With
Indignation; and how near soever my Father thinks I am to marrying
that hated Object, I shall let him see I understand better what's due
to my beauty Birth and Fortune, and more to my Soul, than to obey
those unjust Commands. Hell. Now hang me, if I don't love thee for
that dear Disobedience. I love Mischief strangely, as most of our Sex
do, who are come to love nothing else- But tell me, dear Florinda,
don't you love that fine Anglese?- For I vow next to loving him my
self, 'twill please me most that you do so, for he is so gay and so
handsom. Flor. Hellena, a Maid design'd for a Nun ought not to be so
curious in a Discourse of Love. Hell. And dost thou think that ever
I'll be a Nun? Or at least till I'm so old, I'm fit for nothing else.
Faith no, Sister; and that which makes me long to know whether you
love Belvile, is because I hope he has some mad Companion or other,
that will spoil my Devotion; nay I'm resolv'd to provide my self this
Carnival, if there be e'er a handsom Fellow of my Humour above Ground,
tho I ask first. Flor. Prithee be not so wild. Hell. Now you have
provided your self with a Man, you take no Care for poor me- Prithee
tell me, what dost thou see about me that is unfit for Love- have not
I a world of Youth? a Humor gay? a Beauty passable? a Vigour
desirable? well shap'd? clean limb'd? sweet breath'd? and Sense enough
to know how all these ought to be employ'd to the best Advantage: yes,
I do and will.
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