Will. Thou art all Charms, a Heaven of Sweets all over, plump smooth round Limbs, small rising Breasts, a Bosom soft and panting—I long to wound each Sense. Lights there—who waits?—there yet remains a Pleasure unpossest, the sight of that dear Face—Lights there—where are my Vermin? [Ex. Will.
Aria. My Captain with a Woman—and is it so—
Enter Will. with Lights, sees Aria, and goes to her.
Will. By Heaven, a glorious Beauty! now a Blessing on thee for shewing me so dear a Face—Come, Child, let’s retire and begin where we left off.
La Nu. A Woman!
Aria. Where we left off! pray, where was that, good Captain?
Will. Within upon the Bed, Child—come—I’ll show thee.
Beau. Hold, Sir.
Will. Beaumond! come fit to celebrate my Happiness; ah such a Woman-friend!
Beau. Do ye know her?