Isa. You possibly may see some Turkish Ladies, that may insnare your Heart, and make you faithless;—but I, ah Heavens! if ever I change my Love, may I become deformed, and lose all hopes of Title or of Grandure.
Guil. But should the Grand Seignior behold thy Beauty, thou wou’dst despise thine own dear hony Viscount to be a Sultana.
Isa. A Sultana, what’s that?
Guil. Why, ‘tis the great Turk, a Queen of Turkey.
Isa. These dear expressions go to my Heart. [Weeps. And yet a Sultana is a tempting thing— [Aside smiling. —And you shall find your Isabella true,—though the Grand Seignior wou’d lay his Crown at my feet,—wou’d he wou’d try me though—Heavens! to be Queen of Turkey. [Aside.
Guil. May I believe thee,—but when thou seest the difference, alas, I am but a Chimney—hum, nothing to a great Turk.
Isa. Is he so rare a thing?—Oh, that I were a she great Turk.
[Aside.
Guz. Come, come, we can’t attend your amorous Parleys. [Parts ‘em.
Jul. Alas, what shall we poor Women do?
[Ex. Men.