it does not, since to maintain This Gallantry, 'tis said you use base means, Below a Gentleman.

_Gay_. Who dares but to imagine it's a Rascal, A Slave, below a beating--what means my _Julia_?

L. _Ful_. No more dissembling, I know your Land is gone --I know each Circumstance of all your Wants; Therefore--as e'er you hope that I should love you ever-- Tell me--where 'twas you got this Jewel, Sir.

_Gay_. Hah--I hope 'tis no stol'n Goods; [_Aside_.

Why on the sudden all this nice examining?

L. _Ful_. You trifle with me, and I'll plead no more.

_Gay_. Stay--why--I bought it, Madam--

L. _Ful_. Where had you Money, Sir? You see I am No Stranger to your Poverty.

_Gay_. This is strange--perhaps it is a secret.

L. _Ful_. So is my Love, which shall be kept from you.

[_Offers to go_.

_Gay_. Stay, _Julia_--your Will shall be obey'd, [_Sighing_.

Though I had rather die than be obedient, Because I know you'll hate me when 'tis told.

L. _Ful_. By all my Vows, let it be what it will, It ne'er shall alter me from loving you.

_Gay_. I have--of late--been tempted-- With Presents, Jewels, and large Sums of Gold.

L. _Ful_. Tempted! by whom?

_Gay_. The Devil, for ought I know.

L. _Ful_. Defend me, Heaven! the Devil?

I hope you have not made a Contract with him.

_Gay_. No, though in the Shape of Woman it appear'd.

L. _Ful_. Where met you with it?

_Gay_. By Magick Art I was conducted--I know not how, To an inchanted Palace in the Clouds, Where I was so attended-- Young dancing, singing Fiends innumerable.

L. _Ful_. Imagination all!

_Gay_. But for the amorous Devil, the old _Proserpine_.--

L. _Ful_. Ay, she--what said she?--

_Gay_. Not a word: Heaven be prais'd, she was a silent Devil--but she was laid in a Pavilion, all form'd of gilded Clouds, which hung by Geometry, whither I was conveyed, after much Ceremony, and laid in Bed with her; where with much ado, and trembling with my Fears--I forc'd my Arms about her.

L. _Ful_. And sure that undeceiv'd him. [_Aside_.

_Gay_. But such a Carcase 'twas--deliver me--so rivell'd, lean and rough--a Canvas Bag of wooden Ladles were a better Bed-fellow.

L. _Ful_. Now though I know that nothing is more distant than I from such a Monster--yet this angers me. Death! cou'd you love me and submit to this?

_Gay_. 'Twas that first drew me in-- The tempting Hope of Means to conquer you, Wou'd put me upon any dangerous Enterprize: Were I the Lord of all the Universe, I am so lost in Love, For one dear Night to clasp you in my Arms, I'd lavish all that World--then die with Joy.

L. _Ful_. 'Slife, after all to seem deform'd, old, ugly-- [_Walking in a fret_.

_Gay_. I knew you would be angry when you heard it.

[_He pursues her in a submissive posture_.

_Enter Sir_ Cautious, Bearjest, Noisey _and_ Bredwel.

Sir _Cau_. How, what's here?--my Lady with the Spark that courted her last Night?--hum--with her again so soon?--Well, this Impudence and Importunity undoes more City-Wives than all their unmerciful Finery.

_Gay_. But, Madam--

L. _Ful_. Oh, here's my Husband--you'd best tell him your Story--what makes him here so soon?-- [_Angry_.

Sir _Cau_. Me his Story! I hope he will not tell me he'as a mind to cuckold me.

_Gay_. A Devil on him, what shall I say to him?

L. _Ful_. What, so excellent at Intrigues, and so dull at an Excuse?

[_Aside_.

_Gay_. Yes, Madam, I shall tell him--

_Enter _Bellmour.

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