Ang. His words go thro me to the very Soul. [Aside.] —If you have nothing else to say to me. Will. Yes, you shall hear how infamous you are— For which I do not hate thee: But that secures my Heart, and all the Flames it feels Are but so many Lusts, I know it by their sudden bold intrusion. The Fire’s impatient and betrays, ’tis false— For had it been the purer Flame of Love, I should have pin’d and languished at your Feet, E’er found the Impudence to have discover’d it. I now dare stand your Scorn, and your Denial. Moret. Sure she’s bewitcht, that she can stand thus tamely, and hear his saucy railing.—Sirrah, will you be gone? Ang. How dare you take this liberty?—Withdraw. [_To _Moret.__] 40 —Pray, tell me, Sir, are not you guilty of the same mercenary Crime? When a Lady is proposed to you for a Wife, you never ask, how fair, discreet, or virtuous she is; but what’s her Fortune—which if but small, you cry—She will not do my business—and basely leave her, tho she languish for you.—Say, is not this as poor? Will. It is a barbarous Custom, which I will scorn to defend in our Sex, and do despise in yours. Ang. Thou art a brave Fellow! put up thy Gold, and know, That were thy Fortune large, as is thy Soul, Thou shouldst not buy my Love, Couldst thou forget those mean Effects of Vanity, Which set me out to sale; and as a Lover, prize My yielding Joys. Canst thou believe they’l be entirely thine, Without considering they were mercenary? Will. I cannot tell, I must bethink me first—ha, Death, I’m going to believe her. [Aside. Ang. Prithee, confirm that Faith—or if thou canst not—flatter me a little, ’twill please me from thy Mouth. Will. Curse on thy charming Tongue! dost thou return My feign’d Contempt with so much subtilty? [Aside. Thou’st found the easiest way into my Heart, Tho I yet know that all thou say’st is false. [Turning from her in a Rage. Ang. By all that’s good ’tis real, I never lov’d before, tho oft a Mistress. —Shall my first Vows be slighted? Will. What can she mean? [Aside. Ang. I find you cannot credit me. [In an angry tone. Will. I know you take me for an errant Ass, An Ass that may be sooth’d into Belief, And then be us’d at pleasure. —But, Madam I have been so often cheated By perjur’d, soft, deluding Hypocrites, 41 That I’ve no Faith left for the cozening Sex, Especially for Women of your Trade. Ang. The low esteem you have of me, perhaps May bring my Heart again: For I have Pride that yet surmounts my Love. [She turns with Pride, he holds her. Will. Throw off this Pride, this Enemy to Bliss, And shew the Power of Love: ’tis with those Arms I can be only vanquisht, made a Slave. Ang. Is all my mighty Expectation vanisht? —No, I will not hear thee talk,—thou hast a Charm In every word, that draws my Heart away. And all the thousand Trophies I design’d, Thou hast undone—Why art thou soft? Thy Looks are bravely rough, and meant for War. Could thou not storm on still? I then perhaps had been as free as thou.