La Nu. At whose Suit, pray?
Aria. At Love’s—you have stol’n a Heart of mine, and us’d it scurvily.
La Nu. By what marks do you know the Toy, that I may be no longer troubled with it?
Aria. By a fresh Wound, which toucht by her that gave it bleeds anew, a Heart all over kind and amorous.
La Nu. When was this pretty Robbery committed?
Ana. To day, most sacrilegiously, at Church, where you debauch’d my Zeal; and when I wou’d have pray’d, your Eyes had put the Change upon my Tongue, and made it utter Railings: Heav’n forgive ye!
La Nu. You are the gayest thing without a Heart, I ever saw.
Aria. I scorn to flinch for a bare Wound or two; nor is he routed that has lost the day, [he may again rally], renew the Fight, and vanquish.
La Nu. You have a good opinion of that Beauty, which I find not so forcible, nor that fond Prattle uttered with such Confidence.
Aria. But I have Quality and Fortune too.