The feign'd curtizans, or, A nights intrigue a comedy : as it is acted at the Dukes Theatre / written by Mrs. A. Behn.

ACT IV. SCENE I.

Enter Fillamour and Galliard, as in Silvianetta's apartment.

Fill.

—HOw s•…•…ndidly these Common women live, How rich is all we meet with in this Palace, And rather seems th' Apartment of some Prince, Then a Receptickle for lust and shame.

Gall.

You see Ha•…•…y, all the keeping fools are not in our dominions but this grave this wi•…•…e people, are Mistress riden too.

Fill.

〈◊〉〈◊〉 fear we have mistook the house, and the youth that brought us in may have deceived us, on some other design, however whilst I've this—〈◊〉〈◊〉 cannot fear.—

[Draws.

Gall.

A good caution, and I'le stand upon my guard with this, but see—here's one will put us out of doubt.

[Pulls a pistol out of his pocket.

Fill.

Hah! the fair Inchantress!

[Enter Mar. richly and loosly drest.

Mar.

What on your guard my lovely Cavalier! lyes there a danger In this Face and Eyes, that needs that rough resistance? —Hide hide that mark of anger from my sight, And if thou woud'st be absolute conqueror here, Put on soft looks with Eyes all languishing, Words tender, gentle sighs, and kind desires.

Gall.

Death! with what unconcern he hears all this? art thou pos∣sest—pox why dost not answer her?

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Mar.

I hope he will not yield,—

[Aside.

—He stands unmov'd,— Surely I was mistaken in this face, And I believe in charms that have no power.

Gall.

S'death thou deservest not such a Noble creature,— I'le have 'em both my self.—

[Aside.

Fill.

—Yes! thou hast wonderous power, And I have felt it long.

[Pawsingly.

Mar.

How!

Gall.

—I've often seen that face—but 'twas in dreams: And sleeping lov'd Extreamly! And waking—sigh't to find it but a dream, The lovely Phantom vanish't with my slumbers, But left a strong Idea on my heart; Of what I finde in perfect Beauty here, —But with this difference, she was Virtuous too!

Mar.

What silly she was that!

Fill.

She whom I dream't I Lov'd.

Mar.

You only dream't that she was Virtuous too! Virtue it self's a dream of so slight sorce, The very •…•…uttering of Loves wings destroys it, Ambition, or the meaner hope of interest, wakes it to nothing, In men a feeble Beauty, shakes the dull slumber off,—

Gall.

Egad she argues like an Angell Harry!

Fill.

—What hast thou'st made, to damn thy self so young! Hast thou been long thus wicked? hast thou sin'd past Repentance, Heaven may do much, to save so fair a Criminal, Turn yet and be forgiven!

Gall.

What a pox dost thou mean by all this canting?

Mar.

A very pretty Sermon, and from a priest so gay, It cannot chuse but edify. Do Holy men of your Religion Signior, wear all this Habit, Are they thus young, and lovely? sure if they are, Your Congregation's all compos'd of Ladys, The Layety must come abroad for Mistresses.

Fill.

Oh that this charming woman were but honest!

Gall.

'Twere better thou wer't damn'd; honest! Pox thou dost come out with things so malapropo—

Mar.

Come leave this Mask of foolish modesty, And let us hast where Love and Musick call's; Musick! that heightens Love! and makes the soul, Ready for soft impressions!

Gall.

So, she will do his business with a Vengeance!

Fill.

Plague of this tempting woman she will ruin me! I finde weak Virtue melt from round my heart,

To give her Tyrant Image a Possession: So the warm Sun, thaws Rivers Icy tops, Till in the stream he sees his own bright face!

Gall.

Now he comes on apace,—how is't my friend, Thou stand st as thou'dst forgot thy business here! —The woman Harry! the fair Curtizan! Canst thou withstand her charms? I've business of my own, Prethee fall too—and talk of Love to her.

Fill.

Oh I cou'd talk Eternity away, In nothing else but Love!—cou'dst thou be honest?

Mar.

Honest! was it for that you sent two thousand Crowns. Or did believe that trifling sum sufficient, To buy me to the slavery of honesty.

Gall.

Hold there my brave Virago.

Fill.

No, I wou'd sacrifice a Nobler Fortune, To buy thy Virtue home!

Mar.

What shou'd it idling there!

Fill.

Whe—make thee constant to some happy man, That wou'd adore thee for't.

Mar.

Unconscionable! constant at my years? —Oh t'were to cheat a thousand! Who between this and my dull Age of Constancy, Expect the distribution of my Beauty.

Gall.

'Tis a brave wench,—

[Aside.

Fill.

Yet charming as thou art, the time will come When all that Beauty like declining flowers, Will wither on the stalk,—but with this difference, The next kinde Spring, brings youth to flowers again, But faded Beauty never more can bloom, —If intrest make thee wicked, I can supply thy pride.—

Mar.

Curse on your necessary trash!—which I despise, but as 'tis usefull to advance our Love!

Fill.

Is Love thy business, who is there born so high, But Love and Beauty equals, And thou maist chuse from all the wishing world? This wealth together wou'd inrich one man, Which dealt to all wou'd scarce be Charity.

Mar.

Together! 'tis a Mas wou'd Ransome King's! Was all this Beauty given, for one poor petty Conquest; —I might have made a hundred hearts my slaves, In this lost time of bringing one to Reason.— Farewell thou dull Philosopher in Love; When Age has made me wise,—I'le send for you again.

[Offers to go Gall holds her.

Gall.

By this good lighta Noble glorious Whore!

Fill.

Oh stay,—I must not let such Beauty fall, —A whore—consider yet, the charms of Reputation: The ease, the quiet and content of innocence, The awfull Reverence, all good men will pay thee, Who as thou art will gaze without respect, —And cry—what pitty 'tis she is—a whore—

Mar.

O you may give it what course Name you please; But all this youth and Beauty ne're was given, Like Gold to Misers, to be kept from use.

[Going out.

Fill.

Lost lost,—past all Redemption.

Gall.

Nay, Gad thou shalt not lose her so,—I'le fetch her back, And thou shalt ask her pardon.

[Runs out after her.

Fill.

By Heaven 'twas all a dream! an Aiery dream! The Visionary pleasure disappears,—and I'me my self again, —'le fly, before t••e drowsy fit ore'take me.

[Going out, Eeter Gall. and then Marcella.

Gall.

Turn back—she yields, she yields to pardon thee,—gon— Nay hang me if ye part.

[Runs after him, still his Pistol in his hand.

Mar.

Gon—I have no leasure now for more dissembling.

[Takes the Candle and goes in.

Enter Petro, leading in Mr. Tickletext, as by dark.

Pet.

Remain here Signior whilst I step and fetch a light.

Tick.

Do so, do so honest Barberacho!—well my escape even now •…•…rom Sir Signal was Miraculous! thanks to my prudence and prowess, had he discover'd me, my dominion had ended; and my Authority been of non effect certo.

[Philipa at the door puts in Sir Signal.

Phil.

Now Signior yo're out of danger, I'le fetch a Candle, and let •…•…y Lady know of your being here!

[Ex. Phil.

[Sir Sig. advances a little.

Enter Petro with a light, goes between 'em and starts.

Tick.

Sir Signal!—

Sir Sig.

My Governor!

Pet.

The two fools met! a pox of all ill luck: now shall I lose my credit with both my wise Patrons, my Knight I cou'd have put off, with a small Harlot of my own, but my Levite having seen my Lady Cornelia that is La Silvianetta,—None but that Susanna wou'd satisfy his Elder∣ship: but now they have both sav'd me the labour of a farther inventi∣on to dispatch 'em.

Sir Sig.

I perceive my Governor's as much confounded as my self;—I'le take advantage by the forelock, be very impudent and put it upon him faith,—Ah Governor, will you never leave your whoring! never be stayd, sober and discreet as I am

Tick.

So so, undone undone, just my Documents to him.—

[Walks about, Sir Sig. follows.

Sir Sig.

And must I neglect my pretious studys, to follow you, in pure zeal and tender care of your person! will you never consider where you are? in a lewd Papish Country! amongst the Romish Hea∣thens,—and for you a Governor, a Tutor, a director of unbridled youth, a Gown-man, a Polititian, for you I say to be taken at this un∣righteous time of the Night, in a flaunting Cavaliero dress, an unlawful weapon by your side, going the high way to Satan to a Curtizan! and to a Romish Curtizan! Oh abomination, Oh Scandalum infiniti.

Tick.

Paid in my own Coyn!

Pet.

So, I'le leave the devil to rebuke sin, and to my young Lady, for a little of her assistance, in the management of this affair.

[Exit. Pet. Tick.

Tick.

—I do confess,—I grant ye I am in the house of a Curti∣zan, and that I came to visit a Curtizan, and do intend to visit each Night a several Curtizan:—till I have finisht my work.—

Sir Sig.

Every Night one! Oh glutton!

Tick.

—My great work of Conversion,—upon the whole Nation, Generation, and Vocation, of this wicked provoking sort of woman∣kinde; call'd Curtizans:—I will turn 'em—yes I will turn 'em,—for 'tis a shame that Man—shou'd bow down to those that worship Idols!—and now I think Sir, I have sufficiently explain'd the business in hand,—as honest Barberacho is my witness!—And for you—to—scandalize—me—with so naughty an interpretation—afflicteth me wonderfully.—

[Pulls out his hankerchief and weeps.

Sir Sig.

—Alas poor Mr. Tickletext, now as I hope to be sav'd it grieves my heart to see him weep,—faith and troth now, I thought thou had'st some Carnal assignation,—but nere stir I beg thy pardon and think thee as innocent as my self, that I do—but see the Ladys, here—s'life dry your Eyes man!

[Enter Cornelia Phil. and Pet.

Cor.

I cou'd beat thee for being thus mistaken,—and am resolv'd to flatter him into some mischief, to be Reveng'd on 'em for this dis∣appointment, go you and watch for my Cavalier the while.

Tick.

Is she come—Nay then turn me loose to her.—

Cor.

My Cavalier!

[Addressing to Sir Sig. Tick. pulls him by and speaks.

Tick.

—Lady.—

Sir Sig.

You Sir, whe who the devil made you a Cavalier,—most Potentisimo Signiora, I am the man of Title, by Name Sir Signal Buffoon, sole Son and heir to Eight Thousan•…•… pound a year.—

Tick.

Oh Sir, are you the man she looks for?

Sir Sig.

I Sir, No Sir, I'de have ye to know Sir, I scorn any woman be she never so fair, unless her designe be honest and Honourable!

Cor.

The man of all the World I've chosen out, from all the wits and Beauties I have seen;—to have most finely beaten!

Sir Sig.

How! in Love with me already,—she's damnable hand∣some too, now wou'd my Tutor were hang'd a little for an hour or two, out of the way.

[Aside.

Cor.

Why fly you not into my Arms,

[she approching, he shuning

These Arms that were design'd for soft embraces?

Sir Sig.

Ay, and if my Tutor were not here, the devil take him that wou'd hinder'em,—and I think that's civil egad!

Tick.

Whe how now Barberacho, what am I cuz•…•…nd then, and is Sir Signal the Man in savour!

[Aside to •…•…tro.

Pet.

Lord Signior, that so wise a man as you cannot perceive her meaning; for the devil take me if I can,—

[Aside.]

—Whe this is done to take off all suspition from you—and lay it on him;—don't you conceive it Signior!

Tick.

Yes honest Rogue,—Oh the witty wagtail,—I have a part to play too, that shall confirm it—young Gentlewoman.—

Cor.

Ah bell ingrate, is't thus you recompence my suffering Love•…•…? to fly this beauty so ador'd by all, that slight the ready conquest of the world to trust a heart with you,—ah—Traditor Cruella.

Sir Sig.

Poor heart, it goes to the very soul of me to be so coy and scornsull to her that it does, but a pox on't her over-fondness will dis∣cover all.

Tick.

Fly, fly, young man! whilst yet thou hast a spark of virtue shining in thee, fly the temptations of this young hypocrite; the love that she pretends with so much zeal and ardour, is indecent, unwar∣rantable, and unlawful! first indecent as she is woman—for thou art woman—and beautiful woman—yes, very beautifull woman! on whom nature hath shew'd her heighth of excellence in the out-work, but, left the in unfinisht, imperfect and impure.

Cor

Heavens, what have we here!

Sir Sig.

A pox of my Sir Dominie, Now is he beside his Text, and will spoil all.

Tick.

Secondly, Unwarrantable; by what authority dost thou seduce with the allurements of thine eyes, and the conjurements of thy tongue, the wastings of thy hands, and the tinklings of thy feet, the young men in the Villages?

Cor.

Sirrah! how got this madman in? seize him, and take him hence.

Sir Sig.

Corpo de mi my Governour tickles her notably i'saith—but had he let the care of my soul alone to night, and have let me taken care of my body, 'twould have been more material at this time.

Tick.

Thirdly, Unlawful—

Cor.

Quite distracted! in pity take him hence, and leade him into •…•…nesse, 'twill sute his madness best.

Tick.

How, distracted! take him hence!

Pet.

This wa•…•… l•…•…cky—I knew she wou'd come again—take him hence—yes, into her bed-chamber—pretty device to get you to herself Signior.

Tick.

Why but is it—nay, then I will facillitate my departure—therefore I say—oh most beautifull and tempting woman—

[Beginning to pre•…•…h again

Cor.

Away with him, give him •…•…ern straw and darknesse, And cha•…•… him fast for fear of further mischief.

Pet.

She means for fear of losing ye.

Tick.

Ah baggage! as fast as she will in those pretty arms,

[Going to leade him off.

Sir Sig.

Hold, hold man, Mad said ye—ha, ha, ha—mad! whe we have a thousand of these in England that go loose about the streets, and pass with us for as sober di•…•…creet religious persons—As a man shall wish to talk nonsense withall.

Pet.

—You are mistaken Signior, I say he is mad—stark mad,

Sir Sig.

Prethee Barberacho what dost thou mean—

Pet.

To rid him hence that the may be alone with you—'slife Sir, you're madder then he—don't you con•…•…eive—

Sir Sig.

Ay, ay! n•…•…y, I confe•…•…se, Ill•…•…issima Signiora, my Gover∣nour has a Fit that ta•…•…es him now and then, a kinde of a frenzy,—a figary—a whim•…•…e—a m•…•…ot that bites always at naming of Po∣pery:—so—he's •…•…one.—Bellissimo Signiora,—you have most ar∣tificially remov'd him—and this extraordinary proof of your affe•…•… on is a signe of some small kinden•…•…se towards me, and though I was something •…•…oy and reserv'd before my Governour, Excellentissimo Signiora, let me te•…•…l you, your love is not cast away.

Cor.

Oh Sir you blesse too fast! but will you ever love me—

Sir Sig.

Love thee! I and li•…•… with thee too, Most Magnanimous Signiora, and beget a whole Race of Roman Julius Caesa•…•…s upon thee; nay, now we're alone, turn me loose to impudence, i'saith.

[ruffles her, •…•…nter Philipa in haste, shutting the door after her

Phil.

Oh Madam here's the young mad English Cavalier got into the house, and will not be deny'd seeing you.

Cor.

This was lucky!

Sir Sig.

How the mad English Cavalier! If this shou'd be our young Count Galliard now—I were in a sweet taking—oh I know by my fears 'tis he; oh prethee what kinde of a manner of man is he?

Phil.

A handsome—resolute—brave—bold—

Sir Sig.

Oh enough enough—Madam—I'le take my leave—I see you are—something busie at present,—and I'le—

Cor.

Not for the World,—Philipa—bring in the Cavalier—that you may, see there's none here fears him Signior.

Sir Sig.

Oh hold hold,—Madam you are mistaken in that point, for to tell you the truth, I do fear,—having—a certain—aversion or Antipathy,—to—Madam—a Gentleman—whe Madam they're the very Monsters of the Nation, they devour every day a Virgin.—

Cor.

Good Heavens! and is he such a Fury!

Sir Sig.

Oh and the veryest Belzebub,—besides Madam he vow'd my Death, if ever he catch me neer this house, and he ever keeps his word in cases of this Nature,—Oh that's he,

[Knocking at the door

I know it by a certain trembling instinct about me,—Oh what shall I do.—

Cor.

Whe—I know not,—can you leap a high window?

Sir Sig.

—He knocks again,—I protest I'me the worst Vaulter in Christendom,—have ye no moderate danger,—between the two ex∣treams of the window or the mad Count? no Closet,—fear has dwin∣dl'd me to the scantling of a Mousehole.

Cor.

—Let me see,—I have no leasure to pursue my Revenge farther, and will rest satisfy'd with this,—for this time—

[Aside.

—Give me the Candle,—and whilst Philipa is conducting the Cava∣lier to the Alcove by dark,—you may have an opportunity to slip out,—perhaps there may be danger in his being seen,—

[Aside.

—farewell fool.—

[Ex. Cornelia with the Candle, Phil. goes to the door, lets in Gall. takes him by the hand.

Gall.

Pox on't my Knights bound for Vitterbo, and there's no per∣swading him into sase harbour again,—he has given me but two hours to dispatch matters here,—and then I'me to imbark with him upon this new discovery of honourable Love, as he calls it, whose ad∣venturers are sools, and the returning Cargo, that dead Commodity call'd a wife! a Voyage very sutable to my humour,—who's there?—

Phil.

A Slave of Silvianetta's, Sir give me your hand.—

[Ex. Over the stage. Sir Sig. goes out softly.

[The Scene changes to a Bed Chamber Alcove, Petro leading in Tickletext.

Pet.

Now Signior you're safe and happy; in the Bed-Chamber of your Mistress.—who will be here immediately I'me sure, I'le fetch a light and put you to bed in the mean time.—

Tick.

Not before supper I hope honest Barberacho!

Pet.

Oh Signior that you shall do lying, after the manner of the Ancient Romans.

Tick.

Certo, and that was a marevllous good lazy custome.

[Ex. Pet.

Enter Philipa with Galliard by dark.—

Phil.

My Lady will be with you instantly.—

[goes out.

Tick.

Hah, sure I heard some body come softly in at the door: I hope 'tis the young Gentlewoman!

[He advances forward.

Gall.

Silence! and Night! Love and dear opportunity!

[In a soft tone.

Joyn all your aids to make my Silvia kinde, For I am fild with the expecting bliss,

[Tick. thrusts his head out to listen.

And much delay, or disappointment kills me.

Tick.

Disappointment kills me,—and me too certo.—'tis she.—

[Gropes abeut.

Gall.

Oh haste my sair, haste to my longing Arms,— Where are you dear and lovely st of your Sex?

Tick.

That's I, that's I, mi Alma! mea core mea vita!—

[Groping and speaking low.

Gall.

Hah—art thou come my life! my soul! my joy!—

[Goes to embrace, Tick. they meet and kiss.

—S'death what's this a bearded Mistress! Lights lights there, quickly lights,—Nay curse me if thou scap'st me.—

[Tick. struggles to get away, he holds him by the Cravat and Peri∣wig, Enter Petro with a Candle.

Gall.

Barberacho,—consound him 'tis the sool! whom I found this Evening about the House, hovering to roost him here!—hah—what the devil have I caught—a Tarter? Escap't again! the devil's his con∣federate.—

[Groping.

[Pet. puts out the Candle, comes to Tick. unties his Cravat behind, and he slips his head out of the Periwig and gets away, leaving both in Gall.'s hands.

Pet.

Give me your hand, I'le leade you a back pair of stairs through the Garden.

Tick.

Oh any way to save my Reputation—oh—

Gall.

Let me but once more grasp thee, and thou shalt finde more safety in the Devils clutches! none but my Mistress serve ye.

[Gropes out after him

[Pet. with Tick. running over the stage, Gall. after'em, with the Cravat and Perewig in one hand, his Pistol in t'other.

Enter Philipa with a light.

Phil.

Mercy upon us, what's the matter—what noise is this—hah a Pistol—what can this mean?

[A Pistol goes off.

Enter Sir Signal. running.

Sir Sig.

Oh save me, gentle devil, save me, the stairs are fortify'd witk Canons and double Culverins; I'me pursu'd by a whole Regiment of arm'd men! here's gold, gold in abundance! save me—

Phil.

What Canons? what arm'd men?

Sir Sig.

Finding my self pursu'd as I was groping my way through the Hall, and not being able to finde the door, I made towards the

stairs again, at the foot of which I was saluted with a great gaun—a pox of the courtesie.

Gall.

[Without]

Where are ye Knight, buffoon, dog of Egypt?

Sir Sig.

Thunder and Lightning? 'tis Galliards voice—

Phil.

Here, step behinde this hanging—there's a Chimney which may shelter ye till the storm be over,—if you be not smother'd before.

[Puts hi•…•… behinde the Arras,—Enter Gall. as before, and Corn. at the other door.

Cor.

Havens! what rude noise is this?

Gall.

Where have you hid this fool, this lucky fool? He whom blinde chance, and more ill-judging woman Has rais'd to that degree of happinesse That witty men must sigh and toyl in vain for.

Cor.

Wat sool, what happinesse?

Gall.

Cease cunning false one to excuse thy self, See here the Trophees of your shameful choice, And of my ruine, cruel—fair—deceiver!

Cor.

Deceiver Sir, of whom—in what despairing minute did I swear to be a constant Mistress? to what dull whining Lover did I vow and had the heart to break it.

Gall.

Or if thou hadst, I know of no such dog as wou'd believe thee; no, thou art false to thy own charms, and hast betray'd'em

To the possession of the vilest wretch That ever Fortune curst with happiness; False to thy joys, false to thy wit and youth All which thou'st damn'd with so much careful industry To an eternal fool, That all the arts of love can ne're redeem thee!

Sir Sig.

Meaning me, meaning me:

[Peeping out of the Chimny his face blackt.

Cor.

A sool, what indiscretion have you seen in me, shou'd make ye think I wou'd choose a witty man for a lover, who perhaps loves out his moneth in pure good husbandry, and in that time does more mis∣chief then a hundred fools; ye conquer without resistance, ye treat without pity, and triumph without mercy; and when you're gone, the world crys—she had not wit enough to keep him, when indeed you are not sool enough to be kept! thus we forfeit both our Liber∣ties and discretion with you villanous witty men; for wisedom is but good success in things, and those that fail are fools!

Gall.

Most gloriously disputed! You're grown a Machivillian in your Art.

Cor.

Oh necessary Maxims only, and the first Politiques we learn from observation—I've known a Curtezan grown infamous, despis'd, decay'd, and ruin'd, in the possession of you witty men, who when she

had the luck to break her chains, and cast her net for fools, has liv'd in state, finer then Brides upon their wedding-day, and more profuse then the young amorous Coxcomb that set her up an idoll.

Sir Sig.

Well argu'd of my side, I see the Bagage loves me!

[Peeping out with a face more smutted.

Gall.

And hast thou! oh, but prethee Jilt me on, And say thou hast not, destin'd all thy charms, To such a wicked use; Is that dear Face and Mouth for slaves to kiss: Shall those bright Eyes be gaz'd upon, and serve But to reflect the Images of fools?

Sir Sig.

That's I still.

[Peeping more black.

Gall.

Shall that soft tender bosome be approcht, By one who wants a Soul, to breathe in languishment, At every kiss that presses it.

Sir Sig.

Soul, what a pox care I for Soul,—as long as my person is so Amiable.—

Gall.

—No, Renounce that dull discretion that undoes thee, Cunning is cheaply to be wise, leave it to those that have No other powers to gain a Conquest by, It is below thy charms;— —Come swear,—and be forsworn most damnably,— Thou hast not yielded yet; say 'twas intended only, And though thou ly'st, by Heaven I must believe thee,— —Say,—hast thou—given him—all?

Cor.

I've done as bad, we have discourst th'affair, And 'tis concluded on.—

Gall.

As bad! by Heaven much worse! discours'd with him, Were't thou so wretched, so depriv'd of sense, To hold discourse with such an Animal? Damn it! the sin is ne're to be forgiven! —Had'st thou been wanton to that lewd degree, By dark he might have been conducted to thee; Where silently he might have serv'd thy purpose, And thou had'st had some poor excuse for that! But bartering words with fools admits of none.

Cor.

I grant ye,—had I talk't •…•…nse to him,—which had been enough to have lost him for ever.

Sir Sig.

Poor Devil, how fearfull 'tis of losing me!

[Aside.

Gall.

That's some atonement for thy other sins,—come break thy word and wash it quite away.

Sir Sig.

That cogging won't do my good friend, that won't do.

Gall.

Thou shalt be just and perjur'd, and pay my heart the debt of Love you owe it.

Cor.

And wou'd you have the heart—to make a whore of me?

Gall.

With all my Soul, and the Devils in't if I can give thee a greater proof of my passion.

Cor.

I rather fear you wou'd deboch me, into that dull slave call'd a wife:

Gall.

A wife! have I no Conscience, no Honour in me! Prethee believe I wou'd not be so wicked,— No,—my desires are generous! and Noble, To set thee up, that glorious insolent thing, That makes mankinde such slaves! almighty Curtizan! —Come! to thy private Chamber let us haste, The sacred Temple of the God of Love! And consecrate thy power!

[Offers to bear her off

Cor.

Stay, do you take me then for what I seem!

Gall.

I'me sure I do! and wou'd not be mistaken for a Kingdome! But if thou art not! I can soon mend that fault, And make thee so,—come—I'me impatient to begin the Experiment

[Offers again to carry her off.

Cor.

Nay then I am in carnest,—hold mistaken stranger!—I am of Noble birth! and shou'd I in one hapless loving minute, destroy the Honour of my House, ruin my youth and Beauty! and all that virtuous Education, my hoping parents gave me?

Gall.

Pretty dissembl'd pride and innocence! and wounds no less then smiles!—come let us in,—where I will give thee leave to frown and Jilt, such pretty srauds advance the appetite.

[Offers again.

Cor.

By all that's good I am a Maid of Quality! Blest with a Fortune equal to my Birth!

Gall.

I do not credit thee, or if I did! For once I wou'd dispence with Quality, And to express my Love! take thee with all these faults!

Cor.

And being so, can you expect I'le yield?

Gall.

The sooner for that Reason if thou'rt wise; The Quality will take away the scandal,— Do not torment me longer.—

[Offers to lead her again.

Cor.

Stay and be undeceiv'd,—I do conjure ye.—

Gall.

Art thou no Curtizan?

Cor.

Not, on my life nor do intend to be!

Gall.

No prostitute! nor dost intend to be?

Cor.

By all that's good, I only feign'd to be so!

Gall.

No Curtizan! hast thou deceiv'd me then? Tell me thou wicked—honest couzening Beauty! Why did'st thou draw me in, with such a fair pretence, Why such a temping preface to invite, And the whole piece so useless and unedifying? —Heavens! not a Curtizan! Why from thy window did'st thou take my vows,

And make such kinde returns? Oh damn your quality, what honest Whore but wou'd have scorn'd thy cunning.

Cor.

I make ye kinde returns!

Gall.

—Perswade me out of that too! 'twill be like thee!

Cor.

By all my wishes I never held discourse with you—but this Even∣ing since I first saw your face!

Gall.

Oh the Impudence of Honesty and quallity in woman! A plague upon 'em both, they have undone me, Bear witness Oh thou gentle Queen of night, Goddess of shades, ador'd by Lovers most; How oft under thy covert she has damn'd her self, With feigned love to me!

[in passion.

Cor.

Heavens! this is Impudence, that power I call to witness too how damnably thou injur'st me;

[angry.

Gall.

You never from your Window talk't of love to me?

Cor.

Never.

Gall.

So, nor you're no Curtizan;

Cor.

No by my life!

Gall.

So, nor do intend to be, by all that's good;

Cor.

By all that's good never.

Gall.

So,—and you are reall honest, and of quallity?

Cor.

Or may I still be wretched!

Gall.

So, then farewell honesty and quallity!—S'death what a night, what hopes, and what a Mistriss; have I all lost for honesty and quallity!

[offers to go.

Cor.

Stay.—

Gall.

I will be wreck't first,—let go thy hold!

[in fury.

—Unless thou wouldst repent.—

[in a soft tone.

Cor.

I cannot of my fixt resolves for Virtue! —But if you could but—love me—Honourably— For I assum'd this habit and this dress—

Gall.

To cheat me of my heart the readyest way! And now like Gaming Rooks, unwilling to give o're till you have hook't in my last stake my body too, you couzen me with honesty,—oh Damn the dice—Ple have no more on't I, the game's too deep for me! unless you play'd upon the square, Or I cou'd cheat like you—farewell Quallity!—

[goes out.

Cor.

He's gone, Phillipa run and fetch him back; I have but this short night allow'd for Liberty! Perhaps to morrow I may be a slave?

[Ex. Phill.

—Now a my Conscience there never came good of this troublesome virtue—hang't I was too serious, but a Devil on't he looks so Char∣mingly—and was so very pressing I durst trust my gay Humour and good Nature no farther!

[She walks about, Sir Signal peeps and then comes out.

Sir Sig.

He's gone!—so—ha ha ha—as I hope to breath Madam, you have most neatly dispatcht him; poor fool—to compare his wit and his person to mine.—

Cor.

Hah, the Coxcombe here still.—

Sir Sig.

Well this Countenance of mine never fail'd me yet:

Cor.

Ah—

[Looking about on him sees his face black squeeks and runs away.

Sir Sig.

Ah, Whe what the Deavilo's that for,—Whe 'tis I, 'tis I m•…•…st Serenissimo Signiora!

[Gall. returns and Philipa.

Gall.

What noise is that, or is't some new designe. To fetch me back again?

Sir Sig.

How! Galliard return'd!

Gall.

Hah! what art thou? a •…•…ortall or a Devil?

Sir Sig.

How! not know me? now might I pass upon him most dain∣tily for a Devil, but that I have been beaten out of one Devilship al∣ready, and dare venture no more Conjurationing.

Gall.

Dog, what art thou—not speak! Nay then I'le inform my self, and try if you be flesh and blood.

[Kicks him, he avoids.

Sir Sig.

No matter for all this—'tis better to be kick't then discove∣red, for then I shall be kill'd!—and I can sacrifice a limb or two to my reputation at any time!

Gall.

Death, 'tis the fool, the fool for whom I am abus'd and jilted, 'tis some revenge to disappoint her cunning, and drive the slave before me—Dog! were you her last reserve.—

[kicks him, he keeps in his cry.

Sir Sig.

Still I say Mum!

Gall.

The Asse will still appear through all disguises, Nor can the Devils shape secure the fool—

[Kicks him he runs out as Cor. enters and holds Gall.

Cor.

Hold Tyrant—

Gall.

Oh Women! Women! fonder in your Appetites Then Beasts; and more unnatural!

For they but couple with their kinde, but you Promiscuously shuffle your Brutes together

The sop of business with the lazy Gown-man—the learned Asse with the Illiterate wit. The empty coxcombe with the Pollititian, as Dull and insignificant as he; from the gay fool made more a beast by fortune to all the loath'd infirmities of Age!

—Farewell—I scorn to crowd with the dull Herd! Or graze upon the common where they batten—

[Goes out.

Fill.

I know he loves, by this concern I know it, And will not let him part disatisfy'd!

[Goes out.

Cor.

—By all that's good I love him more each

[Enter Marcella.

moment, and know he's destin'd to be mine.—

—What hopes Marcella, what i'st we next shall do?

Mar.

Fly to our last reserve, come let's haste and dress! in that dis∣guise we took our flight from Vitterbo in,—and somthing—I resolve!

Cor.

My soul informs me what!—I ha't! a project worthy of us both—Which whilst we dress I'le tell thee,—and by which My dear Marcella we will stand or fall, 'Tis our last stake we fet; and have at all.—