Flo. Was't not enough for him t' enjoy his pleasure,
But he must jeer you too?
Car. As if you were
A stale to his light dalliance!
Pal. Or a scorn to his embraces!
Was her servile beauty,
Expos'd to sale, dishonour of her sex,
To be compar'd to yours?
Sal. Whose native splendour,
Without the help of art, which makes complexion
By borrow'd colours much unlike itself:
May challenge a prerogative i' th' rank
Of our completest features.
Mor.It seems strange,
How you could brook th' affront without revenge
On that insulting prostitute.
Til.No doubt
She would take hold of opportunity
By th' foretop, and repair her pressing wrongs
By private satisfactions; which works best,
When their revenge seems sleeping and at rest.
This lady would not rate her worth so small,
As to forego both use and principal.
2d Boy. No, reverend favourite, you will find this madam Spitfire of a keener metal than so. She's right tinder: no sooner touch than take.
[Aside.
Flo. Ladies, we've heard your different complaints,
Forcing our just compassion and resolves
To tender your condition, and redress.
What may the purport be of your petition,
Relating to your grievances?
All-Ladies. A freedom
From our disrelish'd beds.