Will. I do not—find—it here—only a possibility incourag’d by your Love—Oh that you cou’d resist—but you are destin’d his, and to be ruin’d. [Sighs, and looks on her, she grows in a Rage. La Nu. Why do you tell me this? I am betray’d, and every caution blows my kindling Flame—hold—tell me no more—I might have guess’d my Fate, from my own Soul have guest it—but yet I will be brave, I will resist in spite of Inclinations, Stars, or Devils. Will. Strive not, fair Creature, with the Net that holds you, you’ll but intangle more. Alas! you must submit and be undone. La Nu. Damn your false Art—had he but lov’d me too, it had excus’d the Malice of my Stars. Will. Indeed, his Love is doubtful; for here—I trace him in a new pursuit—which if you can this Night prevent, perhaps you fix him. La Nu. Hah, pursuing a new Mistress! there thou 162 hast met the little Resolution I had left, and dasht it into nothing—but I have vow’d Allegiance to my Interest—Curse on my Stars, they cou’d not give me Love where that might be advanc’d—I’ll hear no more. [Gives him Money. Enter Shift. Shift. Sir, there are several Strangers arriv’d, who talk of the old Oracle. How will you receive ’em? Will. I’ve business now, and must be excus’d, a while.—Thus far—I’m well; but I may tell my Tale so often o’er, till, like the Trick of Love, I spoil the pleasure by the repetition.—Now I’ll uncase, and see what Effects my Art has wrought on _La Nuche_, for she’s the promis’d Good, the Philosophick Treasure that terminates my Toil and Industry. Wait you here. [Ex. _Will._ Enter _Ariadne_ in Mens Clothes, with _Lucia_ so drest, and other Strangers. Aria. How now, Seignior Operator, where’s this renowned Man of Arts and Sciences, this Don of Wonders?—hah! may a Man have a Pistole’s Worth or two of his Tricks? will he shew, Seignior? Shift. Whatever you dare see, Sir. Aria. And I dare see the greatest Bug-bear he can conjure up, my Mistress’s Face in a Glass excepted. Shift. That he can shew, Sir, but is now busied in weighty Affairs with a Grandee. Aria. Pox, must we wait the Leisure of formal Grandees and Statesmen—ha, who’s this?—the lovely Conqueress of my Heart, _La Nuche._ [Goes to her, she is talking with _Aurel._ La Nu. What foolish thing art thou? Aria. Nay, do not frown, nor fly; for if you do, I must arrest you, fair one. La Nu. At whose Suit, pray? Aria. At Love’s—you have stol’n a Heart of mine, and us’d it scurvily. 163 La Nu. By what marks do you know the Toy, that I may be no longer troubled with it? Aria. By a fresh Wound, which toucht by her that gave it bleeds anew, a Heart all over kind and amorous. La Nu. When was this pretty Robbery committed? Ana. To day, most sacrilegiously, at Church, where you debauch’d my Zeal; and when I wou’d have pray’d, your Eyes had put the Change upon my Tongue, and made it utter Railings: Heav’n forgive ye! La Nu. You are the gayest thing without a Heart, I ever saw.