_An Entry of three Men and three Women of several Nations._ _Bass._ I can't imagine where I dropt my Letter: Pray Heaven it be where none can ever find it. Gods! Let me once enjoy her, then call on me Your Store of Plagues, and I will meet 'em all. _Enter_ Ludovico, _singing_. _Lud._ Ah! Mistress _Lucy_! I'm come thou see'st----I expect thou shalt be as good as thy Word, Child----is the Lady here? _Lucy._ The Lady is forth-coming, if you are still in the same Mind? L. _Piz._ My Lover here! Harkee, _Lucy_. _Lucy._ By and by, Madam, I am catering for myself now----Well, Sir, will two thousand Pistoles do? _Lud._ I must humour her----[_Aside._] Ay Child. _Lucy._ Why then I take you at your Word, Sir, and can produce the aforesaid Sum----[_To_ Piz.] With a little of your Assistance, My Lord. _Lud._ (_aside._) Hum----A pretty Wife I am like to have----Catch me there if you can---- _Piz._ Ha----How's that? _Lud._ How! Mistress _Lucy_, worth two thousand Pistoles? _Lucy._ Ay: And I have a very good Pay-master for one Half of it too--Do you know this Hand, my Lord? [_To_ Pizalto.] (_Shews the Bond._) _Piz._ (_aside._) Confound your jilting Sneer. _Lud._ Ha, ha, ha----What, a thousand Pistoles a Dish, my Lord? I hope you don't change often, ha----ha---- _Piz._ Hussy, I'll be reveng'd----'Tis all false, 'tis counterfeit. _Lucy._ Ha--ha--But it had been current Coin, if I had suffer'd you to put your Stamp upon't----in my Bed-chamber, my Lord---- L. _Piz._ How, Mistress, have you trick'd my Husband out of a thousand Pistoles, and never told me of it? _Lucy._ Nay, Madam, don't frown----Remember you have trick'd him out of something too, which I never told him of--Don't urge me to more Discoveries. _Lud._ (_aside._) So----Here's Trick upon Trick: But, Faith, you shall never trick me out of my Liberty. I'm not so fond of a Wife to marry a Chamber-maid, tho' with ten Times as much Money: And so, sweet Mistress _Abigail_, your humble Servant. [_Exit_ Ludovico. L. _Piz._ (_aside.]_) The Jade has me upon the Hip--I must be silent. _She who has her Husband's Bed abus'd,_ _Can ne'er expect she should be better us'd._ [Exit. _Lucy._ Ha----What! my Lover gone! With all my Heart: Better now than after; for whilst I have my Fortune in my own Hands, I must have no Need to sue for a separate Maintenance, and get nothing for it neither. _Arm._ to _Pla._ Now, Madam, go: May Heaven be propitious To your Designs: I'll stay and watch _Bassino_: And when he goes, will follow with _Alonzo_.