Will. Oh fie, Sir, the Devil! no ’tis all done by an 160 inchanted Girdle—These damn’d Rascals will spoil all by too gross an Imposition on the Fools. [Aside. Feth. This is the Devil, _Ned_, that’s certain—But hark ye, Mr. Doctor, I hope I shall not have my Mistress inchanted from me by this inchanted Rival, hah? Will. Oh, no, Sir, the Inquisition will never let ’em marry, for fear of a Race of Giants,’twill be worse than the Invasion of the _Moors_, or the _French_: but go—think of your Mistresses Names and Ages, here’s Company, and you would not be seen. [Ex. _Blunt_ and _Feth._ Enter _La Nuche_ and _Aurelia_; _Will._ bows to her. La Nu. Sir, the Fame of your excellent Knowledge, and what you said to me this day; has given me a Curiosity to learn my Fate, at least that Fate you threatened. Will. Madam, from the Oracle in the Box you may be resolved any Question— [Leads her to the Table, where stands a Box full of Balls; he stares on her. —How lovely every absent minute makes her—Madam, be pleas’d to draw from out this Box what Ball you will. [She draws, he takes it, and gazes on her and on it. Madam, upon this little Globe is character’d your Fate and Fortune; the History of your Life to come and past—first, Madam—you’re—a Whore. La Nu. A very plain beginning. Will. My Art speaks simple Truth; the Moon is your Ascendent, that covetous Planet that borrows all her Light, and is in opposition still to _Venus_; and Interest more prevails with you than Love: yet here I find a cross—intruding Line—that does inform me—you have an Itch that way, but Interest still opposes: you are a slavish mercenary Prostitute. La Nu. Your Art is so, tho call’d divine, and all the Universe is sway’d by Interest: and would you wish this Beauty which adorns me, should be dispos’d about for Charity? Proceed and speak more Reason. 161 Will. But _Venus_ here gets the Ascent again, and spite of—Interest, spite of all Aversion, will make you doat upon a Man— [Still looking on, and turning the Ball. Wild, fickle, restless, faithless as the Winds!—a Man of Arms he is—and by this Line—a Captain— [Looking on her.] for _Mars_ and _Venus_ were in conjunction at his Birth—and Love and War’s his business. La Nu. There thou hast toucht my Heart, and spoke so true, that all thou say’st I shall receive as Oracle. Well, grant I love, that shall not make me yield. Will. I must confess you’re ruin’d if you yield, and yet not all your Pride, not all your Vows, your Wit, your Resolution, or your Cunning, can hinder him from conquering absolutely: your Stars are fixt, and Fate irrevocable. La Nu. No,—I will controul my Stars and Inclinations; and tho I love him more than Power or Interest, I will be Mistress of my fixt Resolves—One Question more—Does this same Captain, this wild happy Man love me?