Fran. Oh, damn’d circumcised Turk.
Car. You shall be call’d the beautiful Sultana, And rule in my Seraglio drest with Jewels.
Fran. Sure, I shall burst with Vengeance.
Jul. Sir, let your Virtue regulate your Passions; For I can ne’er love any but my Husband.
Fran. Ah, dissembling Witch!
Jul. And wou’d not break my Marriage Vows to him, For all the honour you can heap upon me.
Fran. Say, and hold; but Sultana and precious Stones are damnable Temptations,—besides, the Rogue’s young and handsome,—What a scornful look she casts at me; wou’d they were both handsomely at the Devil together.
Guz. Dog, do you mutter?
Fran. Oh! nothing, nothing, but the Palsy shook my Lips a little.
Guz. Slave, go, and on your knees resign your Wife.