Belv. But here in _Italy_ a Monsieur is the humblest best-bred Gentleman—Duels are so baffled by Bravo’s that an age shews not one, but between a _Frenchman_ and a Hang-man, who is as much too hard for him on the Piazza, as they are for a _Dutchman_ on the new Bridge— But see another Crew. Enter _Florinda_, _Hellena_, and _Valeria_, drest like Gipsies; _Callis_ and _Stephano_, _Lucetta_, _Phillippo_ and _Sancho_ in Masquerade. Hell. Sister, there’s your _Englishman_, and with him a handsom proper Fellow—I’ll to him, and instead of telling him his Fortune, try my own. Will. Gipsies, on my Life—Sure these will prattle if a Man cross their Hands. [Goes to _Hellena_] —Dear pretty (and I hope) young Devil, will you tell an amorous Stranger what Luck he’s like to have? Hell. Have a care how you venture with me, Sir, lest I pick your Pocket, which will more vex your _English_ Humour, than an _Italian_ Fortune will please you. 21 Will. How the Devil cam’st thou to know my Country and Humour? Hell. The first I guess by a certain forward Impudence, which does not displease me at this time; and the Loss of your Money will vex you, because I hope you have but very little to lose. Will. Egad Child, thou’rt i’th’ right; it is so little, I dare not offer it thee for a Kindness—But cannot you divine what other things of more value I have about me, that I would more willingly part with? Hell. Indeed no, that’s the Business of a Witch, and I am but a Gipsy yet—Yet, without looking in your Hand, I have a parlous Guess, ’tis some foolish Heart you mean, an inconstant _English_ Heart, as little worth stealing as your Purse. Will. Nay, then thou dost deal with the Devil, that’s certain—Thou hast guess’d as right as if thou hadst been one of that Number it has languisht for—I find you’ll be better acquainted with it; nor can you take it in a better time, for I am come from Sea, Child; and _Venus_ not being propitious to me in her own Element, I have a world of Love in store—Wou’d you would be good-natur’d, and take some on’t off my Hands. Hell. Why—I could be inclin’d that way—but for a foolish Vow I am going to make—to die a Maid. Will. Then thou art damn’d without Redemption; and as I am a good Christian, I ought in charity to divert so wicked a design—therefore prithee, dear Creature, let me know quickly when and where I shall begin to set a helping hand to so good a Work. Hell. If you should prevail with my tender Heart (as I begin to fear you will, for you have horrible loving Eyes) there will be difficulty in’t that you’ll hardly undergo for my sake. Will. Faith, Child, I have been bred in Dangers, and wear a Sword that has been employ’d in a worse Cause, 22 than for a handsom kind Woman—Name the Danger—let it be any thing but a long Siege, and I’ll undertake it. Hell. Can you storm? Will. Oh, most furiously. Hell. What think you of a Nunnery-wall? for he that wins me, must gain that first.