La Nu. He’s gone—gone to the Arms of some gay generous Maid, who nobly follows Love’s diviner Dictates, whilst I ’gainst Nature studying thy dull Precepts, and to be base and infamously rich, have barter’d all the Joys of human Life—Oh give me Love: I will be poor and love. Pet. She’s lost—but hear me— La Nu. I won’t, from Childhood thou hast trained me up in Cunning, read Lectures to me of the use of Man, but kept me from the knowledge of the Right; taught me to jilt, to flatter and deceive: and hard it was to learn th’ ungrateful Lessons. But oh how soon plain Nature taught me Love, and shew’d me all the cheat of thy false Tenents—No—give me Love with any other Curse. Pet. But who will give you that when you are poor? when you are wretchedly despis’d and poor? La Nu. Hah! Pet. Do you not daily see fine Clothes, rich Furniture, Jewels and Plate are more inviting than Beauty unadorn’d? be old, diseas’d, deform’d, be any thing, so you be rich and splendidly attended, you’ll find your self lov’d and ador’d by all—But I’m an old fool still—Well, _Petronella_, had’st thou been half as industrious in thy Youth as in thy Age—thou hadst not come to this. [Weeps. La Nu. She’s in the right. Pet. What can this mad poor Captain do for you, love you whilst you can buy him Breeches, and then leave you? A Woman has a sweet time on’t with any Soldier-Lover of ’em all, with their Iron Minds, and Buff Hearts; feather’d Inamorato’s have nothing that belongs to Love but his Wings, the Devil clip ’em for _Petronella_. 185 La Nu. True—he can ne’er be constant. [Pausing. Pet. Heaven forbid he should! No, if you are so unhappy as that you must have him, give him a Night or two and pay him for’t, and send him to feed again: But for your Heart, ’Sdeath, I would as soon part with my Beauty, or Youth, and as necessary a Tool ’tis for your Trade—A Curtezan and love! but all my Counsel’s thrown away upon ye. [Weeps. La Nu. No more, I will be rul’d—I will be wise, be rich; and since I must yield somewhere, and some time, _Beaumond_ shall be the Man, and this the Night; he’s handsom, young, and lavishly profuse: This Night he comes, and I’ll submit to Interest. Let the gilded Apartment be made ready, and strew it o’er with Flowers, adorn my Bed of State; let all be fine; perfume my Chamber like the Phœnix’s Nest, I’ll be luxurious in my Pride to Night, and make the amorous prodigal Youth my Slave. Pet. Nobly resolv’d! and for these other two who wait your coming, let me alone to manage. [Goes out. Scene changes to a Chamber, discovers _Fetherfool_ in Bed. Feth. This Gentlewoman is plaguy long in coming:—some Nicety now, some perfum’d Smock, or Point Night-Clothes to make her more lovely in my Eyes: Well, these Women are right City Cooks, they stay so long to garnish the Dish, till the Meat be cold—but hark, the Door opens. Enter _Carlo_ softly, half undrest.