Fred. Ay, this is something! here’s a Woman!—When shall I be blest with so much kindness from your fair Mouth?—Take the Jewel, Fool. [Aside to _Belv._ Belv. You tempt me strangely, Madam, every way. Flor. So, if I find him false, my whole Repose is gone. [Aside. Belv. And but for a Vow I’ve made to a very fine Lady, this Goodness had subdu’d me. 50 Fred. Pox on’t be kind, in pity to me be kind, for I am to thrive here but as you treat her Friend. Hell. Tell me what did you in yonder House, and I’ll unmasque. Will. Yonder House—oh—I went to—a—to—why, there’s a Friend of mine lives there. Hell. What a she, or a he Friend? Will. A Man upon my Honour! a Man—A She Friend! no, no, Madam, you have done my Business, I thank you. Hell. And was’t your Man Friend, that had more Darts in’s Eyes than _Cupid_ carries in a whole Budget of Arrows? Will. So— Hell. Ah such a _Bona Roba_: to be in her Arms is lying in _Fresco_, all perfumed Air about me—Was this your Man Friend too? Will. So— Hell. That gave you the He, and the She—Gold, that begets young Pleasures. Will. Well, well, Madam, then you see there are Ladies in the World, that will not be cruel—there are, Madam, there are— Hell. And there be Men too as fine, wild, inconstant Fellows as your self, there be, Captain, there be, if you go to that now—therefore I’m resolv’d— Will. Oh! Hell. To see your Face no more— Will. Oh! Hell. Till to morrow. Will. Egad you frighted me. Hell. Nor then neither, unless you’l swear never to see that Lady more. Will. See her!—why! never to think of Womankind again? Hell. Kneel, and swear. [Kneels, she gives him her hand. 51 Hell. I do, never to think—to see—to love—nor lie with any but thy self. Hell. Kiss the Book. Will. Oh, most religiously. [Kisses her Hand. Hell. Now what a wicked Creature am I, to damn a proper Fellow. Call. Madam, I’ll stay no longer, ’tis e’en dark. [To _Flor._ Flor. However, Sir, I’ll leave this with you—that when I’m gone, you may repent the opportunity you have lost by your modesty. [Gives him the Jewel, which is her Picture, and Ex. He gazes after her. Will. ’Twill be an Age till to morrow,—and till then I will most impatiently expect you—Adieu, my dear pretty Angel. [Ex. all the Women. Belv. Ha! _Florinda’s_ Picture! ’twas she her self—what a dull Dog was I? I would have given the World for one minute’s discourse with her.— Fred. This comes of your Modesty,—ah pox on your Vow,’twas ten to one but we had lost the Jewel by’t. Belv. _Willmore!_ the blessed’st Opportunity lost!—_Florinda_, Friends, _Florinda!_ Will. Ah Rogue! such black Eyes, such a Face, such a Mouth, such Teeth,—and so much Wit! Belv. All, all, and a thousand Charms besides. Will. Why, dost thou know her? Belv. Know her! ay, ay, and a Pox take me with all my Heart for being modest. Will. But hark ye, Friend of mine, are you my Rival? and have I been only beating the Bush all this while?