so out of Humour
home-- and is gone to Bed in such a sullen Fit.

_Car._ To Bed, and all alone! I would surprize her there. Oh how it
pleases me to think of stealing into her Arms like a fine Dream, Wench,
hah.

_Aur._ 'Twill be a pleasant one, no doubt.

_Pet._ He lays the way out how he'll be cozen'd. [Aside.]
--The Seigniora perhaps may be angry, Sir, but I'll venture that to
accommodate you; and that you may surprize her the more readily, be
pleased to stay in my Chamber, till you think she may be asleep.

_Car._ Thou art a perfect Mistress of thy Trade.

_Pet._ So, now will I to the Seigniora's Bed my self, drest and
perfum'd, and finish two good Works at once; earn five hundred Crowns,
and keep up the Honour of the House. [Aside.] --Softly, sweet Don.
[Lights him out.

_Aur._ And I will do two more good things, and disappoint your
Expectations; jilt the young _English_ Fool, and have old _Carlo_ well
bang'd, if t'other have any Courage.

Enter _La Nuche_ in Rage, and _Sancho_.

_La Nu._ _Aurelia_, help, help me to be reveng'd upon this wretched
unconsidering Heart.

_Aur._ Heavens, have you made the Rover happy, Madam?

_La Nu._ Oh wou'd I had! or that or any Sin wou'd change this Rage into
some easier Passion: Sickness and Poverty, Disgrace and Pity, all met in
one, were kinder than this Love, this raging Fire of a proud amorous
Heart.

Enter _Petronella_.

_Pet._ Heavens, what's the matter?

_Aur._ Here's _Petronella_, dissemble but your Rage a little.

_La Nu._ Damn all dissembling now, it is too late--
The Tyrant Love reigns absolute within,
And I am lost, _Aurelia_.

_Pet._ How, Love! forbid it Heaven! will Love maintain ye?

_La Nu._ Curse on your Maxims, will they ease my Heart? Can your wise
Counsel fetch me back my Rover?

_Pet._ Hah, your Rover, a Pox upon him.

_La Nu._ He's gone-- gone to the Arms of some gay generous Maid, who
nobly follows Love's diviner Dictates, whilst I 'gainst Nature studying
thy dull Precepts, and to be base and infamously rich, have barter'd all
the Joys of human Life-- Oh give me Love: I will be poor and love.

_Pet._ She's lost-- but hear me--

_La Nu._ I won't, from Childhood thou hast trained me up in Cunning,
read Lectures to me of the use of Man, but kept me from the knowledge of
the Right; taught me to jilt, to flatter and deceive: and hard it was to
learn th' ungrateful Lessons. But oh how soon plain Nature taught me
Love,