Hah, a Woman with him!
Will. Hum—what have we here? another Damsel?—she’s gay too, and seems young and handsom—sure one of these will fall to my share; no matter which, so I am sure of one.
La Nu. Who’s silent now? are you struck dumb with Guilt? thou shame to noble Love; thou scandal to all brave Debauchery, thou Fop of Fortune; thou slavish Heir to Estate and Wife, born rich and damn’d to Matrimony.
Will. Egad, a noble Wench—I am divided yet.
La Nu. Thou formal Ass disguis’d in generous Leudness, see—when the Vizor’s off, how sneakingly that empty form appears—Nay ’tis thy own—Make much on’t, marry with it, and be damn’d. [Offers to go.
Will. I hope she’ll beat him for suspecting her. [He holds her, she turns.
Aria. Hah—who the Devil can these be?
La Nu. What silly honest Fool did you mistake me for? what senseless modest thing? Death, am I grown so despicable? have I deserv’d no better from thy Love than to be taken for a virtuous Changeling?
Will. Egad, ’twas an Affront. [Aside.
La Nu. I’m glad I’ve found thee out to be an errant Coxcomb, one that esteems a Woman for being chaste forsooth! ’Sheart, I shall have thee call me pious shortly, a most—religious Matron!