Enter Willmore, Angelica, and Moretta. Ang. Insolent Sir, how durst
   you pull down my Picture? Will. Rather, how durst you set it up, to
   tempt poor amorous Mortals with so much Excellence? which I find you
   have but too well consulted by the unmerciful price you set upon't.-
   Is all this Heaven of Beauty shewn to move Despair in those that
   cannot buy? and can you think the effects of that Despair shou'd be
   less extravagant than I have shewn? Ang. I sent for you to ask my
   Pardon, Sir, not to aggravate your Crime.- I thought, I shou'd have
   seen you at my Feet imploring it. Will. You are deceived, I came to
   rail at you, and talk such Truths, too, as shall let you see the
   Vanity of that Pride, which taught you how to set such a Price on Sin.
   For such it is, whilst that which is Love's due is meanly barter'd
   for. Ang. Ha, ha, ha, alas, good Captain, what pity 'tis your edifying
   Doctrine will do too good upon me- Moretta, fetch the Gentleman a
   Glass, and let him survey himself, to see what Charms he has,- and
   guess my Business. [Aside in a soft tone. Moret. He knows himself of
   old, I believe those Breeches and he have been acquainted ever since
   he was beaten at Worcester. Ang. Nay, do not abuse the poor Creature.-
   Moret. Good Weather-beaten Corporal, will you march off? we have no
   need of your Doctrine, tho you have of our Charity; but at present we
   have no Scraps, we can afford no kindness for God's sake; in fine,
   Sirrah, the Price is too high i'th' Mouth for you, therefore troop, I
   say. Will. Here, good Fore-Woman of the Shop, serve me, and I'll be
   gone. Moret. Keep it to pay your Landress, your Linen stinks of the
   Gun-Room; for here's no selling by Retail. Will. Thou hast sold plenty
   of thy stale Ware at a cheap Rate. Moret. Ay, the more silly kind
   Heart I, but this is at an Age wherein Beauty is at higher Rates.- In
   fine, you know the price of this. Will. I grant you 'tis here set down
   a thousand Crowns a Month- Baud, take your black Lead and sum it up,
   that I may have a Pistole-worth of these vain gay things, and I'll
   trouble you no more. Moret. Pox on him, he'll fret me to Death:-
   abominable Fellow, I tell thee, we only sell by the whole Piece. Will.
   'Tis very hard, the whole Cargo or nothing- Faith, Madam, my Stock
   will not reach it, I cannot be your Chapman.- Yet I have Countrymen in
   Town, Merchants of Love, like me; I'll see if they'l put for a share,
   we cannot lose much by it, and what we have no use for, we'll sell
   upon the Friday's Mart, at- Who gives more? I am studying, Madam, how
   to purchase you, tho at present I am unprovided of Money. Ang. Sure,
   this from any other Man would anger me- nor shall he know the Conquest
   he has made- Poor angry Man, how I despise this railing. Will. Yes, I
   am poor- but I'm a Gentleman, And one that scorns this Baseness which
   you practise. Poor as I am, I would not sell my self, No, not to gain
   your charming high-priz'd Person. Tho I admire you strangely for your
   Beauty, Yet I contemn your Mind. -And yet I wou'd at any rate enjoy
   you; At your own rate- but cannot- See here The only Sum I can command
   on Earth; I know not where to eat when this is gone: Yet such a Slave
   I am to Love and Beauty, This last reserve I'll sacrifice to enjoy
   you. -Nay, do not frown, I know you are to be bought, And wou'd be
   bought by me, by me, For a mean trifling Sum, if I could pay it down.
   Which happy knowledge I will still repeat, And lay it to my Heart, it
   has a Virtue in't, And soon will cure those Wounds your Eyes have
   made. -And yet- there's something so divinely powerful there- Nay, I
   will gaze- to let you see my Strength. [Holds her, looks on her, and
   pauses and sighs. By Heaven, bright Creature- I would not for the
   World Thy Fame were half so fair as is thy Face. [Turns her away from
   him. Ang. His word go thro me to the very Soul. [Aside. -If you have
   nothing else to say to me. Will. Yes, you shall hear how infamous you
   are- For which I do not hate thee: But that secures my Heart, and all
   the Flames it feels Are but so many Lusts, I know it by their sudden
   bold intrusion. The Fire's impatient and betrays, 'tis false- For had
   it been the purer Flame of Love, I should have pin'd and languish'd at
   your Feet, E'er found the Impudence to have discover'd it. I now dare
   stand your Scorn, and your Denial. Moret. Sure she's bewitcht, that
   she can stand thus tamely, and hear his saucy railing.- Sirrah, will
   you be gone? Ang. How dare you take this liberty?- Withdraw. [To Moret
   -Pray, tell me, Sir, are not you guilty of the same mercenary Crime?
   When a Lady is proposed to you for a Wife, you never ask, how fair,
   discreet, or virtuous she is; but what's her Fortune- which if but
   small, you cry- She will not do my business- and basely leave her, tho
   she languish for you.- Say, is not this as poor? Will. It is a
   barbarous Custom, which I will scorn to defend in our Sex, and do
   despise in yours. Ang. Thou art a brave Fellow! put up thy Gold, and
   know, That were thy Fortune large, as is thy Soul, Thou shouldst not
   buy my Love, Couldst thou forget those mean Effects of Vanity, Which
   set me out to sale; and as a Lover, prize My yielding Joys. Canst thou
   believe they'l be entirely thine, Without considering they were
   mercenary? Will. I cannot tell, I must bethink me first- ha, Death,
   I'm going to believe her. [Aside. Ang. Prithee, confirm that Faith- or
   if thou canst not - flatter me a little, 'twill please me from thy
   Mouth. Will. Curse on thy charming Tongue! dost thou return My feign'd
   Contempt with so much subtilty? [Aside. Thou'st found the easiest way
   into my Heart, Tho I yet know that all thou say'st is false. [Turning
   from her in a Rage. Ang. By all that's good 'tis real, I never lov'd
   before, tho oft a Mistress. -Shall my first Vows be slighted? Will.
   What can she mean? [Aside. Ang. I find you cannot credit me. [In an
   angry tone. Will. I know you take me for an errant Ass, An Ass that
   may be sooth'd into Belief, And then be us'd at pleasure. -But, Madam
   I have been so often cheated By perjur'd, soft, deluding Hypocrites,
   That I've no Faith left for the cozening Sex, Especially for Women of
   your Trade. Ang. The low esteem you have of me, perhaps May bring my
   Heart again: For I have Pride that yet surmounts my Love. [She turns
   with Pride, he holds her. Will. Throw off this Pride, this Enemy to
   Bliss, And shew the Power of Love: 'tis with those Arms I call be only
   vanquisht, made a Slave. Ang. Is all my mighty Expectation vanisht?
   -No, I will not hear thee talk,- thou hast a Charm In every word, that
   draws my Heart away. And all the thousand Trophies I design'd, Thou
   hast undone- Why art thou soft? Thy Looks are bravely rough, and meant
   for War. Could thou not storm on still? I then perhaps had been as
   free as thou. Will. Death! how she throws her Fire about my Soul!
   [Aside. -Take heed, fair Creature, how you raise my Hopes, Which once