-Street.
But now for Angelica, that's her name: we'll to the prince's
chocolate-house, where you shall write my passport. _Allons._
[_Exeunt._

SCENE II.

LADY LUREWELL'S _Lodgings_.

_Enter_ LADY LUREWELL, _and her Maid_ PARLY.

_Lady L._ Parly, my pocket-book--let me see--Madrid, Paris, Venice,
London!--Ay, London! They may talk what they will of the hot countries,
but I find love most fruitful under this climate----In a month's space
have I gained--let me see, imprimis, Colonel Standard.

_Parly._ And how will your ladyship manage him?

_Lady L._ As all soldiers should be managed; he shall serve me till I
gain my ends, then I'll disband him.

_Parly._ But he loves you, madam.

_Lady L._ Therefore I scorn him;
I hate all that don't love me, and slight all that do;
'Would his whole deluding sex admir'd me,
Thus would I slight them all.
My virgin and unwary innocence
Was wrong'd by faithless man;
But now, glance eyes, plot brain, dissemble face,
Lie tongue, and
Plague the treacherous kind.----
Let me survey my captives.----
The colonel leads the van; next, Mr. Vizard,
He courts me out of the "Practice of Piety,"
Therefore is a hypocrite;
Then Clincher, he adores me with orangerie,
And is consequently a fool;
Then my old merchant, Alderman Smuggler,
He's a compound of both;--out of which medley of lovers, if I don't make
good diversion----What d'ye think, Parly?

_Parly._ I think, madam, I'm like to be very virtuous in your service,
if you teach me all those tricks that you use to your lovers.

_Lady L._ You're a fool, child; observe this, that though a woman swear,
forswear, lie, dissemble, backbite, be proud, vain, malicious, any
thing, if she secures the main chance, she's still virtuous; that's a
maxim.

_Parly._ I can't be persuaded, though, madam, but that you really loved
Sir Harry Wildair in Paris.

_Lady L._ Of all the lovers I ever had, he was my greatest plague, for I
could never make him uneasy: I left him involved in a duel upon my
account: I long to know whether the fop be killed or not.

_Enter_ COLONEL STANDARD.

Oh lord! no sooner talk of killing, but the soldier is conjured up.
You're upon hard duty, colonel, to serve your king, your country, and a
mistress too.

_Colonel S._ The latter, I must confess, is the hardest; for in war,
madam, we can be relieved in our duty; but in love,