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but with a Courtezan-- some Comfort that. We'll after him-- 'Tis a faint-hearted Lover, Who for the first Discouragement gives over. [Ex. _Ariadne_ and _Lucia_. ACT II. SCENE I. _The Street._ Enter _Fetherfool_ and _Sancho_, passing over the Stage; after them _Willmore_ and _Blunt_, follow'd by _Ariadne_ and _Lucia_. _Will._ 'Tis so, by Heaven, he's chaffering with her Pimp. I'll spare my Curses on him for having her, he has a Plague beyond 'em. --Harkye, I'll never love, nor lie with Women more, those Slaves to Lust, to Vanity and Interest. _Blunt._ Ha, Captain! [Shaking his Head and smiling. _Will._ Come, let's go drink Damnation to 'em all. _Blunt._ Not all, good Captain. _Will._ All, for I hate 'em all-- _Aria._ Heavens! if he should indeed! [Aside. _Blunt._ But, _Robert_, I have found you most inclined to a Damsel when you had a Bottle in your Head. _Will._ Give me thy Hand, _Ned_-- Curse me, despise me, point me out for Cowardice if e'er thou see'st me court a Woman more: Nay, when thou knowest I ask any of the Sex a civil Question again-- a Plague upon 'em, how they've handled me-- come, let's go drink, I say-- Confusion to the Race-- A Woman!-- no, I will be burnt with my own Fire to Cinders e'er any of the Brood shall lay my Flame-- _Aria._ He cannot be so wicked to keep this Resolution sure-- [She passes by. Faith, I must be resolv'd-- you've made a pious Resolution, Sir, had you the Grace to keep it-- [Passing on he pauses, and looks on her. _Will._ Hum-- What's that? _Blunt._ That-- O-- nothing-- but a Woman-- come away. _Will._ A Woman! Damn her, what Mischief made her cross my way just on the Point of Reformation! _Blunt._ I find the Devil will not lose so hopeful a Sinner. Hold, hold, Captain, have you no Regard to your own Soul? 'dsheartlikins, 'tis a Woman, a very errant Woman. _Aria._ Your Friend informs you right, Sir, I am a Woman. _Will._ Ay, Child, or I were a lost Man-- therefore, dear lovely Creature-- _Aria._ How can you tell, Sir? _Will._ Oh, I have naturally a large Faith, Child, and thou'st a promising Form, a tempting Motion, clean Limbs, well drest, and a most damnable inviting Air. _Aria._ I am not to be sold, nor fond of Praise I merit not. _Will._ How, not to be sold too! By this light, Child, thou speakest like a Cherubim, I have not heard so obliging a Sound from the Mouth of Woman-kind this many
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