'twas I.
The Devil has taught ye Tricks to bring your Falshood off.

_Aria._ Know 'twas you! no, Faith, I took you for as errant a right-down
Captain as ever Woman wisht for; and 'twas uncivil egad, to undeceive
me, I tell you that now.

Enter _Willmore_ and _La Nuche_ by dark.

_Will._ Thou art all Charms, a Heaven of Sweets all over, plump smooth
round Limbs, small rising Breasts, a Bosom soft and panting-- I long to
wound each Sense. Lights there-- who waits?-- there yet remains a
Pleasure unpossest, the sight of that dear Face-- Lights there-- where
are my Vermin?
[Ex. _Will._

_Aria._ My Captain with a Woman-- and is it so--

Enter _Will._ with Lights, sees _Aria_, and goes to her.

_Will._ By Heaven, a glorious Beauty! now a Blessing on thee for shewing
me so dear a Face-- Come, Child, let's retire and begin where we left
off.

_La Nu._ A Woman!

_Aria._ Where we left off! pray, where was that, good Captain?

_Will._ Within upon the Bed, Child-- come-- I'll show thee.

_Beau._ Hold, Sir.

_Will._ _Beaumond_! come fit to celebrate my Happiness; ah such a
Woman-friend!

_Beau._ Do ye know her?

_Will._ All o'er, to be the softest sweetest Creature--

_Beau._ I mean, do ye know who she is?

_Will._ Nor care; 'tis the last Question I ever ask a fine Woman.

_Beau._ And you are sure you are thus well acquainted.

_Will._ I cannot boast of much acquaintance-- but I have pluckt a Rose
from her Bosom-- or so-- and given it her again-- we've past the hour of
the Berjere together, that's all--

_Beau._ And do you know-- this Lady is my-- Wife?
[Draw.

_Will._ Hah! hum, hum, hum, hum--
[Turns and sings, sees _La Nuche_, and returns quick with an uneasy
Grimace.

_Beau._ Did you not hear me? Draw.

_Will._ Draw, Sir-- what on my Friend?

_Beau._ On your Cuckold, Sir, for so you've doubly made me: Draw,
or I'll kill thee--
[Passes at him, he fences with his Hat, _La Nu._ holds Beau.

_Will._ Hold, prithee hold.

_La Nu._ Put up your Sword, this Lady's innocent, at least in what
concerns this Evening's business; I own-- with Pride I own I am the
Woman that pleas'd so well to Night.

_Will._ _La Nuche_! kind Soul to bring me off with so handsom a lye: How
lucky 'twas she happen'd to be here!

_Beau._ False as thou art, why shou'd I credit thee?

_La Nu._ By Heaven, 'tis true, I will not lose the glory on't.

_Will._ Oh the dear perjur'd Creature, how I love th