Will. Hum—what have we here? another Damsel?—she’s gay too, and seems young and handsom—sure one of these will fall to my share; no matter which, so I am sure of one. La Nu. Who’s silent now? are you struck dumb with Guilt? thou shame to noble Love; thou scandal to all brave Debauchery, thou Fop of Fortune; thou slavish Heir to Estate and Wife, born rich and damn’d to Matrimony. Will. Egad, a noble Wench—I am divided yet. La Nu. Thou formal Ass disguis’d in generous Leudness, see—when the Vizor’s off, how sneakingly that empty form appears—Nay ’tis thy own—Make much on’t, marry with it, and be damn’d. [Offers to go. Will. I hope she’ll beat him for suspecting her. [He holds her, she turns. Aria. Hah—who the Devil can these be? La Nu. What silly honest Fool did you mistake me for? what senseless modest thing? Death, am I grown so despicable? have I deserv’d no better from thy Love than to be taken for a virtuous Changeling? Will. Egad, ’twas an Affront. [Aside. La Nu. I’m glad I’ve found thee out to be an errant Coxcomb, one that esteems a Woman for being chaste forsooth! ’Sheart, I shall have thee call me pious shortly, a most—religious Matron! Will. Egad, she has reason— [Aside. Beau. Forgive me—for I took ye—for another. [Sighing. La Nu. Oh did you so? it seems you keep fine Company the while—Death, that I should e’er be seen with such a vile Dissembler, with one so vain, so dull and so impertinent, as can be entertain’d by honest Women! 175 Will. A Heavenly Soul, and to my Wish, were I but sure of her. Beau. Oh you do wondrous well t’accuse me first! yes, I am a Coxcomb—a confounded one, to doat upon so false a Prostitute; nay to love seriously, and tell it too: yet such an amorous Coxcomb I was born, to hate the Enjoyment of the loveliest Woman, without I have the Heart: the fond soft Prattle, and the lolling Dalliance, the Frowns, the little Quarrels, and the kind Degrees of making Peace again, are Joys which I prefer to all the sensual, whilst I endeavour to forget the Whore, and pay my Vows to Wit, to Youth and Beauty. Aria. Now hang me, if it be not _Beaumond_. Beau. Would any Devil less than common Woman have serv’d me as thou didst? say, was not this my Night? my paid for Night? my own by right of Bargain, and by Love? and hast not thou deceiv’d me for a Stranger? Will. So—make me thankful, then she will be kind. [Hugs himself. Beau. —Was this done like a Whore of Honour think ye? and would not such an Injury make me forswear all Joys of Womankind, and marry in mere spite? La Nu. Why where had been the Crime had I been kind? Beau. Thou dost confess it then. La Nu. Why not? Beau. Those Bills of Love the oftner paid and drawn, make Women better Merchants than Lovers. La Nu. And ’tis the better Trade. Will. Oh Pox, there she dasht all again. I find they calm upon’t, and will agree, therefore I’ll bear up to this small Frigate and lay her aboard. [Goes to _Ariadne_.