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Bell. Besides, to confess the truth, I cannot but think two years Absence has made as great an Alteration in her, as in me: Women are seldom behind hand with us, and two years was time enough for a Woman to have chang'd two dozen of Lovers.
Ang. And is this the best Answer she is to expert from you?
Bell. It is. Yet, if you please, you may give it some kinder turn: I would not deal too roughly with one whom I had once lov'd, and whose Beauty and Virtues I still adimre; therefore, pray, chuse the gentlest terms you can to comfort her, and advise her to forget one who cannot but confess he has been ungrateful.
Ang. And if 'tis possible, she shall hate as much as ever she lov'd you.
Bell. Not hate me: I would not have her hate me, only not love so much; and not injure her self by any extravagance of Passion, nor by any over-fondness be burthensome to me.
Enter Sir J. Aery and Vaunter.
Sir J. Aery. Ha, Bellamour! Give thee Joy, dear Rogue; give thee Joy. The Town says thou'rt going to be marry'd, 'tis talk'd of, Geddemme, by every body at the Chocolate-house.
Vaun. By all the great Geds, and the little, is the Man possest, to condemn himself for all the Days and Nights of his Life to one body; to be bound never to change her, tho' she change never so much, tho' she grows never so old, so odious, so stinking, and ill-favour'd, phogh, Geddemme, to live under an eternal Persecution?
Sir J. Aery. Let me be torn by wild Horses, wrack'd alive, bury'd quick; but save me, Heaven, save me from this Holy Inquisition, call'd Marriage, beged.
Ang. aside. These Fools for once may be useful; I'll encourage the humour.—Do not you know, Mr. Bellamour, that let the Person be never so lovely, or so much belov'd, as soon as she becomes your Wife; the Charm ends? Like enchanted Palaces that we approach with admiration, but in the instant when we think we are entring into Paradise, we find our selves in some dark Dungeon inhabited by Toads and Adders.
Sir J. Aery.
