urted.

_Will._ Two hundred thousand Crowns! what Story's this?-- what
Trick?-- what Woman?-- ha.

_Ang._ How strange you make it! have you forgot the Creature you
entertain'd on the Piazza last night?

_Will._ Ha, my Gipsy worth two hundred thousand Crowns!-- oh how I long
to be with her-- pox, I knew she was of Quality.
[Aside.

_Ang._ False Man, I see my Ruin in thy Face.
How many vows you breath'd upon my Bosom,
Never to be unjust-- have you forgot so soon?

_Will._ Faith no, I was just coming to repeat 'em-- but here's a Humour
indeed-- would make a Man a Saint-- Wou'd she'd be angry enough to leave
me, and command me not to wait on her.
[Aside.

Enter _Hellena_, drest in Man's Clothes.

_Hell._ This must be _Angelica_, I know it by her mumping Matron
here-- Ay, ay,'tis she: my mad Captain's with her too, for all his
swearing-- how this unconstant Humour makes me love him:-- pray, good
grave Gentlewoman, is not this _Angelica_?

_Moret._ My too young Sir, it is-- I hope 'tis one from Don _Antonio_.
[Goes to _Angelica_.

_Hell._ Well, something I'll do to vex him for this. [Aside.

_Ang._ I will not speak with him; am I in humour to receive a Lover?

_Will._ Not speak with him! why I'll be gone-- and wait your idler
minutes-- Can I shew less Obedience to the thing I love so fondly?
[Offers to go.

_Ang._ A fine Excuse this-- stay--

_Will._ And hinder your Advantage: should I repay your Bounties so
ungratefully?

_Ang._ Come hither, Boy,-- that I may let you see
How much above the Advantages you name
I prize one Minute's Joy with you.

_Will._ Oh, you destroy me with this Endearment.
[Impatient to be gone.

--Death, how shall I get away?-- Madam,'twill not be fit I should be
seen with you-- besides, it will not be convenient-- and I've a Friend--
that's dangerously sick.

_Ang._ I see you're impatient-- yet you shall stay.

_Will._ And miss my Assignation with my Gipsy.
[Aside, and walks about impatiently.

_Hell._ Madam,
[_Moretta_ brings _Hellena_, who addresses her self to _Angelica_.
You'l hardly pardon my Intrusion,
When you shall know my Business;
And I'm too young to tell my Tale with Art:
But there must be a wondrous store of Goodness
Where so much Beauty dwells.

_Ang._ A pretty Advocate, whoever sent thee,
--Prithee proceed-- Nay, Sir, you shall not go.
[To _Will._ who is stealing off.

_Will._ Then shall I lose m