Will. Besides Cashiering, a third Plague. La
Nu. Still unconcern'd!- you call me mercenary, but I would starve e'er
suffer my self to be possest by a thing of Horror. Will. You lye, you
would by any thing of Horror: yet these things of Horror have Beauties
too, Beauties thou canst not boast of, Beauties that will not fade;
Diamonds to supply the lustre of their Eyes, and Gold the brightness
of their Hair, a well-got Million to atone for Shape, and Orient
Pearls, more white, more plump and smooth, than that fair Body Men so
languish for, and thou hast set such Price on. Aria. I like not this
so well, 'tis a trick to make her jealous. Will. Their Hands too have
their Beauties, whose very mark finds credit and respect, their Bills
are current o'er the Universe; besides these, you shall see waiting at
my Door, four Footmen, a Velvet Coach, with Six Flanders Beauties
more: And are not these most comely Virtues in a Soldier's Wife, in
this most wicked peaceable Age? Luc. He's poor too, there's another
comfort. [Aside. Aria. The most incouraging one I have met with yet.
Will. Pox on't, I grow weary of this virtuous Poverty. There goes a
gallant Fellow, says one, but gives him not an Onion; the Women too,
faith, 'tis a handsom Gentleman, but the Devil a Kiss he gets gratis.
Aria. Oh, how I long to undeceive him of that Error.
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