DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

MEN.

Don Antonio, the Vice-Roy’s Son,

Don Pedro, a Noble Spaniard, his Friend,
Belvile, an English Colonel in love with Florinda,
Willmore, the ROVER,
Frederick, an English Gentleman, and Friend
to Belvile and Blunt,
Blunt, an English Country Gentleman,
Stephano, Servant to Don Pedro,
Philippo, Lucetta’s Gallant,
Sancho, Pimp to Lucetta,
Biskey and Sebastian, two Bravoes to Angelica.
Diego, Page to Antonio
Philip, Blunt’s Man.

WOMEN.
Florinda, Sister to Don Pedro,
Hellena, a gay young Woman design’d for a Nun, and Sister
to Florinda,
Valeria, a Kinswoman to Florinda,
Angelica Bianca, a famous Courtesan,
Moretta, her Woman,
Callis, Governess to Florinda and Hellena,
Lucetta, a jilting Wench,

ACT I.

SCENE I. A chamber.

Enter Florinda, Valeria and Hellena.

Flor. What an impertinent thing is a young Girl bred in a Nunnery! How full of Questions! Prithee no
more, Hellena; I have told thee more than thou understand’st already.
Hell. The more’s my Grief; I would fain know as much as you, which makes me so inquisitive; nor is’t
enough to know you’re a Lover, unless you tell me too, who ’tis you sigh for.
Flor. When you are a Lover, I’ll think you fit for a Secret of that nature.
Hell. ’Tis true, I was never a Lover yet— but I begin to have a shrewd Guess, what ’tis to be so, and
fancy it very pretty to sigh, and sing, and blush and wish, and dream and wish, and long and wish to
see the Man; and when I do, look pale and tremble; just as you did when my Brother brought home
the fine English Colonel to see you— what do you call him? Belvile.
Flor. Fie, Hellena.
Hell. …Or is it Don Antonio the Viceroy’s Son?—or perhaps the rich old Don Vincentio, whom my
father designs for your Husband?—Why do you blush?
Flor. With Indignation; and how near so ever my Father thinks I am to marrying that hated Object,
I shall let him see I understand better what’s due to my Beauty, Birth and Fortune, than to obey those
unjust Commands.

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Hell. Now hang me, if I don’t love thee for that dear Disobedience. I love Mischief strangely, as most
of our Sex do, who are come to love nothing else—But tell me, dear Florinda, don’t you love that
fine Belvile
Flor. Hellena, a Maid design’d for a Nun ought not to be so curious in a Discourse of Love.
Hell. And dost thou think that ever I’ll be a Nun?
Flor/ Valer Yes!
Hellena Or at least till I’m so old, I’m fit for nothing else. Prithee tell me, what dost thou see about me
that is unfit for Love—have not I a world of Youth? a Humour gay? a Beauty passable? a Vigour
desirable? well shaped? clean limbed? sweet breathed? and Sense enough to know how all these
ought to be employ’d to the best Advantage: yes, I do and will.
Flor Prithee be not so wild.
Valeria, But tell us, Florinda how you came acquainted with this Belvile; for I perceive you knew him
before he came here.
Flor. Yes, I knew him in Spain at the Siege of Pamplona, he was then a Colonel of French Horse, who
when the Town was ransack’d, nobly treated my Brother Pedro and myself,
Hellena Was he not born in this place?
Flor Yes, and went hence to make his fortune. He was in England in the wars and was a cavalier with
Good King Charles. But when the king was headed he turned mercenary and was in France and
Spain and Flanders. And now he is come home with his English friends to see the carnival.
Hell. And thee I warrant
Flor I must own, I have I know not what that pleads kindly for him about my heart.
Hell. And you, sister mouse, How goes it with thine?
Valeria. It hath a kind of carnival bearing. And though I prattle not so much as you sisters, my mind’s
as busy as both of you together. When our brother is gone out in’s finery, I have a device to unfold.
Stephano. Madam your brother comes.

Enter Don Pedro with a Masquing Habit, and Callis.

Pedro. Good morrow, Sister. Florinda, pray, when saw you your Lover Don Vincentio?
Flor. I know not, Sir—Callis, when was he here? For I consider it so little, I know not when it was.
Pedro. I have a Command from my Father here to tell you, you ought not to despise him, a Man of so
vast a Fortune, and such a Passion for you—Stephano, my things—[Puts on his Masquing Habit].
Flor. A Passion for me! ’tis more than e’er I saw. I hate Vincentio, sir, and I would not have a Man so
dear to me as my Brother follow the ill Customs of our Country, and make a Slave of his Sister. Oh
Sweet Pedro, my Father’s Will, I’m sure, you may divert.
Pedro. I know not how dear I am to you, but I wish only to be rank’d in your Esteem, equal with my
friend Colonel Belvile—Why do you frown and blush? Is there any Guilt belongs to the Name of that
Cavalier?
Flor. I’ll not deny I value Belvile: when I was expos’d to such Dangers as the licens’d Lust of common
Soldiers threatened then Belvile threw himself into all Dangers to save my Honour, and will you not
allow him my Esteem?
Pedro. Yes, pay him what you will in Honour—but you must consider Don Vincentio’s Fortune, and
the Jointure he’ll make you.
Flor. Let him consider my Youth, Beauty and Fortune; which ought not to be thrown away on his Age
and Jointure.
Pedro. ’Tis true, he’s not so young and fine a Gentleman as that Belvile—but what Jewels will that
Cavalier present you with? Those of his Eyes and Heart?

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Hell. And are not those better than any Don Vincentio has brought from the Indies?
Pedro. Go Hellena, up to your Devotion, you are not design’d for the Conversation of Lovers.
Hell. Nor Saints yet a while I hope. [Aside.] Is’t not enough you make a Nun of me, but you must cast
my Sister away too, exposing her to a worse confinement than a religious Life?
Pedro. Is it a Confinement to be carry’d into the Country, to a rich Villa with a fine Air, large Fields and
Gardens, where she may walk and gather Flowers?
Hell. And if these be her daily Divertisements, what are those of the Night? to lie in a wide Moth-
eaten Bed-Chamber and there the old giant uncases his feeble carcass, stretches himself, sighs a
belch or two, stales in your pot, farts loud as a musket, throws himself into bed and expects you in his
foul sheets…
Pedro. Have you done yet?
Hell. And this man you must kiss, nay, you must kiss none but him too—and nuzzle through his Beard
to find his Lips—and this you must submit to for threescore Years, and all for a Jointure.
Pedro. For all your Character of Don Vincentio, she is as like to marry him as she was before.
Hell. Marry Don Vincentio! hang me, such a Wedlock would be worse than Adultery with another Man:
Pedro. Callis, take her hence, and lock her up all this Carnival, and at Lent, at the end of the week,
she shall begin her everlasting Penance in a Monastery.
Hell. Shall I so? you may chance to be mistaken in my way of Devotion—A Nun! yes I am like to make
a fine Nun! I have an excellent Humour for a cloister:
Pedro. Callis, make it your Business to watch this wild Cat. Fie, you’re a troublesome pair to me. I
would ye were both as modest as your sister Valeria is. But for you, Florinda, I’ve only try’d you all
this while, and urg’d my Father’s Will; but mine is, that you would love Antonio, the viceroy’s son; he is
brave and young, and all that can complete the Happiness of a gallant Maid—My Father’s absence
will give us opportunity to free you from Vincentio, by marrying here, which you must do to morrow.
Flor. To morrow!
Pedro. To morrow, before my father returns, or ’twill be too late—’tis not only my Friendship
to Antonio, which makes me urge this, but Love to thee; therefore thou shalt stay here in thy chamber
and resolve upon’t tomorrow.
Flor. Sir, I shall strive to do, as shall become your Sister.
Pedro. I’ll both believe and trust you. Callis, look to it. Adieu.
[Ex. Ped. and Steph.]
Hell. As become his Sister!—That is, to be as resolved your way, as he is his But hark you, Callis, you
will not be so cruel to lock me up indeed: will you?

Call. I must obey the Commands I have

Hell. Oh Callis..

Flor. I ne’er till now perceiv’d my Ruin near,

I’ve no Defence against Antonio’s Love,
For he has all the Advantages of Nature,
Both youth and fortune and his power I’this place.

Valeria. You have a defence, Florinda.

Flor. I’ve none. I’m ruined.

Valeria. Fie how dull you [Link] you will marry Belvile within these two days, neither your brother nor
our father can compel you to another. ‘Tis palpable.

Callis. Nay she shall not.

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Flor. But how I am pent up and have no access to him.

Valeria. You shall have if I may rule [Link] you would have man, you must win man, and be a little
wanton ere ye be won. And therefore you must seek him out, and go disguised lest our brother
spy you.

Flor. I dare not.

Callis. Nor is it fitting.

Valeria. Nay listen. I have guises in this chest should serve for all of us to go together. (To Callis).
Yes, and you likewise.

Callis. Me?

Florinda. We dare not be so free.

Valeria. Why think you there be Carnivals, but that men, and women too, may be free as they will ere
Lent be come. Nay dally not.

Callis . You may not.

Valeria. Hellena, here’s stuff for you.

Florinda If Belvile see me in a guise, he’ll think me too free.

Valeria. Nay, you must woo him in semblance of your new person, that at first he may not know you.

Florinda. How?

Valeria. Must I expound to you the very pith of carnival? Why think you our brother Pedro has gone
thither? To lie with wenches.

Hellena. No!!

Valeria. And why in so fantastic and lusty a guise? To maintain his sober reputation to the world. Have
not I heard these say women should do as men do? Florinda undress you straight.

Callis. Valeria, Nay they shall not.

Hellena. Sweet Callis, sweet, sweet Callis-

Callis. What, go in masquerade? ‘Twill be a fine farewell to the world, I take it, What would you do
there?

Hellena. That which all the worl does and take all innocent freedoms. We’ll all go together.

Valeria. Put off this moping humour with your clothes, Florinda. Shall Pedro frolic and leave us three
mewed up?

Florinda. Nay then, we will, but to spite our brother. Callis, will you give us leave to go and try your
future too?

Callis. Faith, I have an itch of going. If I thought your brother might not know it, and I might wait on you
.

Hellena (to Callis) Thou shalt attend and watch us?

Valeria. Then put this and this on.

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Florinda. What wanton gear is this?

Valeria. We shall go as gypsies.

Florinda. I shall be bashful and know not what to say.

Valeria. Fie,be that which I know you only are. If wenches must needs be demure and nice Year in
and out, ‘tis fit they should be free and frolic for one week in the calendar.

Callis. For as ‘tis true, all men are stark mad for wenches, so ‘tis true, however custom pretends
otherwise, that we wenches be as inly stark as men.

(Music without)

Valeria. Hark it begins.

Hellena. Now have I rare itch to dance and lure fellows.

Florinda. Who will like thee well enough to have thee, that sees what a mad wench thou art.

Hellena. Like me? I don’t intend every he that likes me shall have me, but he that I like. I should have
stayed in the nunnery still if I had liked my lady abbess as well as she liked me. No, I came
thence not, as my wise brother imagines, to take an eternal farewell of the world, but to love and
be beloved, or I’ll get one of your men, so I will.

Valeria. Am I put into the number of lovers.

Hellena. You? Why sister, I know thou’rt as hot within as lady in Spain.

Valeria. Then lets vie with one another who shall first win her man.

Florinda. I’ll write a note ere we go, and if I chance to see Belvile, although he will not know me, I’ll
give it to him to let him know Florinda favours him. Yea, and I’ll give him too all the letters I have
writ but dare not send for fear of my brother.

Valeria. Haste Haste.

Callis. Hark how gay it sounds.

Florinda. Fie, Valeria, thou look’st too wanton

.
Valeria. Why so I am, and so will be.

Hellena. Let’s go.

Callis. Now St Jago, that is patron of Carnival, smile on our devising.

Florinda. Why then, lead on. Though I be shamed or shent

I’ll try my fortune too ere it be Lent.
[Exeunt.

SCENE II. A Long Street.

Enter Belvile, melancholy, Blunt and Frederick.

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Fred. Why, what the Devil ails the Colonel, in a time when all the World is gay, to look like mere Lent
thus? Hadst thou been here long enough to have been in love, I should have sworn some such
Judgment had befall’n thee.
Belv. No, I have made no new Amours since I came here.
Fred. You have left none behind you in Paris.
Belv. Neither.
Fred. I can’t divine the Cause then; unless the old Cause, the want of Mony.
Blunt. And another old Cause, the want of a Wench— Wou’d not that revive you?
Belv. You’re mistaken, Ned.
Blunt Nay, ’Sheartlikins, then thou art past Cure.
Fred. I have found it out; thou hast brought us here to pursue thy Acquaintance with the Lady that cost
thee so many Sighs at the Siege of Pamplona—pox on’t, what d’ye call her—Florinda—ay, Florinda—
And will nothing serve thy turn but that damn’d virtuous Woman, whom on my conscience thou lov’st
in spite too, because thou seest little or no possibility of gaining her?
Belv. Thou art mistaken Fred, I have Interest enough in that lovely Virgin’s Heart, to make me proud
and vain, were it not abated by the Severity of a Brother, who perceiving my Happiness—
Fred. Has civilly forbid thee the House?
Belv. ’Tis so, to make way for a powerful Rival, Don Antonio, the Vice-Roy’s Son, who has the
advantage of me, in being a Man of Fortune, a noble Spaniard, and her Brother’s Friend; which gives
him liberty to make his Court, whilst I have recourse only to Letters, and distant Looks from her
Window…
Blunt. Hey day! What the Devil are we made of, that we cannot be thus concern’d for a Wench?—.
Fred. I dare swear I have had a hundred as young, kind and handsom as this Florinda; and Dogs eat
me, if they were not as troublesom to me i’th’ Morning as they were welcome o’er night.
Blunt. And yet, I warrant, he wou’d not touch another Woman, if he might have her for nothing.
Belv. That’s thy Joy, a cheap Whore.
Blunt. Why, ’adsheartlikins, I love a frank Soul—When did you ever hear of an honest Woman that
took a Man’s Money? Yet you cavaliers have been kept so poor with Parliaments and Protectors, that
the little Stock you have is not worth preserving. But I thank my Stars, I have more Grace than to
forfeit my Estate as Fred has, by Cavaliering.

Enter Willmore.
Will. Ha! dear Belvile! noble Colonel!
Belv. Willmore! welcome ashore, my dear Rover!—what happy Wind blew us this good Fortune?
Will. Let me salute you my dear Fred, and then command me—How is’t honest Lad?
Fred. Faith, Sir, the old Complement, infinitely the better to see my dear mad Willmore again—Prithee
why camest thou ashore?
Will. My Business ashore was only to enjoy my self a little this Carnival. I must aboard again in a day
or two.
Frederick. And where’s the prince?
Willmore. He’s well, and reigns still lord of the watery element.
All. (toasting) The Prince!
Belv. Pray know our new Friend, Sir, he’s but bashful, a raw Traveller, but honest, stout, and one of
us.[Embraces Blunt].
Will. That you esteem him, gives him an Interest here.
Blunt. Your Servant, Sir. I am a country gentleman from Essex.

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Will. But well— Faith I’m glad to meet you again in a warm Climate, where the kind Sun has its god-
like Power still over the Wine and Woman.—Love and Mirth are my business here.
Frederick. No friend to love like a long voyage at sea.
Blunt. Except a nunnery.

Frederick. Now for some plump girl, with some brave swelled lips, soft and sweet; their very
sweat’s balsam in the dog days.

Enter several Men in masquing Habits, some playing on Musick, others dancing after; Women
drest like Curtezans, with Papers pinn’d to their Breasts, and Baskets of Flowers in their
Hands.
Belv. See here be those kind Merchants of Love you look for.
Blunt. ’Sheartlikins, what have we here!
Fred. Now the Game [Link] they eye us!
Will. Fine pretty Creatures! may a stranger have leave to look and love?—What’s here—Roses for
every Month! [Reads the Paper].
Blunt. Roses for every Month! what means that?
Belv. They are, or wou’d have you think they’re Courtesans, who here are to be hired by the Month.
Will. Kind and obliging to inform us—Pray where do these Roses grow? I would fain plant some of ’em
in a Bed of mine.
Belv. Thou hast need of such a Remedy, for thou stinkest of Tar and Rope-ends, like a Dock or
Pesthouse.
Lucetta. Beware such roses there.
Willmore. A pox of fear…Death, will you not be so kind? Quickly be kind.
[The Woman puts herself into the Hands of a Man, and Exit.
Will. Nay, nay, you shall not leave me so.
Belv. By all means use no Violence here in Carnival time. I would not have you at your old tricks here
in the place I was bred. .
Will. Death! just as I was going to be damnably in love, to have her led off!
Frederick. Let’s find some other game.
Belvile. But first you must disguise and muzzle yourself as we have done.
Willmore. Why?
Belvile. Because whatever extravagance we commit in masker’s faces our own may not be obliged to
answer them.
Willmore. I’ll not change my eternal buff.
Frederick. Nay you must prank yourself up a little like the rest, for ‘tis Carnival and ‘tis in honour of our
colonel who’s come home.
They get gear and masks
Sancho and Lucetta come forward.

Sancho. These be good game.

Lucetta. And strangers too: I know it by their gazing. They’re English too ,and they say that’s a sort
of good natured loving people, that have generally so kind an opinion of themselves that a woman
with any wit may flatter them into any sort of fool she pleases.
Sancho. Nay, mark yon bumpkin that roars the loudest. When did I mistake your game? Go to it.

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Lucetta. Nay Sancho..
Sancho. Go or I’ll beat thee. Yet, mark. You shall promise much, but pay him little.
Lucetta. Fie on your jealous humour. If I understand my trade , he’s mine. ‘Roses for every month’!
Blunt. So, she’s taken. I have beauties which my glass at home did not discover.
[Blunt leaves with Sancho]
Willmore. What is this Essex calf the first to raise a she hare?
Frederick. I hope ‘tis some common craft sinner, that will sell him for Peru: the rogues sturdy and
would work well in a mine.
Belvile. A pox upon him… he’s our banker and has all our cash about him; and if he fail, we are all
broke.
Frederick. Oh, let him alone for that matter; he’s of a damned stingy quality that will secure our
stock, otherwise, if he part with more than a piece of eight, geld him..
Willmore. Prithee what humour is he of, that you wish him so well?
Belvile. One that knows no pleasure beyond riding to the next fair.
Frederick. Educated in a nursery, with a maid to tend him till fifteen.
Willmore. ‘Tis a lucky devil to light upon so kind a wench! Oh for my arms full of white, kind woman.

Scene 3.

Enter Florinda, Hellena, and Valeria, drest like

Gipsies; Callis and Stephano, Lucetta, Phillippo and Sancho in Masquerade.
Hell. Sister, there’s your colonel.
Valeria. And with him two proper Fellows—
Callis. Nay have a care. The devil’s in in those English when they go abroad.
Fred. Gipsies, on my Life—To them!
Valeria. To them!
Hellena. Callis, do you the like.
Willmore. There’s a likely wench. Would I could drop an anchor in your cove.
Hellena. Yonder in buff’s a proper fellow. I’ll to him, and instead of telling his fortune, try my own.
Willmore. Dear, pretty, and I hope, young devil, will you tell an amorous stranger what luck he’s like to
have.
Hell. Have a care how you venture with me, Sir, lest I pick your Pocket, which will more vex
your English Humour, than a Spanish Fortune will please you.
Will. How the Devil cam’st thou to know my Country and Humour?
Hell. The first I guess by a certain forward Impudence, which does not displease me at this time; and
the Loss of your Money will vex you, because I guess you have but very little to lose.
Will. Egad Child, thou art in the right; it is so little, I dare not offer it thee for a Kindness—But cannot
you divine what other things of more value I have about me, that I would more willingly part with?

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Hell. Indeed no, that’s the Business of a Witch, and I am but a Gipsy yet—Yet, without looking in your
Hand, I have a parlous Guess, ’tis some foolish Heart you mean, an inconstant English Heart, as little
worth stealing as your Purse.
They withdraw. Florinda and Belvile come forward.

Flor. Alas Callis watches me so, I shall get no Opportunity to discover my self to him, and so miss the
intent of my coming—But as I was saying, Sir—by this Line you should be a Lover.[Looking in his
Hand].
Belv. I thought how right you guess’d, all Men are in love, or pretend to be so—Come, let me go, I’m
weary of this fooling.[Walks away.
Flor. I will not, till you have confess’d whether the Passion that you have vow’d Florinda be true or
false.[She holds him, he strives to get from her.
Belv. Florinda! [Turns quick towards her].
Flor. Softly.
Belv. Thou hast named one will fix me here for ever.
Flor. She’ll be disappointed then, who expects you this Night at the Garden-gate, and if you’ll fail not
—as let me see the other Hand—you will go near to do—she vows to die or make you happy.[Looks
on Callis, who observes ’em.]
Belv. What canst thou mean?
Flor. That which I say.
Callis. Madam, beware your brother.
Flor. Farewell
Belv. Oh charming Sybil, stay, complete that Joy, which, as it is, will turn into Distraction!—Where
must I be? at the Garden-gate? I know it—at night you say— I’ll sooner forfeit Heaven than disobey.
Callis. Madam, beware your brother.

Enter Don Pedro and other Masquers, and pass over the Stage.
Flor. Take these to instruct you farther.[Gives him Letters, and goes off.
Fred. Have a care, Sir, what you promise; this may be a Trap to ruin you.
Belv. Do not disturb my Happiness with Doubts.[Takes the Letters and retires]
Valeria. I see sir you mean to ruin me. And so you shall if once you catch me. (Runs off pursued by
Frederick)
Callis. Lo, all three have got a man already. I’ll not dress thus if I go with them again for very shame
no fellow takes me also. And yet I see that women may do most of their business on earth
themselves, if they would but leave their spinning and try. Then if I did not fearmy master’s anger, I
might assay and get some spicy fellow if once I spied on. For I am as eager within as any wench in
Spain. Oh fie, is this she that is to be a nun? [Withdraws]
[Re-enter Willmore and Hellena.]
Hellena. If you should prevail with my tender heart, as I begin to fear you will, for you have horrible
loving eyes, there will be difficulty in’t that you’ll hardly undergo for my sake.
Willmore. Faith child. I have been bred in dangers. Let it be anything but a long siege and I’ll
undertake it.
Hellena. Can you storm?
Willmore. Oh, most furiously.
Hellena. What think you of a nunnery wall? For he that wins me must gain that first.

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Willmore. A nun! Oh now I love you for’t. There’s no sinner like a young saint. Nay, there’s no denying
me; the old law had no curse to a woman like dying a maid; witness Jeptha’s daughter.
Hellena. A good text this, if well handled; I perceive, good father Captain, you design only to make me
fit for heaven, which will grieve me for, when I begin, I fancy I shall love like anything; I never tried yet.
Willmore. Egad and that’s kind. Prithee dear creature give me credit for a heart, for faith, I’m a very
honest fellow. Oh, I long to come first to the banquet of love. And such a swinging appetite I bring. Oh,
I’m impatient. Thy lodging, sweetheart, thy lodging, or I’m a dead man.
Hellena Why must we be either guilty of fornication or murder if we converse with men? Is there no
difference between leave to love me, and leave to lie with me?
Willmore. Faith, child, they were made to go together.
Hellena. Nay, cans’t thou prove that?
Willmore. Try me.
Hellena. So I mean to if you will meet me in this place after dinner…
Will. My dear pretty Creature, a Thousand Blessings on thee; still in this Habit, you say, and after
Dinner at this Place.
Hell. Yes, if you will swear to keep your Heart, and not bestow it between this time and that.
Will. By all the little Gods of Love I swear, I’ll leave it with you;
Hellena. Then it is possible I may see you.

Exit Willmore
Enter Florinda and Valeria.

Flor. Away, away! Sister, our brother comes.

Valeria. Up with your masks! All’s well. Our men are hooked.
Hellena. Yes, the field’s ours.
Valeria. I warrant you we’ve thumped them.

Exeunt
Enter Frederick and Willmore.
Fred. Thou hadst a great deal of talk with thy little gypsy; could’st thou do no good upon her. Mine
was hardhearted.
Willmore. Hang her, she was some damned honest person of quality. I’m sure, she was so very free
and witty. Pray heaven, if ever I do see her again, she prove damnably ugly, that I may fortify myself
against her tongue.
Fred. Have a care of love, for o’ my conscience she was not of a quality to give thee any hopes.
Willmore. Pox on ‘em, why do they draw a man in then? She has played with my heart so, that ‘twill
never lie still till I have met with some kind wench that will play the game out with me.
Belvile.(entering) Oh friends, the welcomest news! The softest letters! Nay, you shall all see them!
Willmore. The reason of this mighty joy?
Belv. ’Tis Florinda’s hand. All Blessings fall upon the virtuous Maid.
Fred. Nay, no Idolatry, a sober Sacrifice I’ll allow you.
Belv. See how kindly she invites me to deliver her from the threaten’d Violence of her Brother—will
you not assist me?

10
Will. I know not what thou mean’st, but I’ll make one at any Mischief where a Woman’s concerned—
but she’ll be grateful to us for the Favour, will she not?
Belv. How mean you?
Will. How should I mean? Thou know’st there’s but one way for a Woman to oblige me.
Belv. Do not profane—the Maid is nicely virtuous.
Will. Who pox, then she’s fit for nothing but a Husband; let her e’en go, Colonel.
Fred. Peace, she’s the Colonel’s Mistress, Sir.
Will. Let her be the Devil; if she be thy Mistress, I’ll serve her—name the way.
Belv. Read here this postscript. Gives him a Letter.
Will. [Reads.] At Ten at night—at the Garden-Gate—of which, if I cannot get the Key, I will contrive a
way over the Wall—come attended with a Friend or two.—Kind heart, if we three cannot weave a
String to let her down a Garden-Wall,’twere pity but the Hangman wove one for us all.
Fred. Let her alone for that: your Woman’s Wit, your fair kind Woman, will out-trick a Broker or a Jew,

ACT II.

SCENE I. The Long Street.

Enter Blunt.
Blunt. Colonel, I have been an Ass, a deluded Fool, a very Coxcomb from my Birth till this Hour, and
heartily repent my little Faith.
Belv. What the Devil’s the matter with thee Ned?
Blunt. Oh such a Mistress, Fred, such a Girl!
Will. Ha! where?
Fred. Ay where!
Blunt. So fond, so amorous, so toying and fine! and all for sheer Love, ye Rogue!
Will. Death Man, where is she?
Blunt. Oh how she lookt and kiss’d! and sooth’d my Heart from my Bosom. I cannot think I was
awake, and yet methinks I see and feel her Charms still—Fred.—Try if she have not left the Taste of
her balmy Kisses upon my Lips—[Kisses him]. How have I laughed at the Colonel when he sighed for
Love! but now the little Archer has revenged him, Well, I’m resolved to sell all in Essex, and plant here
for ever.
Will. Dost know her Name?
Blunt. Her Name? No,’sheartlikins: what care I for Names? She’s fair, young, brisk and kind, even to
ravishment:
Will. Didst give her anything?
Blunt. Give her!—Ha, ha, ha! why, she’s a Person of Quality—That’s a good one, give her!
’sheartlikins dost think such Creatures are to be bought? Why she presented me with this Bracelet, for
the Toy of a Diamond I used to wear: No, Gentlemen, Ned Blunt is not every Body—She expects me
again to night.
Will. Egad that’s well; we’ll all go.
Blunt. Not a Soul: No, Gentlemen, you are Wits; I am a dull Country Rogue, There are things about
this Essex Calf, that shall take with the Ladies, beyond all your Wits and Parts—This Shape and Size,

11
Gentlemen, are not to be despised; my Waste tolerably long, with other inviting Signs, that shall be
nameless.
Fred. Well, Sir, for all your nameless inviting signs, I shall be very glad to understand your Purse be
secure; ’tis our whole Estate at present.
Belvile. But didst thou give her a diamond say you?
Fred. Pox, Ned ’tis some common Whore upon my Life.
Blunt. A Whore! yes with such Clothes and so attended! A Whore!
Belv. Why yes, Sir, they are all Whores, I know this place, Whores in all those Clothes, and bright
Jewels; Whores with great Houses richly furnisht with Velvet Beds, Store of Plate, handsome
Attendance, and fine Coaches; all Whores and errant ones.
Will. Pox on’t, where do these fine Whores live?
Belvile. I’ll advise thee. One lives near by.

Enter two Bravoes, and hang up a great Picture of Angelica’s

Fred. The famous Castillinia, Angelilica Bianca.
Belvile. See there, a fair sign to the inn where a man may lodge that’s fool enough to give her price.
Blunt. ’Sheartlikins, Gentlemen, what’s this?
Belv. A famous Spanish Courtesan that’s to be sold.
Blunt. How! to be sold! nay then I have nothing to say to her—sold! what Impudence is practised in
this Country? Come let’s be gone, I’m sure we’re no buyers for this Commodity.
Fred. Thou art none, I’m sure, unless thou could’st have her in thy Bed at the Price of a Coach in the
Street.
Will. How wondrous fair she is—a Thousand Crowns a Month—by Heaven as many Kingdoms were
too little. A plague of this Poverty—of which I ne’er complain, but when it hinders my Approach to
Beauty, which Virtue ne’er could purchase.[Turns from the Picture.
Blunt. What’s this?— [Reads] A Thousand Crowns a Month! ’Sheartlikins, here’s a Sum! sure ’tis a
[Link] you, Friend, does she take or give so much by the Month!
Fred. A Thousand Crowns! Why, ’tis a Portion for the Infanta.
Blunt. Hark ye, Friends, won’t she trust?
Seb. This is a Trade, Sir, that cannot live by Credit.
Blunt. See, here’s more Company, let’s be gone to dinner
Fred. Let’s get a wench first.
Belvile. Yea after dinner we’ll pass the day as you please. But at night ye must all be at my devotion.
For then I mean to meet Florinda at the garden gate.
Fred. We will not fail you.
Willmore. I long to see the shadow of that fair substance. .

Exeunt English.
Sebastaian. ‘Tis my opinion this bait will catch no fish. I’d be loath my wages should be deducted out
of the first fruits of so mad a project.
Biskey. Sure ‘tis a dull trade to sit here a watching of shadows. Methinks we would have got more in a
booth with a picture of an elephant for two pence a piece.
Seb. Yet ‘tis better than toiling on the land.
Biskey Yea, and since we’re hired for the time of the Carnival, and since we’re well paid for it, let us
enjoy the time.

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Moretta. You’re vex’d to find the trade so refined here by a stranger.
Angelica. Sebastian.
Moretta. My mistress calls you.
Biskey. Peace she comes.
Sebastian. Well lets praise her still. For vain women are ships that sail only with windy flattery.
Moretta. Make haste you rogues. Pox on these galley slaves. We should have brought our own
bravos from Spain.
Ang. Prithee what said those Fellows to thee that have been here today?
Seb. Madam, the first were Admirers of Beauty only, but no purchasers;
Biskey. They were merry with your Price and Picture, laughed at the Sum, and so past off.
Ang. No matter, I’m not displeas’d with their rallying;
Seb. Madam, the last I knew thro all his disguises to be Don Pedro, Nephew to the General, and who
was with him in Pamplona.
Ang. Don Pedro! The general’s Nephew! When the old gallant died, he left him a vast Sum of Money;
Don Pedro! it is he who was so in love with me at Sevile, and made the old General so jealous.
Moret. if I am not mistaken, he is the likeliest Man to give your Price.
Ang. Nay, he’s of a Humour so uneasy and inconstant, that the victory over his Heart is as soon lost
as won; but inconstancy’s the Sin of all Mankind, therefore I’m resolv’d that nothing but Gold shall
charm my Heart.
Moret. I’m glad on’t; ’tis only interest that Women of our Profession ought to consider: but muse still
what has kept you from that general Disease of our Sex so long, I mean that of being in love.
Ang. A kind, but sullen Star, under which I had the Happiness to be born; yet I have had no time for
Love; I have been too busy winning admiration. I thank my star I have longed for no man yet. What
need I, since all are offered before I ask. I have refused many but never yet desired one.
Moretta. Yet thou hast enjoyed many.
Ang. Yea but they purchased me at a golden rate.
Moretta. Would we were back home again. What needs this Carnival trick? You have youth and future
to spare, and may look about and choose your men at leisure.
Ang. I would not stay one month longer in this town. Moretta but for the vanity and pleasure to see
and be seen. While the old general lived his jealousy kept me dead to the world, neither seen or
enjoyed. But I’ll seek my pleasure now and leave a name and memory behind me. I know there’s few
are like to give the money; nor want I any neither. Yet I’ll have the gusto to see them gaze and sigh
and wish for what they may not have. And when our nine days wonder’s over, we’ll be gone. Nay I
would eat bran ere any lie in breeches in this place should come between my sheets.
Seb. Here’s Don Pedro again.
Moretta. And there’s Antonio the viceroy’s son.
Ang. I’ll, fetch me my Lute—for ’tis for one of these that I have spread my Nets.

Enter at one Door Don Pedro, and Stephano; Don Antonio and Diego [his page], at the other
Door, with People following him in Masquerade, antickly attir’d, some with Musick: they both
go up to the Picture.

Ant. A thousand Crowns! had not the Painter flattered her, I should not think it dear.
Pedro. Flattered her! By Heaven he cannot. I have seen the Original, nor is there one Charm here
more than adorns her Face and Eyes; all this soft and sweet, with a certain languishing Air, that no
Artist can represent.

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Ant. What I heard of her Beauty before had fired my Soul, but this confirmation of it has blown it into a
flame.
Pedro. Ha!
Diego. Sir, I have known you throw away a Thousand Crowns on a worse Face, and tho y’ are near
your Marriage, you may venture a little Love here; Florinda—will not miss it.
Pedro. Ha! Florinda! Sure ’tis Antonio.
Ant. Florinda! name not those distant Joys, there’s not one thought of her will check my Passion here.
Fetch me a thousand crowns. Diego goes
Pedro. Florinda scorn’d! and all my Hopes defeated of the Possession of Angelica! I’ll give her a
thousand crowns ere his be fetched.
Ant. Friend, where must I pay my offering of Love? [To Sebastian.] My Thousand Crowns I mean.

Pedro. That Offering I have designed to make, And yours will come too late. Prithee be gone

Ant. , Who should this rival be. Sirrah, go hence; I shall grow angry else,And then thou art not safe.

Pedro. My Anger may be fatal, Sir, as yours; And he that enters here may prove this Truth.
Ant. I know not who thou art, but I am sure thou’rt worth my killing, for aiming at Angelica
[They draw and fight].

Enter Willmore and Blunt, who draw and part ’em.

Blunt. ’Sheartlikins, here’s fine doings.
Fred. Tilting for the Wench I’m sure—
Will. nay gad, if swords will win her, I have as good a Sword as the best of ye—Put up—put up, and
take another time and place, for this is design’d for Lovers only.[They all put up].

Pedro. We are prevented; dare you meet me to morrow on the Mole? For I’ve a Title to a better
quarrel, That of Florinda, in whose credulous Heart Thou’st made an Interest, and destroyed my
Hopes.
Ant. Dare? Yes for her or for Angellica I’ll meet thee there as early as the Day.
Pedro. We will come thus disguised, that whosoever chance to get the better, he may escape
unknown.
Ant. It shall be so. [Ex. Pedro and Stephano.] Who should this Rival be? unless the English Colonel,
of whom I’ve often heard Don Pedro speak; it must be he, and time he were removed, who lays a
Claim to all my Happiness.
[Willmore having gaz’d all this while on the Picture, pulls down a little one.

Will. This posture’s loose and negligent,

The sight on’t wou’d beget a warm desire
In Souls, whom Impotence and Age had chill’d.
—This must along with me.
Ant. What means this rudeness, Sir?—restore the Picture.
Pedro Ha! Rudeness committed to the fair Angelica!—Restore the Picture, Sir.
Will. Indeed I will not, Sir.
Ant. By Heav’n but you shall.
Will. Nay, do not shew your Sword; if you do, by this dear Beauty—I will shew mine too.
Ant. What right can you pretend to it?

14
Will. That of Possession which I will maintain—you perhaps have 1000 Crowns to give for the
Original.
Pedro. These be the English rogues that are hither come.
Blunt. Yea, by King Charles.
Ant. These be the oaken rogues; all rogues and rovers.
Pedro. What will you fight upon as little reason as you are wont to love.
Willmore. Yea, and as hot.
Fred. And in good Prince Rupert’s vein.
Antonio. What not content with civil broils at home but you must abuse us overseas.
Pedro. Let’s teach them sir what ‘tis to fire a flintlock. When it is carnival let’s join and thwack them.
Ant. Tis well and yet I’ll meet with you tomorrow. You shall restore the [Link] leave your Lives
behind.
Blunt. Death! you lie—
Willmore We will do neither.
[They fight, the Spaniards join with Antonio, Blunt laying on like mad. They leave off and bow.
Ang. Hold, I command you, if for me you fight.
Will. How heavenly fair she is!—ah Plague of her Price.
Ang. You, Sir, in Buff, that first began this Insolence.
Will. ’Tis true, I did so, I saw your charming Picture, and was wounded: quite through my Soul and
wanting a Thousand Crowns to procure my Remedy, I laid this little Picture to my Bosom—which if
you cannot allow me, I’ll resign.
Ang. No, you may keep the Trifle.
Ant. You shall first ask my leave, and this.[Fight again as before].

Enter Belvile, Blunt and Willmore, with his shirt bloody.

Blunt. ’Sheartlikins, beat me at this Sport, and I’ll ne’er wear Sword more.
Fred. A plague upon your Dons, if they fight no better they’ll ne’er recover Flanders.
Belvile. The devil’s in thee for a mad fellow. Come let’s be gone while we’re safe.
Willmore. What the Devil was’t to them that I took down the Picture?
Blunt. ’Sheartlikins, we’ll have the great one too; ’tis ours by Conquest.—Prithee, help me up, and I’ll
pull it down.—
Ang. Stay, Sir, and e’er you affront me further, let me know how you durst commit this Outrage—To
you I speak, Sir, for you appear like a Gentleman.
Will. To me, Madam?
Ang. Come into the house. I would have words with thee..
Willmore. Gentlemen; your servant.
Belv. Is the Devil in thee? Do’st know the danger of ent’ring the house of an incens’d Courtesan?
Ang. Fear not, Sir, all I have to wound with, is my Eyes.
Will. Death! Let me go.
Belvile. Yes, to your Lodging, if you will, but not in here.—
Fred. Damn these gay Harlots! Death, Man, she’ll murder thee.
Will. Oh! fear me not, shall I not venture where a Beauty calls? a lovely charming Beauty?
Belv. Pox, she’ll as soon lie with thee, as kiss thee, and sooner stab than do either—you shall not go.

15
Blunt. Let him go, colonel. I believe the Gentle-woman means well.
Belv. Well, take thy Fortune, we’ll expect you in the next Street.—Farewell Fool,—farewell—
Will. B’ye Colonel—[Goes in].
Fred. The Rogue’s stark mad for a Wench.[Exeunt].

SCENE II. A Fine Chamber.

Enter Willmore, Angelica, and Moretta.

Moretta. We shall never see good days again until all these fighting rogues are set to the galleys.
Ang. Insolent Sir, how durst you pull down my Picture?
Will. Rather, how durst you set it up, to tempt poor amorous Mortals with so much Excellence? which I
find you have but too well consulted by the unmerciful price you set upon’t.—Is all this Heaven of
Beauty shewn to move Despair in those that cannot buy?
Ang. I sent for you to ask my Pardon, Sir, not to aggravate your Crime.—I thought I should have seen
you at my Feet imploring it.
Will. You are deceived, I came to rail at you, and rail such Truths, too, as shall let you see the Vanity
of that Pride, which taught you how to set such a Price on Sin. For such it is, whilst that which is
Love’s due is meanly bartered for.
Ang. Alas, good Captain, what pity ’tis your edifying Doctrine will do no good upon me—Moretta, fetch
the Gentleman a Glass, and let him survey himself, to see what Charms he has,—and guess my
Business.[Aside in a soft tone.
Moret. He knows himself of old, I believe those Breeches and he have been acquainted ever since he
was beaten at the battle of Worcester.
Ang. Nay, do not abuse the poor Creature.—
Moret. Good Weather-beaten swabber, will you set sail? The Price is too high i’th’ Mouth for you,
therefore tack off, I say.
Will. Here, good Fore-Woman of the Shop, serve me, and I’ll be gone.
Moret. Keep it to pay your Laundress, your Linen stinks of the Gun-Room; for here’s no selling by
Retail.
Will. Thou hast sold plenty of thy stale Ware at a cheap Rate.
Moret. Ay, the more silly kind Heart I, you know the price…
Will. I grant you ’tis here set down a thousand Crowns a Month—Pray how much may come to my
share for a pistole?
Moret. Abominable Fellow, I tell thee, we only sell by the whole Piece.
Will. ’Tis very hard, the whole Cargo or nothing—Faith, Madam, my Stock will not reach it, Yet I have
Countrymen, in Town, Merchants of Love, like me; I’ll see if they’ll put in for a share. I am studying,
Madam, how to purchase you, though at present I am unprovided of Money.
Ang. Sure, this from any other Man would anger me—nor shall he know the Conquest he has made—
Poor angry Man, how I despise this railing.

Will. Yes, I am poor—but I’m a Gentleman,

And one that scorns this Baseness which you practise.
Poor as I am, I would not sell my self,
No, not to gain your charming high-priz’d Person.
Tho I admire you strangely for your Beauty,
Yet I condemn your mercenary Mind.

Ang. Why dost thou say I am mercenary?

16
Moretta. Sirrah, fool! Thou must be gone

Ang. How dare you take this freedom. Withdraw!

Moretta. Sure she’s bewitched that stands thus tamely by and hears his saucy railings.

Willmore. Withdraw!

Ang. Why dost thou say that I am mercenary.

Suppose I saw you in the street and liked you
And came and knocked upon your captain’s door
And bade you bed me, would I wonder, sir,
If you asked the price ere I enjoyed you?

Will. Why that’s’ well said.—And yet I wou’d at any rate enjoy you;
At your own rate—but cannot—See here
The only Sum I can command on Earth;
I know not where to eat when this is gone:
Yet such a Slave I am to Love and Beauty,
This last reserve I’ll sacrifice to enjoy you.
—Nay, do not frown, I know you are to be bought,
And wou’d be bought by me, by me,
Nay, I will gaze—to let you see my Strength.[Holds her, looks on her, and pauses and sighs.
By Heaven, bright Creature—I would not for the World
Thy Fame were half so fair as is thy Face.[Turns her away from him.
Ang. If you have nothing else to say to me.

Will. Yes, you shall hear how infamous you are—

Ang. What wilt htou moralise that hopes to buy me?

You men are strangely partial to yourselves.
What crime is mine that you would not now commit?
Who made the laws by which you judge me? Men!
And tell me captain are not men as mercenary as i?

Willmore. Not I, I vow

Ang. When a Lady is proposed to you for a Wife, you never ask, how fair, discreet, or virtuous she is;
but what’s her Fortune—which if but small, you cry—‘She will not serve’—and basely leave her,
Will. It is a barbarous Custom, which I will scorn to defend in our Sex, and do despise in yours.

Ang. Well said; why, now you speak more gently.

Has not enough good nature to forget my follies past?
I blame thee not for thine,
Although I nothing doubt they were as many
Will more. What’s that to you or I that live I’the instant? Then take my purse and me.

Ang. Nay not so fast. Put up thy Gold, I would not sell thee kindness
But for the sake of kindness.

Willmore. What’s her meaning?

Ang. Thou shalt not buy my love.

Willmore. Why then farewell.

Angellica. Nay, stay a little. Coulds’t thou not give me love?

17
Willmore. I’faith, like anything.

Ang Confirm that faith and I’ll –

Willmore. Do what?

Ang. I cannot tell.

Perchance I’d …nay I would not.
Tell me if you like me. Come, flatter me a little and ’twill please me
Could’st not forget the merry but the mean Effects of Vanity,
Which set me out to sale; and as a Lover, prize My yielding Joys.
Canst thou believe I might be wholly thine,
Without considering they were mercenary?
Will. I cannot tell, I must bethink me first—ha, Death, I’m going to believe her.[Aside.
Curse on thy charming Tongue! dost thou return
My feigned Contempt with so much subtlety?[Aside.
Thou’st found the easiest way into my Heart,
Though I know that all thou say’st is false.[Turning from her in a Rage.

Ang. By all that’s good ’tis real,

I never loved before, though oft a Mistress.
—Shall my first Vows be slighted?

Will. —But, Madam I have been so often cheated

That I’ve no Faith left for the cozening Sex,
Especially for Women of your Trade.

Ang. The low esteem you have of me, perhaps

May bring my Heart again:
For I have Pride that yet surmounts my Love.[She turns with Pride, he holds her.

Will. By heaven thou art brave and I admire thee strangely.

Throw off this Pride, And shew the Power of Love:
’tis with those Arms I can be only vanquished

Ang. —No, I dare not hear thee talk,—thou hast a Charm

In every word, that draws my Heart away.
Thou hast undone me—Why art thou soft?
Thy Looks are bravely rough, and meant for War.
Could thou not storm on still?
I then perhaps had been as free as thou.

Will. Death! how she throws her Fire about my Soul!

Ang. What lingering still? Do I lack charms to please you?

Am I despised because enjoyed by others?
Are you so puritan a cavalier?
What dost thou fear that I am over-used?
Try me: and you shall find the mine still golden.
Dost fear these lips are staled by ancient kisses,
Or that this body’s paths are worn with use?
Nay, you shall find I am as fresh to reap
As any maid that has not found her harvest.

Will. —Take heed, fair Creature, how you raise my Hopes,

Which once fulfilled will give me all Dominion.
There’s not a Joy thou hast in thy hot store
I shall not then command:

18
Ang. Content, I care not!

Will. Come, let’s begin the account this happy minute.

Ang. And will you pay me then the Price I ask?

Will. Oh, why dost thou draw me from my holy Worship,

By shewing me thou art not Divinity?
Ang. Nay, fool, The Pay I mean is but thy Love for mine.
—Can you give that?
Will. Entirely—
Ang. Swear it then.
Will Why so I do. Come, let’s withdraw: where I’ll renew my Vows,—and breathe ’em with such
Ardour, thou shall not doubt my Zeal.
Ang. Thou hast a Power too strong to be resisted.
[Ex. Will. and Angelica.
Moret. Is all our Project fallen to this? to love the only Enemy to our Trade? Nay, to love such
a Shameroon, a very Beggar; nay, a Pirate-Beggar, whose Business is to rifle and be gone, a No-
Purchase, No-Pay Tatterdemalion, an English Piccaroon; a Rogue that fights for daily Drink, and
takes a Pride in being loyally lousy—Oh, I could curse now, if I durst—This is the Fate of most
Whores.
Trophies, which from believing Fops we win,
Are Spoils to those who cozen us again.

ACT III.

SCENE I. A Street.

Enter Florinda, Valeria, Hellena, in Antick different Dresses from what they were in
before, Callis attending.
Val. Well, methinks we have learnt this Trade of Gipsies as readily as if we had been bred upon the
Road to Loretto: and yet I did so fumble, when I told the Stranger his Fortune, that I was afraid I
should have told my own and yours by mistake—But methinks Hellena has been very serious ever
since.
Hell. Hey ho! I’m sad as a Lover’s Lute.
Flor. I would give my Garters she were in love, to be reveng’d upon her, for abusing me—How
is’t, Hellena?
Hell. Ah!—would I had never seen my mad Monsieur —and yet for all your laughing I am not in love—
and yet this small Acquaintance, o my Conscience, will never out of my Head.
Val. Ha, ha, ha—I laugh to think how thou art fitted with a Lover, a Fellow that, I warrant, loves every
new Face he sees.
Hell. Hum—he has not kept his Word with me here—and may be taken up, elsewhere—that thought
is not very pleasant to me—what the Deuce should this be now that I feel?
Val. What is’t like?
Hell. Nay, the Lord knows—but if I should be hanged, I cannot chuse but be angry and afraid, when I
think that mad Fellow should be in love with any Body but me—What to think of myself I know not—
Would I could meet with some true damned Gipsy, that I might know my Fortune.
Val. Know it! why there’s nothing so easy; thou wilt love this wandering Inconstant till thou find’st thy
self hanged about his Neck, and then be as mad to get free again.

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Flor. Yes, Valeria; we shall see her bestride his frigate, and follow him over the ocean.
Hell. So, so; now you are provided for, there’s no care taken of poor me—
Valeria. How? I provided for?
Hellena. Thou dist so flaunt and ogle that I thought you meant to lure all the city to thy bed.
Valeria. Nay, my man was coy.
Hellena. Well, and if you are not yet a lover, ‘tis an art soon learnt –that I find.
Flor. I wonder how you learnt to love so easily, I had a thousand Charms to meet my Eyes and Ears,
e’er I could yield; and ’twas the knowledge of Belvile’s Merit. Thou art too rash to give a Heart at first
sight.
Hell. Hang your considering Lover; I ne’er thought beyond the Fancy, that ’twas a very pretty, idle, silly
kind of Pleasure to pass ones time with To write little, soft, nonsensical Billets, and with great difficulty
and danger receive Answers; in which I shall have my Beauty prais’d, my Wit admir’d (tho little or
none) and have the Vanity and Power to know I am desirable; then I have the more Inclination that
way, because I am to be a Nun, and so shall not be suspected to have any such earthly Thoughts
about me—But when I walk thus—and sigh thus—they’ll think my Mind’s upon my Monastery, and
cry, how happy ’tis she’s so resolv’d!—But not a Word of Man.
Flor. What a mad Creature’s this!
Valeria. See here come our lovers back, let’s plague them still.
Hell. But where’s my inconstant? let’s step aside, and we may learn something.[Go aside.

Enter Belvile, Fred. and Blunt.

Belv. What means this? the Picture’s taken in.
Blunt. It may be the Wench is good natur’d, and will be kind gratis.
Belv. I rather think she has cut his Throat and is fled—let’s knock and ask for him.
Hell. My heart goes a-pit a-pat, for fear ’tis my Man they talk of.
All Cry. Willmore!
Enter Biskey and Moretta above.
Biskey. What would you have?
Belv. Tell the Stranger that entered here about two Hours ago, that his Friends stay here for him.
Moret. A Curse upon him for Moretta,—but he’s coming to you.
[Enter Wilmore].
Hell. Ay, Ay, ’tis he. Oh how this vexes me.
Belv. And how, and how, dear Lad, has Fortune smil’d? Are we to break her Windows, or raise up
Altars to her! hah!
Will. Does not my Fortune sit triumphant on my Brow? dost not see the little wanton God there all gay
and smiling? have I not an Air about my Face and Eyes, that distinguish me from the Crowd of
common Lovers? Oh such a Bona Roba! To sleep in her Arms is lying in Fresco, all perfumed Air
about me.
Hell. .[Aside].Here’s fine encouragement for me to fool on
Will. Hark ye, where didst thou purchase that rich Canary we drank to-day? The Juice was divine.
Belv. Well, Sir, let’s go take a Bottle, and hear the Story of your Success.
Fred. Would not French Wine do better?
Will. Damn the hungry Balderdash; cheerful Sack has a generous Virtue in’t, inspiring a successful
Confidence, gives Eloquence to the Tongue, and Vigour to the Soul; and has in a few Hours
completed all my Hopes and Wishes. There’s nothing left to raise a new Desire in me—And,

20
Gentlemen, study, study what you want, for here are Friends,—that will supply us. , Hark! what a
charming sound they make—
Blunt. But hark ye, Sir, you are not married, are you?
Will. All the Honey of Matrimony, but none of the Sting, Friend.
Blunt. Pox on’t, thou’rt a fortunate Rogue.
Blunt. ’Sheartlikins,. Why! here’s two of us provided for.
Fred. By this light y’re happy Men. Oh for my little gypsy now.
Blunt. Fortune is pleased to smile on us, Gentlemen,—to smile on us.

Enter Sancho, and pulls Blunt by the Sleeve. They go aside.

Sancho. Sir, my Lady expects you—she has removed all that might oppose your Will and Pleasure—
and is impatient till you come.
Blunt. Sir, I’ll attend you—Oh the happiest Rogue! I’ll take no leave, lest they either dog me, or stay
me.[Ex. with Sancho].
Fred. Look , how Ned’s in a lure. I hope she’ll dress him for our mirth, cheat him of all; then have him
well favouredly banged, and turned out at midnight.
Belvile. So captain the little gipsy is forgot?
Will. A Mischief on thee for putting her into my thoughts; I had quite forgot her else, and this Night’s
Debauch had drunk her quite down.
Hell. Had it so, good Captain?]
Will. Ha! I hope she did not hear me!
Fred. Ha! Our gypsies! To ‘em colonel!
Hell. What, afraid of such a Champion!
Will. Oh! you’re a fine Lady of your word, are you not? to make a Man languish a whole day—
Hell. In tedious search of me.
Will. Egad, Child, thou’rt in the right, had’st thou seen what a melancholy Dog I have been ever since I
last saw you, thou wouldst pity me.
Hell. Now, if I should be hanged, I can’t be angry with him, he dissembles so heartily—Alas, good
Captain, what pains you have taken—Now were I ungrateful not to reward so true a Servant.
Will. Poor Soul! that’s kindly said, I see thou bearest a Conscience—come then for a beginning shew
me thy dear Face.
Hell. I’m afraid, my small Acquaintance, you have been staying that swinging stomach you boasted of
this morning; I remember then my little Collation would have gone down with you, without the Sauce
of a handsome Face—Is your Stomach so queasy now?
Will. Faith long fasting, Child, spoils a Man’s Appetite—yet if you durst treat, I could so lay about me
still.
Hell. And would you fall to, before a Priest says Grace?
Will. Oh fie, fie, what an old out-of-fashioned thing hast thou named? Thou could’st not dash me more
out of Countenance, should’st thou shew me an ugly Face.

Whilst he is seemingly courting Hellena, enter Angelica, Moretta, Biskey, and Sebastian, all in
Masquerade: Ang. sees Will. and starts.
Ang. Heavens, is’t he? and passionately fond to see another Woman?
Hell. You see, Captain, how willing I am to be Friends with you, till Time and Ill-luck make us Lovers;
and ask you the Question first, rather than put your Modesty to the blush, by asking me: For alas,
I know you Captains are such strict Men, severe Observers of your Vows to Chastity, that ’twill be
hard to prevail with your tender Conscience to marry a young willing Maid.

21
Will. Do not abuse me, for fear I should take thee at thy word, and marry thee indeed, which I’m sure
would be Revenge sufficient.
Hell. O’ my Conscience, that will be our Destiny, because we are both of one humour; I am as
inconstant as you, for I have considered, Captain, that a handsome Woman has a great deal to do
whilst her Face is good, for then is our Harvest-time to gather Friends. And should I in these days of
my Youth, catch a fit of foolish Constancy, I were undone; ’tis loitering by day-light in our great
Journey. Therefore I declare, I’ll allow but one year for Love, one year for Indifference, and one year
for Hate—and then—go hang your self—for I profess myself the gay, the kind, and the inconstant—
the Devil’s in’t if this won’t please you.
Will. Oh most damnably!—I have a Heart with a hole quite through it too; no Prison mine, to keep a
Mistress in.
Ang. Perjur’d Man! How I believe thee now![Aside.
Hell. Well, I see our Business as well as Humours are alike, yours to cozen as many Maids as will
trust you, and I as many Men as have Faith—See if I have not as desperate a lying lover’s look, as
you can have for the heart of you. [Pulls off her Vizard; he starts) -—How do you like it, Captain?
Will. Like it! by Heav’n, I never saw so much Beauty. Oh the Charms of those sprightly black Eyes,
that strangely fair Face, full of Smiles and Dimples! those soft round melting cherry Lips! and small
even white Teeth! not to be exprest, but silently adored!—Oh one Look more, and strike me dumb, or
I shall repeat nothing else till I am mad.[He seems to court her to pull off her Vizard: she refuses.
Ang. I can endure no more; for if I do, my Jealousy will destroy my Reason,— Sebastian [To one of
her Bravoes] follow that Woman, and learn who ’tis;
Willmore. Oh, one more look and strike me dumb.
[This while Flor. is talking to Belvile, who stands sullenly. Fred. courting Valeria.]
Flor. Nay, stay sir. (To Valeria) What shall I do next?
Val. Prithee, dear Stranger, be not so sullen; for tho you have not yet your love Florinda, you see my
Friend frankly offers you hers, to play with in the meantime.
Belv. Faith, Madam, I am sorry I can’t play at her Game.
Fred. Pray leave your Intercession, and mind your own Affair, they’ll better agree apart; he’s a model
Sigher in Company, but alone no Woman escapes him.
Flor. Sure he does but rally—yet if it should be true—I’ll tempt him farther—Believe me, noble
Stranger, I’m no common Mistress—and for a little proof on’t—wear this Jewel—nay, take it, Sir,
Belv. Madam, why am I chose out of all Mankind to be the Object of your Bounty?
Val. There’s another civil Question asked.
Fred. Pox of’s Modesty, it spoils his own Markets, and hinders mine.
Flor. Sir, from my Window I have often seen you; and Women of my quality have so few opportunities
for Love, that we ought to lose none.
Fred. [To Valeria] Here’s a Woman!—When shall I be blest with so much kindness from your fair
Mouth?—
Valeria. When my sister thrives.
Fred (aside to Belvile) Take the Jewel, Fool.
Belv. You tempt me strangely, Madam, every way. And but for a Vow I’ve made to a very fine Lady,
this Goodness had subdued me.
Fred. (aside to Belvile) Pox on’t be kind, in pity to me be kind, for I am to thrive here but as you treat
her Friend. Belvile!.
Fred and Belvile Exit
Flor. So he’s true to his Florinda.
Valeria. ‘Tis well, let’s after them.

22
Hell. Tell me what did you in yonder House, and I’ll unmask
Will. Yonder house.
Hell. Yonder house.
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!
Hell. Methinks I see a little wanton God on thy brow all gay and smiling. Ah such a Bona Roba:. Was
this your man friend too? to be in her Arms is lying in Fresco, all perfumed Air about me—
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.
Therefore I’m resolved—
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’ll 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.
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.
Val. Come sister, we must 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
Fred. This comes of your Modesty,—ah pox on your Vow,
Belv. Willmore! the blessed’st Opportunity lost!—
Will. Ah Rogue! such 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?
Belv. I understand thee not—I’m mad—
Fred. See here—[Shews the Picture.
Will. Ha! Whose Picture is this?—’tis a fine Wench.

23
Fred. The Colonel’s Mistress, Sir.
Will. Oh, oh, here—I thought it had been another Prize—come, come, another Bottle will set thee right
again.[Gives the Picture back].
Belv. I am confident to try, and by that time ’twill be late enough for our Design in Florinda’s garden.
Fred. Agreed.
Will. Love does all day the Soul’s great Empire keep,
But Wine at night lulls the soft God asleep.
[Exeunt].

SCENE II. Lucetta’s House.

Enter Sancho and Lucetta with a Light.

Sancho. Haste, haste he’ll be here straight.

Lucetta. Go I not gorgeous thus.
Sancho. Now you look finely.
Lucetta. I would I were in truth as fine as now I seem to be. Pray, Sancho, let me bear myself gently
with my Englishman a little ere we flea him.
Sancho. Fie, how thou dream’st,Lucetta. Are not thy shoulders as laced as mine with galley lashes.
Wear not thy dress so low lest he spy them.
Lucetta. Nay, tis good to go thus when ‘tis carnival.
Sancho. Well, thou shalt bear yourself gently enough to make him hot, but not so hot that he undo
you. I’ll thump you if you tick him.
Luc. Nay fear me not.
Blunt. Yoo-hoo-hoo!
Sancho. He comes
Blunt. Lady, I must beg your pardon for coming this late. There was an accident stayed me beyond
expectation.
Lucetta. Sir, you are not only master of thy own, but of my time as well. I dare not say how much your
absence has afflicted me, but rather what joy your presence brings these eyes that love and adore her
friend.
Blunt. I am transported—Pox on’t, that I had but some fine things to say to her, such as Lovers use
——something I must say. ’Sheartlikins, sweet Soul, I am not used to complement, but I’m an honest
Gentleman, and thy humble Servant. [Aside] I was a Fool not to learn of Fred, a little by Heart before
I came
Luc. Now we are safe and free, no fears of the coming home of my old jealous Husband, which made
me a little thoughtful when you came in first—but now Love is all the business of my Soul.
Blunt. Gentle soul, why dost thou blush and hide thy head? I never had but one heart, a plain one and
honest, and that’s thine.
Luc. Faith, thy sweet Face and Shape have made me your absolute Captive.
Blunt. Kind heart, how prettily she talks! Egad I’ll show her Husband a Spanish Trick; send him out of
the World, and marry her: she’s damnably in love with me.
Luc. Well, Sir, I’ll go and undress me, and be with you instantly.
Blunt. Make haste then, for ’adsheartlikins, dear Soul, thou canst not guess at the pain of a longing
Lover, when his Joys are drawn within the compass of a few minutes.
Luc. You speak my Sense, and I’ll make haste to provide it.[Exit.

24
Blunt. ’Tis a rare Girl, and this one night’s enjoyment with her will be worth all the days I ever past in
Essex.—Sure her embraces will far excel all the pleasures I have ever tasted; for I ne’er loved, nor
was beloved until now. This is Love’s holy day; the rest were working days in which I but ploughed the
sex. Our dull cold kisses were common seed; thoughtless sown and full of weed, not of force to kindle
a heart. Here every look or touch inflames or burns my blood. ‘Tis pleasure thus to be stung; I’ll take
her home with me to England.
Luc. Are you not undrest yet?
Blunt. As much as my Impatience will permit.[Goes towards the Bed in his Shirt and Drawers.
Luc. Hold, Sir, put out the Light, it may betray us else.
Blunt. Any thing, I need no other Light but that of thine Eyes!—’sheartlikins, there I think I had it.
[Aside.[Puts out the Candle, the Bed descends, he gropes about to find it.] where are you sweetest?
—
Sancho. A pretty love trick this [Hits Blunt]
Blunt. Ha [he is thrown down a trap]
Sancho. Ha, ha, ha, he’s dispatched finely.
Luc. Now, Sir, had I been coy, we had mist of this Booty.
Sancho. Nay when I saw ’twas a substantial Fool, I was mollified; but when you dote upon a
Serenading Coxcomb, it makes me rage.
Luc. You know I never was guilty of that Folly, my dear Sancho but with your self—
Sancho. But come let’s see what we have got by this. A rich Coat!—Sword and Hat!—these Breeches
too—are well lined!—
Lucetta. See here a Gold Watch!—
Sancho. A Purse—ha! Gold!—at least two hundred Pistoles!
Lucetta. A bunch of Diamond Rings; and one with the Family Arms!—a Gold Box!—with a Medal of
his King! And his Lady Mother’s Picture!—
Sancho. See, the Wasteband of his Breeches have a Mine of Gold!—Old Queen Bess’s. We have a
Quarrel to her ever since Eighty Eight, and may therefore justify the Theft,
Luc. See, a Bracelet of bow’d Gold,—but yet—for all this, I fear his being a Stranger may make a
noise, and hinder our Trade with them hereafter.
Sancho. That’s our security; he is not only a Stranger to us, but to the Country too—the Common-
Sewer into which he is descended, , conducts him into another Street. He knows neither your Name,
nor the Street where your House is, nay, nor the way to his own Lodgings.
Luc. And art not thou an unmerciful Rogue, not to afford him one Night for all this
Sancho. Blame me not, Lucetta, to keep as much of thee as I can to my self—come, that thought
makes me wanton,—let’s to Bed,—I’ll, lock up these.
This is the Fleece which Fools do bear,
Design’d for witty Men to shear.

[Exeunt. The Scene changes, and discovers Blunt, creeping out of a Common Sewer, his Face,
&c., all dirty.
Blunt. Oh Lord! [Climbing up] I am got out at last, and (which is a Miracle) without a Clue—and now to
Damning and Cursing,—but if that would ease me, where shall I begin? with my Fortune, my self, or
the Quean that cozen’d me—What a dog was I to believe in Women! ’tis plain, Fool was writ upon my
Forehead, she perceiv’d it,— to be thus cheated, confirms I am a dull believing English Country Fop.
— I have a Bill of Exchange at home would have sav’d my Credit—but now all hope is taken from me
—Well, I’ll home (if I can find the way) with this Consolation, that I am not the first kind believing
Coxcomb; but there are,
Gallants, many such good Natures amongst ye.
And tho you’ve better Arts to hide your Follies,

25
Adsheartlikins y’are all as errant Cullies.

INTERVAL

SCENE III. The Garden, in the Night.

Enter Florinda undres’d, with a Key

Flor. Well, thus far I’m in my way to Happiness; and now I ache for Belvile, I have got myself free from
callis, my brother thinks not of me: I have by good Fortune got the Key of the Garden Back-door,—I’ll
open it, to prevent Belvile’s knocking,—a little noise will now alarm my Brother. Now am I as fearful as
a young Thief. [Unlocks the Door.] —Hark,—what noise is that?—Oh,’twas the Wind that plaid
amongst the Boughs.—Belvile stays long, methinks—it’s time—stay—O Fie, the wind has ruffled my
hair. I’ll get a mirror to make it fine again.

Enter Willmore drunk.

Will. What the Devil is become of these Fellows, Belvile and Frederick? They promis’d to stay at the
next corner for me. Now—whereabouts am I?—hah—what have we here? A Garden!—a very
convenient place to sleep in—hah—what has God sent us here?—a Female—by this light, a Woman;
I’m a Dog if it be not a very Wench.—
Flor. He’s come!—hah—who’s there?
Will. Sweet Soul, let me salute thy Shoe-string.
Flor. ’Tis not my Belvile—.—Who are you, and from whence come you?
Will. Prithee—prithee, Child—not so many hard Questions—let it suffice I am here, Child—Come,
come kiss me.
Flor. Good Gods! what luck is mine?
Will. Only good luck, Child, parlous good luck—Come hither,—’tis a delicate shining Wench,—by this
Hand she’s perfum’d, and smells like any Nosegay.—Prithee, dear Soul, let’s not play the Fool, and
lose time,—precious time—for as Gad shall save me, I’m as honest a Fellow as breathes, tho I am a
little disguis’d at present.—Come, I say,—why, thou may’st be free with me, I’ll be very secret.
Flor. Heavens! what a filthy beast is this!
Will. I am so, and thou oughtst the sooner to lie with me for that reason,—for look you, Child, there will
be no Sin in’t, because ’twas neither design’d nor premeditated; ’tis pure Accident on both sides——
Now—come, be kind, without any more idle prating.
Flor. Oh, I am ruin’d—wicked Man, unhand me.
Will. Wicked! Egad, Child, a Judge, were he young and vigorous, and saw those Eyes of thine, would
know ’twas they gave the first blow—the first provocation. So doth thy habit. —Come, prithee let’s
lose no time, I say—this is a fine convenient place.
Flor. Sir, let me go, I conjure you, or I’ll call out.
Will. Ay, ay, you were best to call Witness to see how finely you treat me—do.—
Flor. I’ll cry Murder, Rape, or any thing, if you do not instantly let me go.
Will. A Rape! Come, come, you lie, you Baggage, you lie: why at this time of Night was your Cobweb-
door set open, dear Spider—but to catch Flies?—
Flor. Sir, can you think—
Will. That you’d do it for nothing? oh, oh, I find what you’d be at—look here, here’s a Pistole for you—
here’s a work indeed—here—take it, I say.—
Flor. For Heaven’s sake, Sir, as you’re a Gentleman—

26
Will. So—now—she would be wheedling me for more—what, you will not take it then—you’re resolved
you will not.—Come, come, take it, or I’ll put it up again; for, look ye, I never give more.—come, no
struggling, be gone—But an y’are good at a dumb Wrestle, I’m for ye,—look ye,—I’m for ye.—[She
struggles with him.

Enter Belvile and Frederick.

Bel. The Door is open, a Pox of this mad Fellow, I’m angry that we’ve lost him,
Fred. But you were so hasty, Colonel, to be gone.
Flor. Help, help,—Murder!—help—oh, I’m ruin’d.
Belv. Ha, sure that’s Florinda’s Voice.[Comes up to them] —Villain, let go that Lady.[A noise.
[Will. turns and draws, Fred. interposes.
Florinda. Belvile!
Belvile. Willmore!
Flor. Belvile! Heavens! My Brother too is coming, and ’twill be impossible to escape.—Belvile, to walk
under my Chamber-window, from whence I’ll give you some instructions what to do—This rude Man
has undone us.[Exit.

[Enter Pedro, Stephano, and other Servants with Lights.]

Ped. I’m betray’d; run, Stephano, and see if Florinda be safe. [Exit Steph].
So whoe’er they be, all is not well, I’ll to Florinda’s Chamber.
[They fight, and Pedro’s Party beats ’em out; going out, meets Stephano].
Steph. You need not, Sir, the poor Lady’s fast asleep, and thinks no harm: I would not wake her, Sir,
for fear of frightening her with your danger.
Ped. Rascals, how came the Garden-Door open?
Steph. That Question comes too late, Sir: some of my Fellow-Servants Masquerading I’ll warrant.
Ped. Masquerading! a lewd Custom to debauch our Youth—there’s something more in this than I
imagine
.[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. Changes to the Street.

Enter Belvile in Rage, Fred. holding him, and Willmore melancholy.

Will. Why, how the Devil shou’d I know Florinda?
Belv. Ah plague of your ignorance! if it had not been Florinda, must you be a Beast?—a Brute,
a senseless Swine?
Will. Well, Sir, you see I am endu’d with Patience—I can bear—though egad you’re very free with me
methinks,—
Belv. Peace, Brute, whilst thou’rt safe—oh, I’m distracted.
Will. Nay, nay, I’m an unlucky Dog, that’s certain.
Belv. Ah curse upon the Star that rul’d my Birth! or whatsoever other Influence that makes me still so
wretched.
Will. Thou break’st my Heart with these Complaints; there is no Star in fault, no Influence but Sack,
the cursed Sack I drank.
Fred. Why, how the Devil came you so drunk?
Will. Why, how the Devil came you so sober?
Fred. Prithee, dear Colonel, forgive him, he’s sorry for his fault.

27
Belv. He’s always so after he has done a mischief—
Will. By this Light I took her for an errant Harlot.
Belv. Damn your debauched Opinion: tell me, Sot, had’st thou so much sense and light about thee to
distinguish her to be a Woman, and could’st not see something about her Face and Person, to strike
an awful Reverence into thy Soul?
Will. Faith no, I consider’d her as mere a Woman as I could wish.
Belv. ’Sdeath I have no patience—draw, or I’ll kill you.
Will. Let that alone till to morrow, and if I set not all right again, use your Pleasure.

Belv. To morrow, damn it, to morrow she is Antonio’s, oh that I could meet
This Rival, this powerful Fortunate.
Will. What then?
Belv. Let thy own Reason, or my Rage instruct thee.
Will. Show me the Man and I’ll do his Business.
Belv. I know him no more than thou, or if I did, I should not need thy aid. I’ll now plant my self
under Florinda’s Window, and if I find no comfort there, I’ll die. [Exit Belvile and Fred]

Enter Sebastian and Biskey

Will. Why this is Angelica’s House, I promis’d the kind Baggage to lie with her to Night.[Offers to go in]

Enter Antonio and his Page. Ant. knocks on the Hilt of his Sword.
Ant. Hast thou received the thousand Crowns I directed?
Biskey. To the Lady’s old Woman, Sir, I did.
Sebastian. You’re welcome, sir.
Will. Who the Devil have we here?

Enter Moretta.
Moret. Don Antonio.
Antonio. Yea and come to claim the prize I paid for.
Will. How is this, a Piccaroon going to board my Frigate! here’s one Chase-Gun for you.[Drawing his
Sword, justles Ant. who turns and draws. They fight, Ant. falls.
Moret. Oh, bless us, we are all undone![Runs in, and shuts the Door.
Sebastian. The mad Englishman has set upon my Lord again. Kill him!
Moret. Ha, the mad fellows back. We are all undone.
Diego. Ring the alarm bell.

Enter Fred and Belvile

Fred. The mad rogue’s in at it again.
Moret. Ha! Help! A man killed.
Will. How! a Man kill’d! then I’ll go home to sleep.[Puts up, and reels out.
Belv. Killed! Who shou’d it be! pray Heaven the Rogue is safe, for all my Quarrel to him
Ant. I’m wounded. Ah!!
[Enter from all sides Diego and Soldiers with guns].
Ant. Secure the villain.

28
Belv. Do not mistake my charity for villainy. I came to his assistance.
Ant. This is the Man that has set upon me twice—
Belv. Not I.
Ant. Carry him to my Apartment till you have further Orders from me
Belvile. Has my humanity made me a criminal?
Ant. Look well to the villain there.
.[To the Officer. Ex. Ant. led.]

ACT IV.

SCENE I. A fine Room.

Discovers Belvile, as by Dark alone.

Belv. What a cursed chance is this! When shall I be weary of railing on Fortune, who is resolved never
to turn with Smiles upon me?—Two such Defeats in one Night—I am here a Prisoner—but where?—
Heaven knows—Yet this is nothing to the Torture my Soul bows with, when I think of losing my fair,
my dear Florinda.—Hark—my Door opens—a Light! Now shall I die like a Dog without defence.

Enter Antonio in a Night-Gown, with a Light; his Arm in a Scarf, and a Sword under his Arm: He
sets the Candle on the Table.
Ant. Sir, I come to know what Injuries I have done you English, that could provoke you to so mean an
Action, as to attack me basely, without allowing time for my Defence. ‘Tis the Viceroy’s son you have
wounded.
Belv. The Viceroy’s son! [Aside] Death and confusion! Don Antonio the man of all the world I would
destroy. Sir, for a Man in my Circumstances to plead Innocence, would look like Fear—but view me
well, and you will find no marks of a Coward on me, nor any thing that betrays that Brutality you
accuse me of.

Ant. In vain, Sir, you impose upon my Sense, You are not only he who drew on me last Night,
But yesterday before the same House, that of Angelica.
Belv. Perhaps you think this Crime enough to kill me, But if you do, I cannot fear you’ll do it basely.
Ant. No, Sir, I’ll make you fit for a Defence with this.[Gives him the Sword.
Belv. This Gallantry surprises me—nor know I how to use this Present, Sir, against a Man so brave.

Ant. You shall not need;

For know, I come to snatch you from a Danger
That is decreed against you; by our laws of Carnival
Perhaps your Life, or long Imprisonment:
Belv. How shall I pay this Generosity? [Aside} Death! Obliged by him who would wed Florinda.
Ant. You seem disordered, Sir.

Belv. Yes, trust me, Sir, I am, and ’tis with pain
That Man receives such Bounties,
Who wants the power to pay ’em back again.

Ant. To gallant Spirits ’tis indeed uneasy;

—But you may quickly over-pay me, Sir.

Belv. —Oh, I’m impatient, Sir, to be discounting

The mighty Debt I owe you; command me quickly—

29
Ant. I have a Quarrel with a Rival, Sir, about a woman whom we love.

Belv. Death,’tis Florinda he means—

Ant. My Rival, Sir. Challenged me yesterday to meet him on the Molo as soon as day appeared.
Is one has all the Virtues Man can boast of.
Belv. Death! who shou’d this be?[Aside.

Ant. But last Night’s quarrel

Has made my Arm unfit to guide a Sword.

Belv. I apprehend you, Sir, you’d have me kill the Man

That lays a claim to the Maid you speak of—I’ll do’t—I’ll fly to do it.

Ant. Sir, I shall rob you of the Glory on’t, For you must fight under my Name and Dress.
Belv. That Opinion must be strangely obliging that makes you think I can personate the brave Antonio,

Ant. You say too much to my Advantage.

Come, Sir, the Day appears that calls you forth. Put on this Habit.[Exit Antonio.

Belv. Fantastic Fortune, thou deceitful Light,

That cheats the wearied Traveller by Night,
Though on a Precipice each step you tread,
I am resolv’d to follow where you lead.[Exit.

SCENE II. The Molo.

Enter Florinda and Callis in Masques, with Stephano.

Flor. [Aside] I’m dying with my fears; Belvile’s not coming, as I expected, underneath my Window,
Makes me believe that all those Fears are true.

Stephano, Canst thou not tell with whom my Brother fights?

Steph. No, Madam, they were both in Masquerade, I was by when they challenged one another, and
they had decided the Quarrel then, but were prevented by some Cavaliers; which made ’em put it off
till now—but I am sure ’tis about you that your brother fights.
Flor. Nay then ’tis with Belvile, for what other Lover have I that dares fight for me,
except Antonio? and he is too much in favour with my Brother ever to fight with him.
Steph. Madam, Your brothers coming: If my Master sees me, I shall be hanged for being your
Conductor.—I escap’d narrowly for the Excuse I made for you last night i’th’ Garden.
Flor. And I’ll reward thee.[
Exit. Steph. Enter Don Pedro in his Masking Habit.
Pedro. Antonio’s late to day, the place will fill, and we may be prevented,
Flor. Antonio! sure I heard amiss..

Pedro. But who will not excuse a happy Lover.

When soft fair Arms confine the yielding Neck;
I fear he’s been with fair Angellica. .

Enter Belvile drest in Antonio’s Clothes.

Belv. This must be he.
Pedro. Antonio!— Good morrow.
Flor. ’Tis not Belvile, half my Fears are vanisht.

30
Belvile. [Aside.] You’re early, Sir,—I do not use to be out-done this way.

Pedro. The wretched, Sir, are watchful, and ’tis enough

You have the advantage of me in Angelica.

Belv. Angelica! Or I’ve mistook my Man! Or else Antonio.

Pedro. Come, Sir, you know our terms—
Belv. No talking, I am ready, Sir. [Offers to fight. Flor. runs in.]

Flor. Oh, hold! whoe’er you be, I do conjure you [Link] you strike here—I die—[To Belv.
Pedro. Florinda!
Belv. Florinda imploring for my Rival!
Pedro. Away, this Kindness is unseasonable. [Puts her by, they fight; she runs in just
as Belv. disarms Pedro].

Flor. By all you hold most dear, by her you love,

I do conjure you, touch him not.

Belv. By her I love!

See—I obey—and at your Feet resign
The useless Trophy of my Victory. [Lays his sword at her Feet].
Pedro. Antonio, you’ve done enough to prove you love Florinda.

Belv. Love Florinda! Does Heaven love Adoration, Prayer, or Penitence?

Love her! here Sir,—your Sword again.[Snatches up the Sword, and gives it him].
Upon this Truth I’ll fight my Life away.
Pedro. No, you’ve redeem’d my Sister, and my Friendship.
Belv. Don Pedro!
[He gives him Flor. and pulls off his Vizard to shew his Face, and puts it on again.

Pedro. Antonio, Can you resign your Claims to Angellica,

And give your Heart entirely to Florinda?

Belv. Entire, This minute let me make Florinda mine: I can delay my happiness no longer.

Pedro. This minute let it be—no time so proper,

This Night my Father will arrive from Rome,
And possibly may hinder what we propose.
Flor. Oh Heavens! this Minute! I am quite undone.
Pedro. That we may not be observed, do you walk off to St. Peter’s Church, where I will meet you,
and conclude your Happiness.
Belv. I’ll meet you there.
Pedro. I’ll fetch a father.
.
Flor. Oh stay, Sir, and recall your hasty Doom:
Alas I have not yet prepar’d my Heart
To entertain so strange a Guest.
Pedro. Away, this Modesty’s i assum’d too late.
Belv. Heaven, Madam! what do you do?

31
Flor. Do! despise the Man that lays a Tyrant’s Claim
To what he ought to conquer by Submission.

Belv. You do not know me—move a little this way.[Draws her aside.]
She’s coy. ‘Tis best I speak to her in private.

Pedro. I’ll be with you straight.

Flor. Yes, you may even force me to the Altar,

But you shall never force me to be thine.

Belv. Oh do not lose so blest an opportunity!

See—’tis your Belvile—not Antonio,

Flor. Belvile!
Belvile. At last we’re met in our own person sweet. Then fear you not if we but use our wit. Doubt not
that we shall win our long fought joys.
Flor How long have I waited for this happy minute.
Where was my Soul it cou’d not meet thy Voice,
And take this knowledge in?
[As they are talking, enter Willmore finely drest, and Frederick.
Will. No Intelligence! no News of Belvile yet—well I am the most unlucky Rascal in Nature—ha!—am I
deceiv’d—or is it he—look, Fred.—’tis he—my dear Belvile.
[Runs and embraces him. Belv. Vizard falls out on’s Hand].
Pedro. Belvile!
Belv. Hell and Confusion seize thee!
Pedro. Ha! ! I beg your Pardon, Sir.[Takes Flor. from him.]
Belv. Nay, touch her not, she’s mine by Conquest, Sir. I won her by my Sword.
Will. Did’st thou so—and egad, Child, we’ll keep her by the Sword.[Draws on Pedro, Belv. goes
between.

Belv. Stand off.

Thou’rt so profanely leud, so curst by Heaven,
All Quarrels thou espousest must be fatal.

Will. Nay, an you be so hot, my Valour’s coy,

And shall be courted when you want it next.[Puts up his Sword].

Belv. You know I ought to claim a Victor’s Right,[To Pedro].

But you’re the Brother to divine Florinda,
I durst not hurt the Man she holds so dear.

Pedro. ’Twas by Antonio’s, not by Belvile’s Sword,

This Question should have been decided, Sir:
I must confess much to your Bravery’s due,
But I am nicely punctual in my word,
And this Mistake another Time shall clear.
[To Florinda]
This was some Plot between you and Belvile:
But I’ll prevent you. Sister come away. [Aside to Flor. as they are going out].
[Belv. looks after her, and begins to walk up and down in a Rage].
Will. Do not be modest now, and lose the Woman: but if we shall fetch her back, so—
Belv. Do not speak to me.

32
Will. I know I’ve done some mischief, but I’m so dull a Puppy, that I am the Son of a Whore, if I know
how, or where—prithee inform my Understanding.—
Belv. Leave me I say, and leave me instantly.
Will. I will not leave you in this humour, nor till I know my Crime.
Belv. Death, I’ll tell you, Sir—
[Draws and runs at Will. he runs out; Belv. after him, Fred. Interposes].

Enter Angelica, Moretta, and Sebastian.

Ang. Ha—Sebastian—Is not that Willmore? haste, haste, and bring him back.
Fred. The Colonel’s mad—I never saw him thus before; I’ll after ’em, lest he do some mischief..[Exit
Ang. I am all Rage! my first love defeated
For one, for ought he knows, that has no
Other Merit than her Quality,—
Her being Don Pedro’s Sister—Willmore loves her:
I know ’tis so—He will not see me now though oft invited;
And broke his Word last night—false perjur’d Man!
He that but yesterday fought for my Favours,
Must now be hired and courted to my Arms.
Moret. I told you what wou’d come on’t, but Moretta’s an old doting Fool—Why did you give him five
hundred Crowns, but to set himself out for other Lovers? You should have kept him poor, if you had
meant to have had any good from him.

Ang. Oh, name not such mean Trifles.—Had I given him all
My Youth has earned from Sin,
I had not lost a Thought nor Sigh upon’t.
But I have given him my virgin Heart;
My Virgin Heart. Moretta! oh ’tis gone!

Moret. Curse on him, here he comes;

How fine she has made him too!

Enter Willmore and Sebast. Ang. turns and walks away.

Will. How now, turned Shadow?
Fly when I pursue, and follow when I fly!
,[Sings.]Stay gentle Shadow of my Dove
And tell me e’er I go,
Whether the Substance may not prove
A fleeting Thing like you.
There’s a soft kind Look remaining yet.[As she turns she looks on him].
Ang. Well, Sir, you may be gay; all Happiness, all Joys pursue you still, Fortune’s your Slave, and
gives you every hour choice of new Hearts and Beauties, till you are cloyed with the repeated Bliss,
which others vainly languish for—But know, false Man, that you have done me wrong.[Turns away in
a Rage.
Will. Pox o’ this whining—my Business is to laugh and love—a pox on’t; I hate your sullen Lover,
a Man shall lose as much time to put you in Humour now, as would serve to gain a new Woman.
Ang. I scorn to cool that Fire I cannot raise, Or do the Drudgery of your virtuous Mistress.
Will. A virtuous Mistress! Why what the Devil should I do with a virtuous Woman?—a sort of ill-natured
Creatures, that take a Pride to torment a Lover. Virtue is but an Infirmity in Women, a Disease that
renders even the handsome ungrateful; whilst the ill-favour’d, for want of Solicitations and Address,
only fancy themselves so.

Ang. I will not answer for your Mistress’s Virtue,

33
And I could wish you would persuade my Heart,
’Twas her two hundred thousand Crowns you courted, and not her youth.
Will. Two hundred thousand Crowns! What Story’s this?—what Trick?—what Woman?—ha.
Ang. How strange you make it! Have you forgot the Creature you entertained on the Piazza last night?
Will. Ha, my Gipsy worth two hundred thousand Crowns!—oh how I long to be with her—pox, I knew
she was of Quality.[Aside.

Ang. False Man, I see my Ruin in thy Face.

How many vows you breathed upon my Bosom,
Never to be unjust—have you forgot so soon?
Will. Faith no, I was just coming to repeat ’em. [Aside] Would she be angry again and leave me. .

Enter Hellena, drest in Man’s Clothes.

Hell. Pray, good grave Gentlewoman, is not this Angelica?
Moret. My too young Sir, it is—
Hellena. My mad captain’s with her too, for all his swearing. How this inconstant humour makes me
love him! Well, something I’ll do to vex him for this.
Moret. Madam. I hope here’s one from Don Antonio..
Ang. I will not speak with him; am I in humour to receive a Lover?
Will. Not speak with him! why I’ll be gone—and wait your idler minutes—Can I shew less Obedience
to the thing I love so fondly?[Offers to go.
Ang. A fine Excuse this—stay—
Will. And hinder your Advantage: should I repay your Bounties so ungratefully?

Ang. Come hither, Boy,—that I may let you see

How much above the Advantages you name
I prize one Minute’s Joy with you.
Will. Death, how shall I get away?—Madam, ’Tis not convenient that I stay with you. I’ve a Friend—
that’s dangerously sick.
Ang. I see you’re impatient—yet you shall stay.
Will. And miss my Assignation with my Gipsy.[Aside, and walks about impatiently.

Hell. Madam,[to Angelica.]

You’ll hardly pardon my Intrusion,
When you shall know my Business;
And I’m too young to tell my Tale with Art:
But there must be a wondrous store of Goodness
Where so much rare and virgin Beauty dwells.

Ang. A pretty Advocate, whoever sent thee,

—Prithee proceed—.[To Will. who is stealing off] Nay, Sir, you shall not go.

Will. .[Aside] .Pox on’t, she stays me out of spite

Hell. I am related to a Lady, Madam,

Young, rich, and nobly born, but has the fate
To be in love with a young English Gentleman.
Strangely she loves him, at first sight she lov’d him,
But did adore him when she heard him speak;
For he, she said, had Charms in every word,

34
Will. [Aside]. Ha, Egad I hope this concerns me.

Ang. ’Tis my false Man, he means—would he were gone.

This Praise will raise his Pride and ruin me—.[To Will] .Well,
Since you are so impatient to be gone,I will release you, Sir
Will. [Aside]. Nay, then I’m sure ’twas me he spoke of,
—No, Madam, I’ve consider’d better on’t, And will not give you cause of Jealousy.
Ang. But, Sir, I’ve—business, that concerns you not.
Will. This shall not do, I know ’tis but to try me.
Ang. Well, to your Story, Boy,— [Aside] Though ’twill undo me.

Hell. With this Addition to his other Beauties,

He won her unresisting tender Heart,
Today was the appointed time by both,
To consummate their Bliss in holy wedlock;
And whilst she languished for the expected Bridegroom,
She heard, he paid his broken Vows to you.
Will. So, this is some dear Rogue that’s in love with me, and this way lets me know it;

Ang. Now I perceive the cause of thy Impatience to be gone,

And all the business of this glorious Dress.
Will. Damn the young Prater, I know not what he means.

Hell. Madam,
In your fair Eyes I read too much concern
To tell my farther Business.

Ang. Prithee, sweet Youth, talk on, thou may’st perhaps

Raise here a Storm that may undo my Passion,
And then I’ll grant thee anything.

Hell. Madam, ’tis to entreat you, (oh unreasonable!)

You would not see this Stranger, more;
For if you do, she vows you are undone,
Though Nature never made a Man so excellent;
And sure he’ad been a God, but for Inconstancy.
Will. [Aside.] Ah, Rogue, how finely he’s instructed! —’Tis plain some Woman that has seen me en
passant.
Ang. Do you know the Man you speak of?—
Hell. Yes, Madam, he goes about in buff. .
Ang. Thou, false as Hell, what canst thou say to this?[To Will.
Will. By Heaven—
Ang. Hold, do not damn thy self—
Hell. Nor hope to be believ’d.[He walks about, they follow.

Ang. Oh, perjured Man! Is’t thus you pay my generous Passion back?
Hell. Why would you, Sir, abuse my Lady’s Faith?
Ang. And use me so inhumanly?
Hell. A Maid so young, so innocent—

35
Will. Ah, young Devil!
Ang. Dost thou not know thy Life is in my Power?
Hell. Or think my Lady cannot be reveng’d?
Will. .[Aside] .So, so, the Storm comes finely on

Ang. Now thou art silent, Guilt has struck thee dumb.
Oh, hadst thou still been so, I’d liv’d in safety.[She turns away and weeps.
Will. Sweetheart, the Lady’s Name and House—quickly: I’m impatient to be with her.—[Aside
to Hellena, looks towards Angel. to watch her turning; and as she comes towards them, he meets
her.
Hell. .[Aside].So now is he for another Woman

Will. The impudent’st young thing in Nature!

I cannot persuade him out of his Error, Madam.

Ang. I know he’s in the right,—yet thou’st a Tongue

That wou’d persuade him to deny his Faith.[In Rage walks away.
Will. [Said softly to Hell].Her Name, dear Boy, her Name.
Hell. Have you forgot it, Sir?
Will. Oh, I perceive he’s not to know I am a Stranger to his Lady.[Aside].Yes, yes, I do know—but—I
have forgot the—[Angel. turns.]—By Heaven, such early confidence I never saw.

Ang. Did I not charge you with this Mistress, Sir?

Which you denied, though I beheld your Perjury.
This little Generosity of thine has render’d back my Heart.[Walks away]

Will. So, you have made sweet work here, my little mischief;
Look your Lady be kind and good-natur’d now, or
I shall have but a cursed Bargain on’t.[Ang. turns towards them]
The Rogue’s bred up to Mischief,
Art thou so great a Fool to credit him?

Ang. Yes, I do; and you in vain impose upon me.

—Come hither, Boy—Is not this he you speak of?
Hell. I think—it is; I cannot swear, but I vow he has just such another lying Lover’s look.[Hell. looks in
his Face, he gazes on her.

Will. [Aside] Hah! do not I know that Face? By Heaven, my little Gipsy! what a dull Dog was I?
Had I but lookt that way, I’d known her. Are all my hopes of a new Woman banished.
—Egad, if I don’t fit thee for this, hang me.
—Madam, I have found out the Plot.
Hell. Oh Lord, what does he say? am I discover’d now?
Will. Do you see this young Spark here?
Hell. He’ll tell her who I am.
Will. Who do you think this is?
Hell. Ay, ay, he does know me.—Nay, dear Captain, I’m undone if you discover me.
Will. Nay, nay, no cogging; she shall know what a precious Mistress I have.
Hell. Will you be such a Devil?

36
Will. Nay, nay, I’ll teach you to spoil sport you will not make.—This small Ambassador comes not from
a Person of Quality, as you imagine, and he says; but from a very errant Gipsy, the talking’st,
prating’st, canting’st little Animal thou ever saw’st.
Ang. What news you tell me! that’s the thing I mean.
Hell. [Aside] Would I were well off the place.—If ever I go a Captain-hunting again.
Will. Mean that thing? that Gipsy thing? thou may’st as well be jealous of thy Monkey, or Parrot as
her: a Dream were a better Enjoyment, a Creature of a Constitution fitter for Heaven than Man.
Hell. [Aside] Though I’m sure he lies, yet this vexes me.
Will. You may Return, my little Brazen Head, and tell your Lady, that till she be handsome enough to
be beloved, or I dull enough to be religious, there will be small hopes of me.
Ang. Did you not promise then to marry her?
Will. Not I, by Heaven.
Ang. You cannot undeceive my fears and torments, till you have vow’d you will not marry her.
Hell. If he swears that, he’ll be reveng’d on me indeed for all my Rogueries.
Ang. I know what Arguments you’ll bring against me, Fortune and Honour.
Will. To satisfy your Jealousy I swear—
Hell. Oh, no swearing, dear Captain—[Aside to him.
Will. If it were possible I should ever be inclined to marry, it should be some kind young Sinner, one
that has Generosity enough to give a favour handsomely to one that can ask it discreetly, one that has
Wit enough to manage an Intrigue of Love—oh, how civil such a Wench is, to a Man than does her
the Honour to marry her.
Ang. By Heaven, there’s no Faith in any thing he says.

Enter Moretta
Moret. Madam, Don Antonio and Don Pedro sue to see thee.
Hell. Ha, Antonio and my brother! They may be coming hither, and they’ll certainly discover me, I’ll
therefore retire without a Ceremony.[Exit Hellena.
Ang. I’ll see Antonio, get my Coach ready.
Moret. It waits you, Madam.
Will. This is lucky: Alas, Madam, must I now be gone and leave you to the enjoyment of my Rival?

Ang. Dull Man, that canst not see how ill, how poor
That false dissimulation looks—Be gone,
And never let me see thy cozening Face again.
Will. Yes, you can spare me now,—farewell till you are in a better Humour—I’m glad of this release—
Now for my Gipsy [Ex. Will]

Ang.
Oh with what willing haste he took his leave,
He’s gone, and in this Ague of My Soul
The shivering Fit returns;
In vain I have consulted all my Charms,
And though my eyes could kindle any lasting Fires.
I had forgot my Name, my Infamy,
And how all men prefer the younger mistress.
Well sir since I am not fit to be beloved,
I am resolved to think on some Revenge
On him that shamed me thus
And made of me a gull and slave at Carnival. [Exeunt].

37
 SCENE III. A Street.

Enter Florinda and Valeria and Hellena in Habits different from what they have been seen in.
Flor. We’re happily escap’d, yet I tremble still. Our brother’s angry.
Val. A Lover and fear! why, I am but half a one, and yet I have Courage for any Attempt.
Hellena. But why would you have us in new guises?
Valeria. Because our brother hath found out our old ones.
Flor. Prithee what didst do with Callis?
Val. When I saw no Reason would do good on her, I followed her into the Wardrobe, and as she was
looking for something in the great Chest, I tumbled her in by the Heels, locked her in, and left her
bawling for help.
Flor. ’Tis well you resolve to follow my Fortunes, for thou darest never appear at home again after
such an Action.
Val. That’s according to Frederick and I shall agree—But to our business—I delivered your Note
to Belvile, and I told him of your Resolution of making your escape to day. I bade him seek our brother
out and persuade him that all that passed on the Molo was but Carnival mirth.
Flor. Yet I am afraid lest our devices go awry.
Val. Nay, has not my wit served well till now? How now, Hellena? Silent for this once? Does it go ill
with your affairs also?
Hellena. I know not yet. Nor know I well how I should handle my mad captain, for he’s as hard to
catch as a falcon with no tresses. .
Flor. Oh Heavens! Here comes our brother, and Belvile with him too. I muse they are become friends
again. [They put on their Vizards.

Enter Don Pedro, Belvile, Willmore; Belvile and Don Pedro seeming in serious Discourse.
Val. I’ll walk boldly by them, and draw Pedro off lest he suspect you.[She walks by them, and looks
back on them.
Belvile. It was a mirth no more!
Pedro. ‘Tis well we’re friends again.
Willmore. Ha! A woman and of excellent mien.
Ped. She throws a kind look back on you.
Will. Death, tis a likely Wench, and that kind look shall not be cast away—I’ll follow her.
Belv. Prithee do not.
Will. Do not! By Heavens to the Antipodes, with such an Invitation.[She goes out, and Will. follows
her.
Belv. ’Tis a mad Fellow for a Wench.

Enter Fred.
Fred. Oh Colonel, such News.
Belv. Prithee what?
Fred. News that will make you laugh in spite of Fortune. Ned Blunt’s been cheated sir, rarely cheated
of all but a harlot’s drawers.
Ped. Who is’t has met with this ill usage, Sir?
Belv. A Friend of ours, whom you must see for Mirth’s sake.
Ped. Who is he?

38
Belv. An Englishman that yet ne’er knew the want of Money, and ’twill be a great Jest to see how
simply he’ll look without it. Prithee, Fred. Do you go home and keep him in that posture till we come.
[Exit Fred] [Aside] I’ll employ Don Pedro in this to give Florinda time for an escape. Sir, let us first dally
with yonder nymphs. There’s one for each.
Pedro. Content! I’ll venture with the second. Do you Belvile take the third..

Enter Florinda from the farther end of the Scene, looking behind her.
Flor. Ha, my Brother advancing this way, good Heavens defend me from being seen by him.[She
goes off. Pedro follows her.
Pedro. Nay, be not coy. Here’s coin for you.

Enter Willmore, and after him Valeria, at a little distance.

Will. Ah! There she sails, she looks back as she were willing to be boarded, I’ll warrant her Prize.[He
goes out, Valeria following.

Enter Hellena
Hell. Hah, now my Captain that has Valeria in chase? [She goes, Pedro following]
Pedro. Do I spy you again? Methought I’d lost [Link]!

Scene changes to another Street. Enter Florinda.

Flor. What shall I do? I fear my Brother still pursues me. Ha! Here’s a Door open, I’ll venture in. My
Life and Honour are at stake, and my Necessity has no choice.[She goes in.

Enter Valeria.

Val. This is Belvile’s Lodgings; she’s gone in as readily as if she knew it. Hah—here’s that mad Fellow
again, I dare not venture in—I’ll watch my Opportunity.[Goes aside.

Enter Willmore, gazing about him.

Will. I have lost her hereabouts.
Pedro. I have lost mine too. Let’s seek out Belvile.
Willmore. Pox on’t. She must not escape me so. .[Goes out.]
Hellena. Well there’s no checking him in this humour. I must devise some newer trick to plague him.

Scene changes to Blunt’s Chamber, discovers him sitting on a Couch in his Shirt and Drawers,
reading.
Blunt. A Pox on this Taylor, for not yet bringing home the Clothes I bespoke; and a Pox of all poor
Cavaliers, a Man can never keep a spare Suit for ’em; and I shall have these Rogues come in and
find me naked; and then I’m undone;There’s the worst of all – the colonel and Willmore, that rogue,
will abuse me out of all Christian patience. But I’m resolv’d to arm my self—the Rascals shall not
insult over me too much.[Puts on an old rusty Sword and Buff-Belt.
—What a dog was I to believe woman, to be thus soothed into cozening. A Pox light on her, I shall
never be reconciled to the Sex more.! What wou’d I give to have one of ’em within my reach now! Any
Mortal thing in Petticoats, on whom to be revenged. But here’s a cursed Book, A Warning to English
Travellers, this may instruct me how to prevent such Mischiefs now ’tis too late. O dog. O silly dog!
Well ’tis a rare convenient thing to read a little now and then ease the mind. .[Sits down again and
reads.

Enter to him Florinda.

Flor. This House is haunted sure, ’tis well furnished and no living thing inhabits it—hah—a Man!
Heavens how he’s attired! Yet I must venture now to speak to him—Sir, [He starts up and gazes]
Blunt. Hah—what’s here?
Flor. if I may not interrupt your Meditations—.

39
Blunt. Are my wishes granted? and is not that a she Creature? Adsheartlikins ’tis! what wretched thing
art thou—hah!
Flor. A very wretched Maid, forced by a strange unlucky Accident, to seek a safety here, and must be
ruined, if you do not grant it.
Blunt. Ruin’d! Is there any Ruin so inevitable as that which now threatens thee? Dost thou know,
miserable Woman, into what Den of Mischiefs thou art fall’n? Dost not see something in my looks that
frights thy guilty Soul,
Flor. Alas, what mean you, Sir? I must confess your Looks have something in ’em makes me fear; but
I beseech you, as you seem a Gentleman, pity a harmless Virgin, that takes your House for
Sanctuary.
Blunt. Talk on, talk on, and weep too, till my faith return. Do, flatter me out of my Senses again—
a harmless Virgin with a Pox, as much one as t’other, adsheartlikins. Why, what the Devil can I not be
safe in my chamber from you? Nay, even being naked too cannot secure me. This is an Impudence
greater than has invaded me yet.—Come, no Resistance.[Pulls her rudely] To the bed within.
Flor. Dare you be so cruel?
Blunt. Cruel? Yes thou shalt lie with me. Not that I care for the enjoyment, but to let you see I will be
revenged on one Whore for the Sins of another; I will smile and deceive thee, flatter thee, and beat
thee, embrace 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 scurvy 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.
.

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? Another Person of Quality, who is upon 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 Fools
Haven. Is the Ass to be cajoled again, think ye? No, young one, therefore prepare for both my
Pleasures of Enjoyment and Revenge, for I am resolved to make up my Loss here on thy Body…
Fred. Now, Mistress 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 enamour’d with thy sword and Drawers, I
fear she’ll strip thee even of that. There are of her Calling such unconscionable Baggages, and
such dextrous 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.
Blunt. ’Dsheartlikins, why, this is most abominable.
Fred. You see, Lady, how little Reason we have to trust you.
Flor. By all that’s holy I am none such, I entered here to save a Life in danger.
Fred. For no goodness I’ll warrant her.
Flor. I am a lady of quality.
Fred. Very like! Why go you thus tricked out so wantonly.
Flor. Why ‘tis for Carnival.

40
Fred. Faith, Damsel, we are not Fellows not to be caught twice in the same Trap: Look on that Wreck,
a tight Vessel when he set out of Haven, well trim’d and laden, and see how a Female Piccaroon of
this Island of Rogues has shatter’d him.
Blunt. ‘Adsheartlikins, we’ll both lie with her, and then let me alone to bang her.
Fred. I am ready to serve you in matters of Revenge, that has a double Pleasure in’t.
Blunt. Well said. You hear, little one, how you are condemn’d by publick Vote to lie with us [Pulls her.
Flor. Stay, Sir, I have seen you with Belvile, an English Cavalier, for his sake use me kindly; you know
him, Sir.
Fred. Beivile?
Blunt. Belvile! why, yes, Sweeting, we do know Belvile, and wish he were with us now, he’s a
Cormorant at Whore and Bacon, he’d have a Limb or two of thee, my Virgin Pullet:
Flor. Sir, if you have any Esteem for that Belvile, I conjure you to treat me with more Gentleness…
Fred. Hark ye, Blunt, I doubt we are mistaken in this matter.
Flor. Sir, If you find me not worth Belvile’s Care, use me as you please; and that you may think I merit
better treatment than you threaten—pray take this Present—[Gives him a Ring: He looks on it.
Blunt. Hum—A Diamond!
Fred. I begin to suspect something; and ’twou’d anger us vilely to be truss’d up for a Rape upon a
Maid of Quality, when we only believe we ruffle a Harlot.
Blunt. Thou art a credulous Fellow. Why, my Saint prattled as parlously as this does,...
Fred. Yet let this ring reprieve her till we see Belvile.
Blunt. That’s hard, yet I will grant it.

Enter Philip
Philip. Oh, Sir, the Colonel is just come with Willmore and a Spaniard of Quality, and talks of having
you to Dinner with ’em. But the tailors not yet come.
Blunt. ’Dsheartlikins, I’m undone—I would not see ’em for the World: And, Sirrah—upon your Life, say
—I am not at home—or that I am asleep—or—or any thing—away!
Blunt. Harkye, Fred, lock up the Wench in your Chamber.
Fred. Fear nothing, Madam, whate’er he threatens, you’re safe whilst in my Hands.
[Ex. Fred. and Flor.
Blunt. .[Locks the Door and Exeunt.

ACT V.

SCENE I. Blunt’s Chamber.

After a great knocking as at his Chamber-door, enter Blunt softly, crossing the Stage in his Shirt
and Drawers, as before.
Voices. [Call within]. Ned, Ned Blunt, Ned Blunt
Blunt. The Rogues are up in Arms, ’dsheartlikins, this villainous Frederick has betray’d me, they have
heard of my blessed Fortune.
Ned Blunt, Ned, Ned—[and knocking within.
Philip. Why, he’s dead, Sir, without dispute dead, he has not been seen to day;
Belvile. Willmore, let’s break open the door
Blunt. ‘Adsheartlikins Ha, break open the Door!

41
Blunt. Hold—hold, what do you mean, Gentlemen, what do you mean?
Belv. Oh Rogue, art alive? prithee open the Door, and convince us.
Blunt. No, no, no, no, Gentlemen, I am—at—my Devotion,—’dsheartlikins, will you not allow a man
time to pray?
Belv. Turned religious! A greater Wonder than the first, therefore open quickly…
Blunt. This won’t do—Why, hark ye, Colonel; to tell you the plain Truth—I have a Wench with me—
you apprehend me?.
Will. How, a Wench! Nay, then we must enter and partake also. Come, come, lend more hands to the
Door,—now heave altogether—so, well done, my Boys—[Breaks open the Door.

Enter Belvile, Willmore, Fred. Pedro Blunt looks simply, they all laugh at him, he lays his hand
on his Sword, and conies up to Willmore.
Blunt. Hark ye, Sir, laugh out your laugh quickly, d’ye hear, and be gone, I shall spoil your sport else;
’dsheartlikins, a Plague upon my Tailor—[Aside.
Will. ’Sdeath, how the Whore has drest him! Faith, Sir, I’m sorry.
Blunt. Are you so, Sir? keep’t to your self then, Sir, I advise you, d’ye hear? for I can as little endure
your Pity as his Mirth.[Lays his Hand on’s Sword.
Belv. Why so peevish, good Ned?
Blunt. Look ye, settle me a good sober Countenance, and that quickly too, or you shall know Ned
Blunt is not—
Belv. Not everybody, we know that.
Blunt. Not an Ass, to be laught at, Sir.
Ped. Sir, tho I’m a stranger to you, I’m ashamed at the rudeness of my Nation; and could you learn
who did it, would assist you to make an Example of ’em.
Blunt. Why, ay, there’s one speaks sense now, and handsomly; and let me tell you Gentlemen,
I should not have shew’d my self like a Jack-Pudding, thus to have made you Mirth, but that I have
revenge within my power; for know, I have got into my possession a Female, who had better have
fallen under any Curse, than the Ruin I design her: ’Adsheartlikins, she assaulted me here in my own
Lodgings, and had doubtless committed a Rape upon me, had not this Sword defended me.
Fred. I knew not that, but o’ my Conscience thou had’st ravished her, had she not redeem’d her self
with a Ring—let’s see’t, Blunt.[Blunt shews the Ring.
Belv. Hah!—the Ring I gave Florinda when we exchanged our Vows!—hark ye, Blunt—[Goes to
whisper to him.
Will. No whispering, good Colonel, there’s a Woman in the case, no whispering.
Belv. Hark ye, Fool, be advis’d, and conceal both the Ring and the Story, for your Reputation’s sake;
don’t let People know what despis’d Cullies we English are.
Will. Come, come, where’s the Wench? we’ll see her, let her be what she will, we’ll see her.
Ped. Ay, ay, let us see her, I can soon discover whether she be of Quality, or for your Diversion.
Blunt. She’s in Fred’s Custody.
Will. Come, come, the Key.[To Fred. who gives him the Key, they are going.
Belv. Stay, Gentlemen—yet if I hinder ’em, I shall discover all—hold, let’s go one at once—give me
the Key.
Will. Nay, hold there, Colonel, I’ll go first.
Fred. Nay, no Dispute, Ned and I have the propriety of her.
Will. Damn Propriety—then we’ll draw Cuts. [Belv. goes to whisper Will.] Nay, no Corruption, good
Colonel: come, the longest Sword carries her.—[They all draw, forgetting Don Pedro, being a
Spaniard, had the longest.

42
Blunt. I yield up my Interest to you Gentlemen, and that will be Revenge sufficient.
Will. Pox of his Toledo, I had forgot that. (To Ped.) The Wench is yours—
Fred. Come, Sir, I’ll conduct you to the Lady.[Ex. Fred. and Ped.
Belv. To hinder him will certainly discover— [Aside.]
Pedro. Lady, sure ‘tis some common carrion. She’s never haunt your house else.
Belvile. Dost know, dull Beast, what Mischief thou hast done?[Will. walking up and down out of
Humour.
Will. Ay, ay, to trust our Fortune to Lots, a Devil on’t, ’twas .
Belv. Oh intolerable Sot!
Pedro. ‘Tis a hot, crafty, queen, she is so eager to go to it. I’ll have her.

Enter Florinda, running masqu’d, Pedro after her, Will. gazing round her.
Flor. Good Heaven, defend me from discovery.[Aside.
Pedro. ’Tis but in vain to fly me, you are fallen to my Lot.
Belv. Sure she is undiscover’d yet, but how shall I bring her off.
Will. Why, what a Pox is not this my Woman, the same I followed but now?
[Ped. talking to Florinda, who walks up and down.
Ped. As if I did not know ye, and your Business here.
Flor. [Aside] Good Heaven! I fear he does indeed—
Ped. Come, pray be kind, I know you meant to be so when you enter’d here. S’life, she’s goodly
limbed. I’ll have her.
Will. But, Sir—perhaps the Lady will not be impos’d upon. Let her choose her Man.
Ped. I am better bred, than not to leave her Choice free. Come mistres, leave off this pretended
coyness and take your pick of five good fellows that are as eager for the act thou camest for as thou
art apt to undergo it. Or if you will take all of us and let me be first I’ the file.

Enter Valeria, and is surprized at the Sight of Don Pedro.

Val. Hold.

Florinda }
Pedro } Valeria!
Frederick}
Fred. My little gypsy!
Val. Don Pedro here! there’s no avoiding him.[Aside] Oh! have I found you, Sir— [To Pedro, running
to him.] —The strangest Accident—if I had breath—to tell it.
Ped. Speak—is Florinda safe? Hellena well?
Val. Ay, ay, Sir—Florinda—is safe—from any fears of you.
Ped. Why, where’s Florinda?—speak.
Val. Ay, where indeed, Sir? I wish I could inform you,—But to hold you no longer in doubt—
Flor. [Aside] Oh, what will she say!.
Val. She’s fled away in the Habit of one of her Pages, Sir—but Callis thinks you may retrieve her yet,
if you make haste away; she’ll tell you, Sir, the rest—[Aside] if you can find her out..
Ped. Dishonourable Girl, she has undone my Aim—[to Belvile] Sir—you see my necessity of leaving
you, and I hope you’ll pardon it: my Sister, I know, will make her flight to you; and if she do, I shall
expect she should be rendered back.

43
Belv. I shall consult my Love and Honour, Sir.
[Ex. Ped.
Flor. My dear Preserver, let me embrace thee.[To Val.
Will. What the Devil’s all this?
Blunt. Mystery by this Light.
Val. Come, come, make haste and get your selves married quickly, for your Brother will return again.
Belv. I am so surprised with Fears and Joys, I can scarce persuade my Heart into a Faith of what I
see—
Will. Harkye, Colonel, is this that Mistress who has cost you so many Sighs, and me so many
Quarrels with you?
Belv. It is—.[To Flor] .Pray give him the Honour of your Hand
Will. Thus it must be received then. [Kneels and kisses her Hand.] And with it give your Pardon too.
Flor. The Friend to Belvile may command me anything.
Will. [Aside] Death, would I might, ’tis a surprising Beauty..
[Enter Philip]
Belv. Philip, run and fetch a Father instantly.[Exit Philip]
Blunt. [To Florinda] .I have a Pardon to beg too; but adsheartlikins I am so out of Countenance, that I
am a Dog if I can say anything to purpose.
Flor. Sir, I heartily forgive you all.
Blunt. That’s nobly said, sweet Lady—Belvile, prithee present her her Ring again, for I find I have not
Courage to approach her my self.[Gives him the Ring, he gives it to Florinda.
Fred. So, now do I stand like a Dog, and have not a Syllable to plead my own Cause with: by this
Hand, Madam, I was never so thoroughly confounded before, nor shall I ever more dare look up with
Confidence, till you are pleased to pardon me.
Flor. Sir, I’ll be reconciled to you on one Condition, that you’ll follow the Example of your Friend, in
marrying a Maid that does not hate you, and whose Fortune (I believe) will not be unwelcome to you.
Fred. Madam, had I no Inclinations that way, and if she’ll have me I should obey your kind
Commands.
Belv. Who, Fred. Marry? he has so few Inclinations towards wedlock..
Fred. Oh, I do not use to boast of my Intrigues.
Belv. Boast! why thou do’st nothing but boast;
Fred. I wish this Lady would think me more modest a Man.
Val. She should be sorry then, and not like you half so well, and I should be loath to break my Word
with you; which was, That if your Friend and mine are agreed, it shou’d be a Match between you and
I.[She gives him her Hand.
Fred. Bear witness, Colonel, ’tis a Bargain.[Kisses her Hand.

[Enter Philip]
Philip. Sir, I have brought the Father that you sent for. He would know your purposes and craves you
speak to him; For I know not why you sent for him, nor whether ‘twas for a christening or a funeral.
[Exit]
Belv. ’Tis well, and now my dear Florinda, let’s fly to complete that mighty Joy we have so long wish’d
for.—Come, Fred. you’ll follow?
Fred. Your Example, Sir,’twas ever my Ambition in War, and must be so in Love.
Will. And must not I see this juggling Knot tied?

44
All. No!
Belv. No, thou shalt do us better Service, and be our Guard, lest Don Pedro’s sudden return interrupt
the Ceremony.
Will. Content; I’ll secure this Pass.[Ex. Bel. Flor. Fred. and Val.

Enter Philip
Philip. Sir, your Taylor waits you in your Chamber with a noble suit of clothes aa made to your
measures. I warrant ‘tis goodly.
Blunt. Some comfort yet, I shall not dance naked at the Wedding
Philip.[To Will]. Sir, there’s a Lady without wou’d speak to you. She’s very fine, fair and eager too. I
told her you were not at liberty.
Will. Nay, bring her in, I dare not quit my Post. This can be none but my pretty Gipsy.
[Ex. Blunt and Philip].

Enter Angelica in a masquing Habit and a Vizard, Will. runs to her.

Will. I see you can follow as well as fly—Come, confess thy self the most malicious Devil in Nature;
you think you have done my Bus’ness with Angelica—
Ang. It is not done—[She draws a Pistol and holds to his Breast.
Will. Hah, ’tis not she: who art thou?
Ang. One thou hast injur’d, and who comes to kill thee for’t.
Will. Prithee on what Acquaintance? for I know thee not.

Ang. Behold this Face!—so lost to thy Remembrance!.[Pulls off her Vizard.
Will. Angellica!

Ang. Yes, Traitor.

Does not thy guilty Blood run shivering thro thy Veins?
Will. Faith, no Child, my Blood keeps its old Ebbs and Flows still, and that usual Heat too, that could
oblige thee with a Kindness, had I but opportunity.
Ang. Devil! dost wanton with my Pain?
Will. Hold, dear Virago! hold thy Hand a little,
I am not now at leisure to be kill’d—hold and hear me—.[Aside] .Death, I think she’s in earnest

Ang. What have you, Sir, to say?—Nay do not speak. For I know well if I should hear thee out,
Thoud’st talk away all that is brave about me:[Follows him with the Pistol to his Breast.
And I have vow’d thy Death, by all that’s sacred.
Will. Why, then there’s an end of a proper handsome Fellow, that might have liv’d to have done good
Service yet:—That’s all I can say to it..
Ang. Yet—I would give thee time for - Penitence.[Pausingly.
Will. Faith, Child, I thank God, I have ever took care to lead a good, sober, hopeful Life, and am of a
Religion that teaches me to believe, I shall depart in Peace.

Ang. Nay, Willmore, tell me first – tell me how many poor believing Fools thou hast undone;
How many Hearts thou hast betray’d to ruin!
Will. Why , as I think, no more nor less than you.
Ang. You said you loved me.
Willmore. So did I, that instant.

45
Ang.
And at that instant I gave you my heart
I’d price enough and love enough to think
That it could raise thy soul above the vulgar
Nay, make you all soul too, and soft and constant
Why did you lie and cheapen me? Alas,
I thought all men were born to be my slaves,
And wore my power like lightening in my eyes
But when love held the mirror, that cruel glass
Reflected all the weakness of my soul;
My pride was turned to submissive passion
And so I bowed, which I ne’er did before
To anyone or anything but heaven.
I thought that I had won you and that you
Would value me the higher for my folly.
But now I see you gave me no more than dog lust,
Made me your spaniel bitch; and so I fell
Like a long worshipped idol at the last
Perceived a fraud, a cheat, a bauble. Why
Didst thou destroy my too long fancied power?
Why didst thou give me oaths? Why didst thou kneel
And make me soft? Why, why didst thou enslave me?

Willmore. Egad I see thy heart is shrewdly nipped.

Ang Ah sir, ah sir, I yet had been content to wear my Chains with Vanity and Joy,
Hadst thou not broke those Vows that put them on.
.
[All this while follows him with a Pistol to his Breas]t.

Will. Broke my Vows! why, where hast thou lived?

Amongst the Gods! For I never heard of mortal Man,
That has not broke a thousand Vows.

Ang. Oh, Impudence!

Will. Angelica! that Beauty has been too long tempting,

Not to have made a thousand Lovers languish,
Who in the amorous Favour, no doubt have sworn
Like me; did they all die in that Faith? still adoring?
I do not think they did.
Ang. Had I repaid their Vows, as I did thine, I would have killed the ungrateful that had
abandoned me.
Will. This old General has quite spoil’d thee, nothing makes a Woman so vain, as being flatter’d; your
old Lover ever supplies the Defects of Age, with intolerable Dotage, vast Charge, and that which you
call Constancy; and attributing all this to your own Merits, you domineer, and throw your Favours in’s
Teeth, upbraiding him still with the Defects of Age, and cuckold him as often as he deceives your
Expectations. But the gay, young, brisk Lover, that brings his equal Fires, and can give you Dart for
Dart, he’ll be as nice as you sometimes.

Ang. All this is true for which I hate thee more.

Will.
I wish I were that dull, that constant thing,
Which thou woud’st have, and Nature never meant me:
I must, like chearful Birds, sing in all Groves,
And perch on every Bough,
Billing the next kind She that flies to meet me;

46
Yet after all cou’d build my Nest with thee,
Thither repairing when I’d lov’d my round,
And still reserve a tributary Flame.

Ang. Willmore, you have a charm almost persuades

Me to take you as you are, and not as I
Will have you be. And yet by god, I will not
Share you with any. I am one that would have
All or none. Therefore prepare.
Will. Sure—
Ang. Damn thee! I’ve heard thee talk too long.[She follows him with a Pistol ready to shoot: he retires
still amaz’d.
97

Enter Don Antonio, his Arm in a Scarf, and lays hold on the Pistol.
Ant. Ha! Angelica!
Ang. Antonio! What Devil brought thee hither?
Ant. Love and Curiosity, seeing your Coach at Door. Let me disarm you of this unbecoming
Instrument of Death.— [Takes away the Pistol.] Amongst the Number of your Slaves, was there not
one worthy the Honour to have fought your Quarrel?
—Who are you, Sir, that are so very wretched to merit Death from her?
Will. One, Sir, that cou’d have made a better End of an amorous Quarrel without you, than with you.
Ant. Sure ’tis some the English rogue that took down her Picture yesterday—yea, the very same that
set on me last night—Blessed opportunity—[Offers to shoot him.
Ang. Hold, you’re mistaken, Sir.

Ant. By Heaven the very same! Sir, what pretensions have you to this Lady?
Will. Sir, I do not use to be examin’d, and am ill at all Disputes but this—[Draws, Anton. offers to
shoot.

Ang. [To Will] Oh, hold! you see he’s arm’d with certain Death:
And you, Antonio, I command you hold,
By all the Passion you’ve so lately vow’d me.
.
Ant.
May you destroy me with your mortal hate
When I refuse Obedience to your Will,
By all that’s Holy I adore you so,
That even my Rival, who has Charms enough
To make him fall a Victim to my Jealousy,
Shall live, nay, and have leave to love on still.

Ang. Antonio, yesterday,

I’d not have sold my Interest in his Heart,
For all the Sword has won and lost in Battle.
[To Will] But now to show my utmost of Contempt,
I give thee Life—which if thou would’st preserve,
Live where my Eyes may never see thee more,
Live to undo some one, whose Soul may prove
So bravely constant to revenge my Love.
[To Antonio] Sir ,since I have a thousand crowns of you,
Come to my chamber; when you will, I care not.

Antonio Now I have her. St Jago I am happy.

47
Ped. Antonio—stay! Have you forgot Florinda?
Ant. Don Pedro—

Ped. What Coward Fear was that prevented thee

From meeting me this Morning on the Molo?

Ant. Meet thee?

Ped. Yes me; I was the Man that dared thee

.
Ant. Finding myself unapt to use a Sword.
I sent another blade to do thee right.

Ped. But ’twas Florinda’s Quarrel that we fought,

And you to shew how little you esteemed her,
Sent me your Rival, Belvile in your place
When I meet you fit for the Dispute,
I’ll tell you my Resentment.
Ant. I shall be ready, Sir, e’er long to do you Reason.[Exit Ant.
Ped. If I cou’d find Florinda, now whilst my Anger’s high, I think I shou’d be kind, and give her
to Belvile in Revenge.
Will. Faith, Sir, I know not what you wou’d do, but I believe the Priest within has been so kind.
Ped. How! my Sister married?
Will. I hope by this time she is, and bedded too, or he has not my longings about him.
Ped. Dares he do thus? Does he not fear my Power?
Will. Faith not at all. If you will go in, and thank him for the Favour he has done your Sister, so; if not,
I have a damned surly Crew here, that will keep you till the next Tide, and then clap you an board for
Prize; my Ship lies but a League off the Molo, and we shall show your Donship a
damned English Rover’s Trick.

Enter Belvile.
Belv. This Rogue’s in some new Mischief—Ha!, Pedro returned!
Ped. Colonel Belvile, I hear you have married my Sister.
Belv. You have heard truth then, Sir.
Ped. Have I so? then, Sir, I wish you Joy.
Belv. How!
Ped. By this Embrace I do, and I glad on’t.
Belv. Are you in earnest?
Ped. By our long Friendship and my Obligations to thee, I am. I love my sister and shall with all honest
endeavour to make her happy. Come lead me into my Sister, that she may know I now approve her
Choice.[Exit Bel. with Ped.
[Will. goes to follow them. Enter Hellena as before in Boy’s Clothes, and pulls him back.
Will. Ha! my Gipsy—Now a thousand Blessings on thee for this Kindness. Egad, Child, I was e’en in
despair of ever seeing thee again; my Friends are all provided for within, each Man his kind Woman.
And I was e’en resolved to go aboard, condemn myself to my lone Cabin, and the Thoughts of thee.
Hell. And could you have left me behind?
Will. Why, ’twould have broke my Heart, Child.
Hell. Sir, since your friends and mine are all provided for, will you be a faithful Friend now? if a Maid
should trust you?

48
Will. For being a Friend I cannot promise, thou art of a Form so excellent, a Face and Humour too
good for cold dull Friendship; I am parlously afraid of being in love, Child, and you have not forgotten
how severely you have used me.
Hell. That’s all one, such Usage you must still look for, to find out all your Haunts, to rail at you before
all that love you, till I have made you love only me in your own Defence, because nobody else will
love.
Will. But hast thou no better Quality to recommend thy self by?
Hell. Faith none, Captain., I am a lone Child, a kind of Orphan Lover; and why I should die a Maid,
and in a Captain’s Hands too, I do not understand.
Will. Egad, I was never claw’d away with Broad-Sides from any Female before, thou hast one Virtue I
adore, good-Nature.
Hell. Nay, then let’s lose no time.
Will. My time’s as precious to me, as thine can be; therefore, dear Creature, since we are so well
agreed, let’s retire to my Chamber. Come, My Bed’s prepared for such a Guest, all clean and sweet
as thy fair self; Come, let’s retire and fall to.
Hell. ’Tis but getting my Consent, and the Business is soon done; let but old Gaffer Hymen and his
Priest say Amen to’t, and I dare lay my Mother’s Daughter by as proper a Fellow as your Father’s
Son, without fear or blushing.
Will. Hold, hold, no Bug 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. Marriage is as certain a Bane to Love, as
lending Money is to Friendship: I’ll neither ask nor give a Vow, though I could be content to have the
Pleasure of working that great Miracle of making a Maid a Mother, if you durst venture.
Hell. And 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 swaddling clothes to pass my time with?
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! I am resolv’d you shall have none, for asking such a sneaking Sum. Good Friend
single-Kiss, is all your talking come to this? A Kiss, a Caudle! farewell, Captain single-Kiss.[Going out
he stays her.
Will. By Heaven since we are met again 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! Now, I beseech you, your Name, that I might know at whom to
throw my blessings.
Will. I am called Robert the Constant.
Hell. A very fine Name!
Will. I hope you have a better.
Hell. I am call’d Hellena the Inconstant.

Enter Pedro, Belvile, Florinda, Fred. Valeria.

Ped. Ha! Hellena!
Flor. Hellena!
Hell. Ha 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 your Business? Speak.[Goes roughly to her.
Will. Hold off, Sir, you have leave to parley only.[Puts himself between.

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Hell. Faith, Brother, my Business is the same with all living Creatures of my Age, to love, and to be
loved, and here’s the Man.
Ped. Hast thou deceived me too, deceived thy self and Heaven?
Hell. Be you but kind, let me alone with Heaven.
Ped. Belvile, I did not expect this false Play from you; was’t not enough you’d gain Florinda, which I
pardoned, but your lewd Friends too must be enriched with the Spoils of a noble Family? All three
ruined in an instant.
Belv. Faith, Sir, I am as much surprised at this as you can be: Yet, Sir, my Friends are Gentlemen,
and ought to be esteemed for their Misfortunes, since they have the Glory to suffer with the best of
Men and Kings; ’tis true, he’s a Rover of Fortune, yet a Prince aboard his little wooden World.
Ped. Sir, Can you maintain a woman of Hellena’s birth and fortune?
Will. Faith, Sir, I can boast of nothing but a Sword which does me Right where-e’er I come, and since I
loved her before I either knew her Birth or Name, I must pursue my Resolution, and marry her.
Ped. And is all your holy Intent of becoming a Nun debauched into a Desire of Man?
Hell. Why—I have consider’d the matter, Brother, and find the Three hundred thousand Crowns my
Uncle left me, and you cannot keep from me, will be better laid out in Love than in Religion.
Belvile. Let most voices carry it; for heaven or the captain.
All cry, a Captain, a Captain.
Hell. The captain! Look ye, Sir,’tis a clear Case.
Ped. Oh I am mad—if I refuse, my Life’s in Danger; take her—I shall now be free from fears of her
Honour; guard it you now, if you can, I have been a Slave to’t long enough.[Gives her to him.
Will. Faith, Sir, I am of a Nation, that are of opinion a Woman’s Honour is not worth guarding when
she has a mind to part with it.
Hell. Well said, Captain.
Ped. This was your Plot, Valeria.
Val. There’s no altering Destiny, Sir.
Ped. Sooner than a Woman’s Will, therefore I forgive you all—and wish you may get my Father’s
Pardon as easily; which I fear.

Enter Blunt drest in a Restoration Habit, looking very ridiculously; Philip adjusting his Band.
Philip. ’Tis very well, Sir.I ne’er saw you look so fine.
Blunt. Well, Sir, ’adsheartlikins I tell you ’tis damnable ill, Good Lord —a Spanish Habit,
Belv. What’s the matter, Ned?
Blunt. Pray view me round, and judge—[Turns round.
Belv. I must confess thou art a kind of an odd Figure.
Blunt. Mmethinks I look altogether like a bouquet garni stuff’d full of Fools Flesh.
Belv. Methinks ’tis well, and makes thee look e’en Cavalier: Come, Sir, settle your Face, and salute
your Friends.
Blunt. Hah! Say’st thou so, my little Rover? [To Hell.] Lady, if you be one, give me leave to kiss your
Hand, and tell you, adsheartlikins, for all I look so, I am your humble Servant.
Will. Hark—what’s this?[Musick is heard to Play.

Enter Philip
Philip. The Masqueraders are coming up. Pray let ‘em enter , for they are merry.

Enter several Men and Women in masquing Habits, with Musick, they put themselves in order
and dance.

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Blunt. Adsheartlikins, would ’twere lawful to pull off their false Faces, that I might see if my Doxy were
not amongst ’em.
Belv. Nay, let’s have no more banging. Ladies and Gentlemen, since you are come so a propos, you
must drink with us ere Lent be come.[To the Masquers.
Will. Come, we’ll to the Good Man within, who stays to give us a Cast of his Office.[To Hell.
Have you no trembling at the near approach?
Hell. No more than you have in an Engagement or a Tempest.
Will. Egad, thou’rt a brave Girl, and I admire thy Love and Courage.
Belvile. I’ll give you all a toast. To the Prince over the water. And present friends. [A bell sounds] Lent
is come.
Frederick. Pox on’t.
Belvile. So now each one of you must go back to’s several occupations.
Florinda. And must thou back to the wars?
Belvile. Yea for a little.
Florinda. Alas.
Belvile.
Soon shall the King be set on his throne.
Then all in England shall enjoy their own.

Florinda. But let us now no future Dangers dread,

Than present ventures of the Marriage-Bed.

[Exeunt.]

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