y Head. [Angrily.

_Beau._ Wou'd! by Heaven, thou hast-- he is not to be fool'd,
Or sooth'd into belief of distant Joys,
As easy as I have been: I've lost so kind
An Opportunity, where Night and Silence both
Conspire with Love, had made him rage like Waves
Blown up by Storms:-- no more-- I know he has
--Oh what, _La Nuche_! robb'd me of all that I
Have languish'd for--

_La Nu._ If it were so, you should not dare believe it--
[Angrily turns away, he kneels and holds her.

_Beau._ Forgive me; oh so very well I love,
Did I not know that thou hadst been a Whore,
I'd give thee the last proof of Love-- and marry thee.

_Will._ The last indeed-- for there's an end of Loving;
Do, marry him, and be curst by all his Family:
Marry him, and ruin him, that he may curse thee too.
--But hark ye, Friend, this is not fair; 'tis drawing Sharps on a Man
that's only arm'd with the defensive Cudgel, I'm for no such dead doing
Arguments; if thou art for me, Child, it must be without the folly, for
better for worse; there's a kind of Nonsense in that Vow Fools only
swallow.

_La Nu._ But when I've worn out all my Youth and Beauty, and suffer'd
every ill of Poverty, I shall be compell'd to begin the World again
without a Stock to set up with. No faith, I'm for a substantial Merchant
in Love, who can repay the loss of Time and Beauty; with whom to make
one thriving Voyage sets me up for ever, and I need never put to Sea
again.
[Comes to _Beau._

_Beau._ Nor be expos'd to Storms of Poverty, the _Indies_ shall come to
thee-- See here-- this is the Merchandize my Love affords.
[Gives her a Pearl, and Pendants of Diamond.

_La Nu._ Look ye, Sir, will not these Pearls do better round my Neck,
than those kind Arms of yours? these Pendants in my Ears, than all the
Tales of Love you can whisper there?

_Will._ So-- I am deceiv'd-- deal on for Trash-- and barter all thy Joys
of Life for Baubles-- this Night presents me one Adventure more-- I'll
try thee once again, inconstant Fortune; and if thou fail'st me then-- I
will forswear thee [Aside.] Death, hadst thou lov'd my Friend for his
own Value, I had esteem'd thee; but when his Youth and Beauty cou'd not
plead, to be the mercenary Conquest of his Presents, was poor, below thy
Wit: I cou'd have conquer'd so, but I scorn thee at that rate-- my Purse
shall never be my Pimp-- Farewel, _Harry_.

_Beau._ Thou'st sham'd me out of Folly-- stay--