Luc. Truly, Sir, a friendly Request- but in what Nature abus'd? Blunt.
Nature!- why any of your Tricks would serve- but if he could be
conveniently strip'd and beaten, or tost in a Blanket, or any such
trivial Business, thou wouldst do me a singular Kindness; as for
Robbery he defies the Devil: an empty Pocket is an Antidote against
that Ill. Luc. Your Money, Sir: and if he be not cozen'd, say a
Spanish Woman has neither Wit nor Invention upon Occasion. Blunt.
Sheartlikins, how I shall love and honour thee for't- here's earnest-
[Talks to her with Joy and Grimace. Aria. But who was that you
entertain'd at Church but now? Will. Faith, one, who for her Beauty
merits that glorious Title she wears, it was- a Whore, Child. Aria.
That's but a scurvy Name; yet, if I'm not mistaken, in those false
Eyes of yours, they look with longing Love upon that- Whore, Child.
Will. Thou are i'th' right, and by this hand, my Soul was full as
wishing as my eyes: but a Pox on't, you Women have all a certain
Jargon, or Gibberish, peculiar to your selves; of Value, Rate,
Present, Interest, Settlement, Advantage, Price, Maintenance, and the
Devil and all of Fopperies, which in plain Terms signify ready Money,
by way of Fine before Entrance; so that an honest well-meaning
Merchant of Love finds no Credit amongst ye, without his Bill of
Lading.
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