Mar. But is’t not wondrous, that amongst all these Crouds we should not once see Fillamour? I thought the Charms of a fair young Curtezan might have oblig’d him to some Curiosity at least.
Cor. Ay! and an English Cavalier too, a Nation so fond of all new Faces.
Mar. Heaven, if I should never see him, and I frequent all publick Places to meet him! or if he be gone from Rome, if he have forgot me, or some other Beauty have employ’d his Thoughts!
Cor. Why; if all these if’s and or’s come to pass, we have no more to do than to advance in this same glorious Profession, of which now we only seem to be—in which, to give it its due, there are a thousand Satisfactions to be found, more than in a dull virtuous Life: Oh, the world of Dark-Lanthorn-Men we should have! the Serenades, the Songs, the Sighs, the Vows, the Presents, the Quarrels, and all for a Look or a Smile, which you have been hitherto so covetous of, that Petro swears our Lovers begin to suspect us for some honest Jilts; which by some is accounted much the leuder scandal of the two:—therefore I think, faith, we must e’en be kind a little to redeem our Reputations.
Mar. However we may railly, certainly there’s nothing so hard to Woman, as to expose her self to villainous Man.
Cor. Faith, Sister, if ‘twere but as easy to satisfy the nice scruples of Religion and Honour, I should find no great Difficulty in the rest— Besides, another Argument I have, our Mony’s all gone, and without a Miracle can hold out no longer honestly.
Mar. Then we must sell our Jewels.
Cor. When they are gone, what Jewel will you part with next?
Mar. Then we must—
Cor. What, go home to Viterbo, ask the old Gentleman pardon, and be receiv’d to Grace again, you to the Embraces of the amiable Octavio, and I to St. Teresa’s, to whistle through a Grate like a Bird in a Cage,—for I shall have little heart to sing.—But come, let’s leave This sad talk, here’s Men—let’s walk and gain new Conquest, I love it dearly— [Walk down the Garden.