Feth. A Pox _Nicholas_ ye, I have been mall’d and beaten within doors, and hang’d and bastinado’d without doors, lost my Clothes, my Money, and all my Moveables; but this is nothing to the Secret taking Air. Ah, dear _Seignior_, convey me to the Mountebanks, there I may have Recruit and Cure under one. ACT V. Scene I. A Chamber. _La Nuche_ on a Couch in an Undress, _Willmore_ at her Feet, on his Knees, all unbraced: his Hat, Sword, &c. on the Table, at which she is dressing her Head. Will. Oh Gods! no more! I see a yielding in thy charming Eyes; 190 The Blushes on thy Face, thy trembling Arms, Thy panting Breast, and short-breath’d Sighs confess, Thou wo’t be mine, in spite of all thy Art. La Nu. What need you urge my Tongue then to repeat What from my Eyes you can so well interpret? [Bowing down her Head to him and sighing. —Or if it must—dispose me as you please— Will. Heaven, I thank thee! [Rises with Joy. Who wou’d not plough an Age in Winter Seas, Or wade full seven long Years in ruder Camps, To find out this Rest at last?— [Leans on, and kisses her Bosom. Upon thy tender Bosom to repose; To gaze upon thy Eyes, and taste thy Balmy Kisses, [Kisses her. —Sweeter than everlasting Groves of Spices, When the soft Winds display the opening Buds: —Come, haste, my Soul, to Bed— La Nu. You can be soft I find, when you wou’d conquer absolutely. Will. Not infant Angels, not young sighing _Cupids_ Can be more; this ravishing Joy that thou hast promis’d me, Has form’d my Soul to such a Calm of Love, It melts e’en at my Eyes. La Nu. What have I done? that Promise will undo me. —This Chamber was prepar’d, and I was drest, To give Admittance to another Lover. Will. But Love and Fortune both were on my side—Come, come to Bed—consider nought but Love— [They going out, one knocks. La Nu. Hark! Beau. (_without._) By Heav’n I will have entrance. La Nu. ’Tis he whom I expect; as thou lov’st Life And me, retire a little into this Closet. Will. Hah, retire! La Nu. He’s the most fiercely jealous of his Sex, And Disappointment will inrage him more. 191 Will. Death: let him rage whoe’er he be; dost think I’ll hide me from him, and leave thee to his Love? Shall I, pent up, thro the thin Wainscot hear Your Sighs, your amorous Words, and sound of Kisses? No, if thou canst cozen me, do’t, but discreetly, And I shall think thee true: I have thee now, and when I tamely part With thee, may Cowards huff and bully me. [Knocks again. La Nu. And must I be undone because I love ye? This is the Mine from whence I fetcht my Gold. Will. Damn the base Trash: I’ll have thee poor, and mine; ’Tis nobler far, to starve with him thou lov’st Than gay without, and pining all within. [Knocking, breaking the Door, _Will._ snatches up his Sword. La Nu. Heavens, here will be murder done—he must not see him. [As _Beau._ breaks open the Door, she runs away with the Candle, they are by dark, _Beau._ enters with his Sword drawn. Will. What art thou?