Ant. The best of those you think I should not name, dare hardly tell me this.
Isa. Good Lord, you think your self a very fine Fellow now, and finical your self up to be thought so; but there’s as much difference between a Citizen and a true bred Cavalier—
Ant. As between you and a true bred Woman of Honour.
Isa. Oh, Sir, you rail, and you may long enough, before you rail me out of my Opinion, whilst there are Dons with Coaches and fine Lackeys, and I have Youth and Beauty, with a Fortune able to merit one, so farewel, Cit. [Ex.
Ant. Farewel, proud Fool.
Jac. Sir, be this Evening at the Door, Donna Clara has something to say to you.
Ant. Bless thee for this Tidings, dear Jacinta.
[Ex. Jacinta.
—I find let Man be brave, or good, or wise,
His Virtue gains no Smiles from Woman’s Eyes;
‘Tis the gay Fool alone that takes the Heart,
Foppery and Finery still guide the Dart.
[Ex.