Blunt. Cruel, adsheartlikins as a Gally-slave, or a _Spanish_ Whore: Cruel, yes, I will kiss and beat thee all over; kiss, and see thee all over; thou shalt lie with me too, not that I care for the Injoyment, but to let you see I have ta’en deliberated Malice to thee, and will be revenged on one Whore for the Sins of another; I will smile and deceive thee, flatter thee, and beat thee, kiss and swear, and lye to thee, imbrace thee and rob thee, as she did me, fawn on thee, and strip thee stark naked, then hang thee out at my Window by the Heels, with a Paper of scurvey Verses fasten’d to thy Breast, in praise of damnable Women—Come, come along. Flor. Alas, Sir, must I be sacrific’d for the Crimes of the most infamous of my Sex? I never understood the Sins you name. Blunt. Do, persuade the Fool you love him, or that one of you can be just or honest; tell me I was not an easy Coxcomb, or any strange impossible Tale: it will be believ’d sooner than thy false Showers or Protestations. A Generation of damn’d Hypocrites, to flatter my very Clothes from my back! dissembling Witches! are these the Returns you make an honest Gentleman that trusts, believes, and loves you?—But if I be not even with you—Come along, or I shall— [Pulls her again. Enter _Frederick_. Fred. Hah, what’s here to do? Blunt. Adsheartlikins, _Fred_. I am glad thou art come, to be a Witness of my dire Revenge. Fred. What’s this, a Person of Quality too, who is upon 84 the Ramble to supply the Defects of some grave impotent Husband? Blunt. No, this has another Pretence, some very unfortunate Accident brought her hither, to save a Life pursued by I know not who, or why, and forc’d to take Sanctuary here at Fools Haven. Adsheartlikins to me of all Mankind for Protection? Is the Ass to be cajol’d again, think ye? No, young one, no Prayers or Tears shall mitigate my Rage; therefore prepare for both my Pleasure of Enjoyment and Revenge, for I am resolved to make up my Loss here on thy Body, I’ll take it out in kindness and in beating. Fred. Now, Mistress of mine, what do you think of this? Flor. I think he will not—dares not be so barbarous. Fred. Have a care, _Blunt_, she fetch’d a deep Sigh, she is inamour’d with thy Shirt and Drawers, she’ll strip thee even of that. There are of her Calling such unconscionable Baggages, and such dexterous Thieves, they’ll flea a Man, and he shall ne’er miss his Skin, till he feels the Cold. There was a Country-man of ours robb’d of a Row of Teeth whilst he was sleeping, which the Jilt made him buy again when he wak’d—You see, Lady, how little Reason we have to trust you. Blunt. ’Dsheartlikins, why, this is most abominable. Flor. Some such Devils there may be, but by all that’s holy I am none such, I entered here to save a Life in danger. Blunt. For no goodness I’ll warrant her.