Oct. I do believe, and give thee back my Claim, I scorn the brutal part of Love; the noblest Body, where the Heart is wanting. [They all talk aside, Cornelia comes up to Galliard.
Cor. Why, how now, Cavalier, how like a discarded Favourite do you look now, who whilst your Authority lasted, laid about ye, domineer’d, huft and bluster’d, as if there had been no end on’t: now a Man may approach ye without terror—You see the Meat’s snatcht out of your Mouth, Sir, the Lady’s dispos’d on; whose Friends and Relations you were so well acquainted with.
Gal. Peace, Boy, I shall be angry else.—
Cor. Have you never a cast Mistress, that will take compassion on you: Faith, what think ye of the little Curtezan now?
Gal. As ill as e’er I did; what’s that to thee?
Cor. Much more than you’re aware on, Sir—and faith, to tell you Truth, I’m no Servant to Count Julio, but e’en a little mischievous Instrument she sent hither to prevent your making love to Donna Laura.
Gal. ‘Tis she herself.—how cou’d that Beauty hide itself so long from being known? [Aside.]—Malicious little Dog in a Manger, that wou’d neither eat, nor suffer the Hungry to feed themselves, what spiteful Devil cou’d move thee to treat a Lover thus? but I am pretty well reveng’d on ye.
Cor. On me!
Gal. You think I did not know those pretty Eyes, that lovely Mouth I have so often kist in cold imagination.
Cor. Softly, Tormentor. [They talk aside.