[Goes out. La Nu. Now I
cou'd rave, t'have lost an opportunity which industry nor chance can
give again- when on the yielding point, a cursed fit of Pride comes
cross my Soul, and stops the kind Career- I'll follow him, yes I'll
follow him, even to the Arms of her to whom he's gone. Aur. Madam, tis
dark, and we may meet with Insolence. La Nu. No matter: Sancho, let
the Coach go home, and do you follow me- Women may boast their Honour
and their Pride, But Love soon lays those feebler Powr's aside.
[Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I. The Street, or Backside of the Piazza dark.
Enter Willmore alone. Will. A Pox upon this Woman that has jilted me,
and I for being a fond believing Puppy to be in earnest with so great
a Devil. Where be these Coxcombs too? this Blunt and Fetherfool? when
a Man needs 'em not, they are plaguing him with their unseasonable
Jests- could I but light on them, I would be very drunk to night- but
first I'll try my Fortune with this Woman- let me see- hereabouts is
the Door. [Gropes about for the Door. Enter Beaumond, follow'd by La
Nuche, and Sancho. La Nu. 'Tis he, I know it by his often and uneasy
pauses- Beau. And shall I home and sleep upon my injury, whilst this
more happy Rover takes my right away?- no, damn me then for a cold
senseless Coward. [Pauses and pulls out a Key.
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