n Sin. For such it is, whilst that which is Love's
due is meanly barter'd for.

_Ang._ Ha, ha, ha, 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 _Worcester_.

_Ang._ Nay, do not abuse the poor Creature.--

_Moret._ Good Weather-beaten Corporal, will you march off? we have no
need of your Doctrine, tho you have of our Charity; but at present we
have no Scraps, we can afford no kindness for God's sake; in fine,
Sirrah, the Price is too high i'th' Mouth for you, therefore troop,
I say.

_Will._ Here, good Fore-Woman of the Shop, serve me, and I'll be gone.

_Moret._ Keep it to pay your Landress, 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, but this is an Age wherein
Beauty is at higher Rates.-- In fine, you know the price of this.

_Will._ I grant you 'tis here set down a thousand Crowns a Month-- Baud,
take your black Lead and sum it up, that I may have a Pistole-worth of
these vain gay things, and I'll trouble you no more.

_Moret._ Pox on him, he'll fret me to Death:-- 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, I cannot be your Chapman.-- Yet I have
Countrymen, in Town, Merchants of Love, like me; I'll see if they'l put
for a share, we cannot lose much by it, and what we have no use for,
we'll sell upon the _Friday's_ Mart, at-- _Who gives more?_ I am
studying, Madam, how to purchase you, tho 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 contemn your Mind.
--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;