Will. Ah, what a charming Sound that mighty
Word bears! Beau. Damn her, she'll be thine or any body's. Will. I die
for her- Beau. Then for her Qualities- Will. No more-ye Gods, I ask no
more, Be she but fair and much a Whore- Come let's to her. Beau.
Perhaps to morrow you may see this Woman. Will. Death, 'tis an Age.
Feth. Oh, Captain, the strangest News, Captain. Will. Prithee what?
Feth. Why, Lieutenant Shift here tells us of two Monsters arriv'd from
Mexico, Jews of vast Fortunes, with an old Jew Uncle their Guardian;
they are worth a hundred thousand Pounds a piece- Marcy upon's, why,
'tis a Sum able to purchase all Flanders again from his most christian
Majesty. Will. Ha, ha, ha, Monsters! Beau. He tells you Truth,
Willmore. Blunt. But hark ye, Lieutenant, are you sure they are not
married? Beau. Who the Devil would venture on such formidable Ladies?
Feth. How, venture on 'em! by the Lord Harry, and that would I, tho
I'm a Justice of the Peace, and they be Jews, (which to a Christian is
a thousand Reasons.) Blunt. Is the Devil in you to declare our
Designs? [Aside. Feth. Mum, as close as a Jesuit. Beau. I admire your
Courage, Sir, but one of them is so little, and so deform'd, 'tis
thought she is not capable of Marriage; and the other is so huge an
overgrown Giant, no Man dares venture on her.
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