Shift. He is, I came with him; he’s impatient of your Return: I’ll let him know you’re here. [Exit. Shift.
Feth. Why, what a Pox ails the Captain o’th’ sudden? He looks as sullenly as a routed General, or a Lover after hard Service.
Blunt. Oh—something the Lieutenant has told him about a Wench; and when Cupid’s in his Breeches, the Devil’s ever in’s Head—how now—What a pox is the matter with you, you look so scurvily now?—What, is the Gentlewoman otherwise provided? has she cashier’d ye for want of Pay? or what other dire Mischance?—hah—
Will. Do not trouble me—
Blunt. Adsheartlikins, but I will, and beat thee too, but I’ll know the Cause. I heard Shift tell thee something about La Nuche, a Damsel I have often heard thee Fool enough to sigh for.
Will. Confound the mercenary Jilt!
Blunt. Nay, adsheartlikins they are all so; tho I thought you had been Whore-proof; ’tis enough for us Fools, Country Gentlemen, Esquires, and Cullies, to miscarry in their amorous Adventures, you Men of Wit weather all Storms you.
Will. Oh, Sir, you’re become a new Man, wise and wary, and can no more be cozen’d.
Blunt. Not by Woman-kind; and for Man I think my Sword will secure me. Pox, I thought a two Months absence and a Siege would have put such Trifles out of thy Head: You do not use to be such a Miracle of Constancy.
Will. That Absence makes me think of her so much; and all the Passions thou find’st about me are to the Sex alone. Give me a Woman, Ned, a fine young amorous Wanton, who would allay this Fire that makes me rave thus, and thou shouldst find me no longer particular, [but cold] as Winter-Nights to this La Nuche: Yet since I lost my little charming Gipsey, nothing has gone so near my Heart as this.