Bel. I cannot frame my Tongue to so much Blasphemy, as ‘tis to say kind things to her—I’ll try my Heart though—Fair Lady—Damn her, she is not fair—nor sweet—nor good—nor—something I must say for a beginning. Come, Lady—dry your Eyes: This Man deserves not all the Tears you shed. —So—at last the Devil has got the better of me, And I am enter’d.
Flaunt. You see, Sir, how miserable we Women are that love you Men.
Bel. How, did you love him? Love him against his Will?
Flaunt. So it seems, Sir.
Bel. Oh, thou art wretched then indeed; no wonder if he hate thee— Does he not curse thee? Curse thee till thou art damn’d, as I do lost Diana. [Aside.
Flaunt. Curse me! He were not best in my hearing; Let him do what he will behind my Back. What ails the Gentleman?
Bel. Gods! what an odious thing mere Coupling is!
A thing which every sensual Animal
Can do as well as we—but prithee tell me,
Is there nought else between the nobler Creatures?
Flaunt. Not that I know of, Sir— Lord, he’s very silly, or very innocent, I hope he has his Maidenhead; if so, and rich too. Oh, what a booty were this for me! [Aside.
Bel. ‘Tis wondrous strange; Why was not I created like the rest, Wild, and insensible, to fancy all?
Flaunt. Come, Sir, you must learn to be gay, to sing, to dance, and talk of any thing, and fancy any thing that’s in your way too.