[Ex. all, some one way, some another, the Forepart of the Church shuts over, except _Will._ _Blunt_, _Aria_, and _Lucia_. Will. She’s gone, and all the Plagues of Pride go with her. Blunt. Heartlikins, follow her—Pox on’t, an I’d but as good a Hand at this Game as thou hast, I’ll venture upon any Chance— Will. Damn her, come, let’s to Dinner. Where’s _Fetherfool?_ Blunt. Follow’d a good Woodman, who gave him the Sign: he’ll lodge the Deer e’er night. Will. Follow’d her—he durst not, the Fool wants Confidence enough to look on her. Blunt. Oh you know not how a Country Justice may be improved by Travel; the Rogue was hedg’d in at home with the Fear of his Neighbours and the Penal Statutes, now he’s broke loose, he runs neighing like a Stone-Horse upon the Common. 135 Will. However, I’ll not believe this—let’s follow ’em. [Ex. _Will._ and _Blunt_. Aria. He is in love, but with a Courtezan—some Comfort that. We’ll after him—’Tis a faint-hearted Lover, Who for the first Discouragement gives over. [Ex. _Ariadne_ and _Lucia_. ACT II. Scene I. The Street. Enter _Fetherfool_ and _Sancho_, passing over the Stage; after them _Willmore_ and _Blunt_, follow’d by _Ariadne_ and _Lucia_. Will. ’Tis so, by Heaven, he’s chaffering with her Pimp. I’ll spare my Curses on him for having her, he has a Plague beyond ’em. —Harkye, I’ll never love, nor lie with Women more, those Slaves to Lust, to Vanity and Interest. Blunt. Ha, Captain! [Shaking his Head and smiling. Will. Come, let’s go drink Damnation to ’em all. Blunt. Not all, good Captain. Will. All, for I hate ’em all— Aria. Heavens! if he should indeed! [Aside. Blunt. But, _Robert_, I have found you most inclined to a Damsel when you had a Bottle in your Head. Will. Give me thy Hand, _Ned_—Curse me, despise me, point me out for Cowardice if e’er thou see’st me court a Woman more: Nay, when thou knowest I ask any of the Sex a civil Question again—a Plague upon ’em, how they’ve handled me—come, let’s go drink, I say—Confusion to the Race—A Woman!—no, I will be burnt with my own Fire to Cinders e’er any of the Brood shall lay my Flame— Aria. He cannot be so wicked to keep this Resolution sure— [She passes by. 136 Faith, I must be resolv’d—you’ve made a pious Resolution, Sir, had you the Grace to keep it— [Passing on he pauses, and looks on her. Will. Hum—What’s that? Blunt. That—O—nothing—but a Woman—come away. Will. A Woman! Damn her, what Mischief made her cross my way just on the Point of Reformation! Blunt. I find the Devil will not lose so hopeful a Sinner. Hold, hold, Captain, have you no Regard to your own Soul? ’dsheartlikins, ’tis a Woman, a very errant Woman. Aria. Your Friend informs you right, Sir, I am a Woman. Will. Ay, Child, or I were a lost Man—therefore, dear lovely Creature— Aria. How can you tell, Sir? Will. Oh, I have naturally a large Faith, Child, and thou’st a promising Form, a tempting Motion, clean Limbs, well drest, and a most damnable inviting Air.