Bel. Oh, I can towse, and ruffle, like any Leviathan, when I begin— Come, prove my Vigor. [Towses her.
Flaunt. Oh, Lord, Sir! You tumble all my Garniture.
Bel. There’s Gold to buy thee more—
Flaunt. Oh, sweet Sir—wou’d my Knight were hang’d, so I were well rid of him now—Well, Sir, I swear you are the most agreeable Person—
Bel. Am I?—let us be more familiar then—I’ll kiss thy Hand, thy Breast, thy Lips—and—
Flaunt. All—you please, Sir—
Bel. A tractable Sinner! [Offers to kiss her. Faugh—how she smells—had I approach’d so near divine Celinda, what A natural Fragrancy had sent it self through all my ravisht Senses! [Aside.
Flaunt. The Man’s extasy’d, sure, I shall take him. Come, Sir, you’re sad.
Bel. As Angels fall’n from the Divine Abode,
And now am lighted on a very Hell!
—But this is not the way to thrive in Wickedness;
I must rush on to Ruin—Come, fair Mistress,
Will you not shew me some of your Arts of Love?
For I am very apt to learn of Beauty—Gods—
What is’t I negotiate for?—a Woman!
Making a Bargain to possess a Woman!
Oh, never, never!
Flaunt. The Man is in love, that’s certain—as I was saying, Sir—