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Title:  An evening's love, or, The mock-astrologer acted at the Theatre-Royal, by His Majesties servants / written by John Dryden.
Author: Dryden, John, 1631-1700.
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Mask.If you will discover nothing of 'em, let me discourse with you a little.Beat.As little as you please.Mask.They are rich I suppose.Beat.Now you are talking of them agen: but they are as rich, as they are fair.Mask.Then they have the Indies: well, but their Names my sweet Mistress.Beat.Sweet Servant their Names are—Mask.Their Names are—out with it boldly—Beat.A secret not to be disclos'd.Mask.A secret say you? Nay, then I conjure you as you are a Woman tell it me.Beat.Not a syllable.Mask.Why then as you are a Waiting-woman: as you are the Sieve of all your Ladies Secrets tell it me.Beat.You lose your labour: nothing will strain through me.Mask.Are you so well stop'd i'th' bottom?Beat.It was enjoyn'd me strictly as a Secret.Mask.Was it enjoyn'd thee strictly, and can'st thou hold it? Nay then thou art invincible: but, by that face, that more than ugly face, which I suspect to be under thy Vaile, disclose it to me.Beat.By that Face of thine, which is a Natural Visor: I will not tell thee.Mask.By thy—Beat.No more Swearing I beseech you.Mask.That Woman's worth little that is not worth an Oath: well, get thee gone, now I think on't thou shalt not tell me.Beat.Shall I not? Who shall hinder me? They are Don Alonzo de Ribera's Daughters.Mask.Out, out: I'le stop my Eares.Beat.—They live hard by, in the Calle maior.Mask.O infernal Tongue—Beat.And are going to the next Chappel with their Father.Mask.Wilt thou never have done tormenting me? in my 0