[Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. The
Long Street. Enter Belvile and Frederick in Masquing-Habits, and
Willmore in his own Clothes, with a Vizard in his Hand. Will. But why
thus disguis'd and muzzl'd? Belv. Because whatever Extravagances we
commit in these Faces, our own may not be oblig'd to answer 'em. Will.
I should have chang'd my Eternal Buff too: but no matter, my little
Gipsy wou'd not have found me out then: for if she should change hers,
it is impossible I should know her, unless I should hear her prattle-
A Pox on't, I cannot get her out of my Head: Pray Heaven, if ever I do
see her again, she prove damnable ugly, that I may fortify my self
against her Tongue. Belv. Have a care of Love, for o' my conscience
she was not of a Quality to give thee any hopes. Will. Pox on 'em, why
do they draw a Man in then? She has play'd with my Heart so, that
'twill never lie still till I have met with some kind Wench, that will
play the Game out with me- Oh for my Arms full of soft, white, kind-
Woman! such as I fancy Angelica. Belv. This is her House, if you were
but in stock to get admittance; they have not din'd yet; I perceive
the Picture is not out. Enter Blunt. Will. I long to see the Shadow of
the fair Substance, a Man may gaze on that for nothing. Blunt.
Colonel, thy Hand- and thine, Fred.
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