Will. Hold, hold, no Bugg Words, Child, Priest and _Hymen_: prithee add Hangman to ’em to make up the Consort—No, no, we’ll have no Vows but Love, Child, 101 nor Witness but the Lover; the kind Diety injoins naught but love and enjoy. _Hymen_ and Priest wait still upon Portion, and Joynture; Love and Beauty have their own Ceremonies. Marriage is as certain a Bane to Love, as lending Money is to Friendship: I’ll neither ask nor give a Vow, tho I could be content to turn Gipsy, and become a Left-hand Bridegroom, to have the Pleasure of working that great Miracle of making a Maid a Mother, if you durst venture; ’tis upse Gipsy that, and if I miss, I’ll lose my Labour. Hell. And if you do not lose, what shall I get? A Cradle full of Noise and Mischief, with a Pack of Repentance at my Back? Can you teach me to weave Incle to pass my time with? ’Tis upse Gipsy that too. Will. I can teach thee to weave a true Love’s Knot better. Hell. So can my Dog. Will. Well, I see we are both upon our Guard, and I see there’s no way to conquer good Nature, but by yielding—here—give me thy Hand—one Kiss and I am thine— Hell. One Kiss! How like my Page he speaks; I am resolv’d you shall have none, for asking such a sneaking Sum—He that will be satisfied with one Kiss, will never die of that Longing; good Friend single-Kiss, is all your talking come to this? A Kiss, a Caudle! farewel, Captain single-Kiss. [Going out he stays her. Will. Nay, if we part so, let me die like a Bird upon a Bough, at the Sheriff’s Charge. By Heaven, both the _Indies_ shall not buy thee from me. I adore thy Humour and will marry thee, and we are so of one Humour, it must be a Bargain—give me thy Hand— [Kisses her hand.] And now let the blind ones (Love and Fortune) do their worst. Hell. Why, God-a-mercy, Captain! Will. But harkye—The Bargain is now made; but is it not fit we should know each other’s Names? That when 102 we have Reason to curse one another hereafter, and People ask me who ’tis I give to the Devil, I may at least be able to tell what Family you came of. Hell. Good reason, Captain; and where I have cause, (as I doubt not but I shall have plentiful) that I may know at whom to throw my—Blessings—I beseech ye your Name. Will. I am call’d _Robert the Constant_. Hell. A very fine Name! pray was it your Faulkner or Butler that christen’d you? Do they not use to whistle when then call you? Will. I hope you have a better, that a Man may name without crossing himself, you are so merry with mine. Hell. I am call’d _Hellena the Inconstant_. Enter _Pedro_, _Belvile_, _Florinda_, _Fred_. _Valeria_. Ped. Hah! _Hellena!_ Flor. _Hellena!_ Hell. The very same—hah my Brother! now, Captain, shew your Love and Courage; stand to your Arms, and defend me bravely, or I am lost for ever. Ped. What’s this I hear? false Girl, how came you hither, and what’s your Business? Speak. [Goes roughly to her. Will. Hold off, Sir, you have leave to parly only. [Puts himself between.