Will. Still true to Love you see- La Nu. I heard an English Capuchin
swear, that if the King's Followers could be brought to pray as well
as fast, there would be more Saints among 'em than the Church has ever
canoniz'd. Will. All this with Pride I own, since 'tis a royal Cause I
suffer for; go pursue your Business your own way, insnare the Fool- I
saw the Toils you set, and how that Face was ordered for the Conquest,
your Eyes brimful of dying lying Love; and now and then a wishing
Glance or Sigh thrown as by chance; which when the happy Coxcomb
caught- you feign'd a Blush, as angry and asham'd of the Discovery:
and all this Cunning's for a little mercenary Gain- fine Clothes,
perhaps some Jewels too, whilst all the Finery cannot hide the Whore!
La Nu. There's your eternal Quarrel to our Sex, 'twere a fine Trade
indeed to keep a Shop and give your Ware for Love: would it turn to
account think ye, Captain, to trick and dress, to receive all wou'd
enter? faith, Captain, try the Trade. Pet. What in Discourse with this
Railer!- come away; Poverty's catching. [Returns from Discourse with
Feth. speaks to San. Will. So is the Pox, good Matron, of which you
can afford good Penniworths. La Nu. He charms me even with his angry
Looks, and will undo me yet. Pet. Let's leave this Place, I'll tell
you my Success as we go.
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