Blunt. Make haste then, for ’dsheartlikins, dear Soul, thou canst not guess at the pain of a longing Lover, when his Joys are drawn within the compass of a few minutes.
Luc. You speak my Sense, and I’ll make haste to provide it. [Exit.]
Blunt. ’Tis a rare Girl, and this one night’s enjoyment with her will be worth all the days I ever past in Essex.—Would she’d go with me into England, tho to say truth, there’s plenty of Whores there already.—But a pox on ’em they are such mercenary prodigal Whores, that they want such a one as this, that’s free and generous, to give ’em good Examples:—Why, what a House she has! how rich and fine!
Sancho. Sir, my Lady has sent me to conduct you to her Chamber.
Blunt. Sir, I shall be proud to follow—Here’s one of her Servants too: ’dsheartlikins, by his Garb and Gravity he might be a Justice of Peace in Essex, and is but a Pimp here. [Exeunt.
[ The Scene changes] to a Chamber with an Alcove-Bed in it, a Table, &c. Lucetta in Bed. Enter Sancho and Blunt, who takes the Candle of Sancho at the Door.
Sanch. Sir, my Commission reaches no farther.
Blunt. Sir, I’ll excuse your Complement:—what, in Bed, my sweet Mistress?
Luc. You see, I still out-do you in kindness.