Blunt.A How! to be sold! nay then I have nothing to say to her—sold! what Impudence is practis’d in this Country?—With Order and Decency Whoring’s established here by virtue of the Inquisition—Come let’s be gone, I’m sure we’re no Chapmen for this Commodity. Fred. Thou art none, I’m sure, unless thou could’st have her in thy Bed at the Price of a Coach in the Street. Will. How wondrous fair she is—a Thousand Crowns a Month—by Heaven as many Kingdoms were too little. A plague of this Poverty—of which I ne’er complain, but when it hinders my Approach to Beauty, which Virtue ne’er could purchase. [Turns from the Picture. Blunt. What’s this?— [Reads] _A Thousand Crowns a Month!_ —’Sheartlikins, here’s a Sum! sure ’tis a mistake. —Hark you, Friend, does she take or give so much by the Month! Fred. A Thousand Crowns! Why, ’tis a Portion for the _Infanta_. Blunt. Hark ye, Friends, won’t she trust? 31 Brav. This is a Trade, Sir, that cannot live by Credit. Enter _Don Pedro_ in Masquerade, follow’d by _Stephano_. Belv. See, here’s more Company, let’s walk off a while. [_Pedro_ Reads. [Exeunt _English_. Enter _Angelica_ and _Moretta_ in the Balcony, and draw a Silk Curtain. Ped. Fetch me a Thousand Crowns, I never wish to buy this Beauty at an easier Rate. [Passes off. Ang. Prithee what said those Fellows to thee? Brav. Madam, the first were Admirers of Beauty only, but no purchasers; they were merry with your Price and Picture, laught at the Sum, and so past off. Ang.B No matter, I’m not displeas’d with their rallying; their Wonder feeds my Vanity, and he that wishes to buy, gives me more Pride, than he that gives my Price can make me Pleasure. Brav. Madam, the last I knew thro all his disguises to be Don _Pedro_, Nephew to the General, and who was with him in _Pampelona_. Ang. Don _Pedro!_ my old Gallant’s Nephew! When his Uncle dy’d, he left him a vast Sum of Money; it is he who was so in love with me at _Padua_, and who us’d to make the General so jealous. Moret. Is this he that us’d to prance before our Window and take such care to shew himself an amorous Ass? if I am not mistaken, he is the likeliest Man to give your Price. Ang. The Man is brave and generous, but of an Humour so uneasy and inconstant, that the victory over his Heart is as soon lost as won; a Slave that can add little to the Triumph of the Conqueror: but inconstancy’s the Sin of all Mankind, therefore I’m resolv’d that nothing but Gold shall charm my Heart. Moret. I’m glad on’t; ’tis only interest that Women of 32 our Profession ought to consider: tho I wonder what has kept you from that general Disease of our Sex so long, I mean that of being in love.