FLORINDA.

So! Sir, I see you're not afraid of a Woman; or do you come to be troublesome? I thought I had warn'd you from this Place.

MARCELLUS.

I came—

FLORINDA.

Aye, I see you came; but for what?

MARCELLUS.

Why &lblank;

FLORINDA.

Nay, come I know what you wou'd say now: You had forgot this was the Place, or you came to gather Simples, or to read under the Shade of these Trees, or to fish, or to shoot, or to swim, or to walk, or to—

MARCELLUS.

Do any Thing but meet an impertinent Woman. Death! What a Coxcomb was I?—I cou'd expect no better.

FLORINDA.

Come what signifies Dissembling? You're in Love, 'tis plain, and come to see if you cou'd have Courage enough to tell me so.

MARCELLUS.

So!—But since I have brought it upon myself, I must bear it out as well as I can. (Aside.)—Well then, to shew you how much you are mistaken, I came to rail.

FLORINDA.

Dear Sir, begin then; Scandal, you know, is the most agreeable Thing to a Woman.—Well, if you did but know all my Acquaintance, that we might take 'em to pieces one after another, what a pleasant Creature you'd be!—But come, begin with whom you please.

MARCELLUS.

You mistake me still; I do not delight in Scandal; speaking Truth is all I pretend to.

FLORINDA.

Oh Child! Scandal of one's Acquaintance is always

true you know.—Well come, say something, or I protest I must leave you.

MARCELLUS.

The only Thing I cou'd wish.—I am determin'd therefore to be silent.

FLORINDA.

Then I shall have all the Talk to myself, and that will be still a Pleasure. Well, see how People may be mistaken; you have been represented to me as a meer Brute, but I protest, I think you the most agreeable Creature alive.

MARCELLUS.

Will neither talking, nor Silence rid me of your Company?

FLORINDA.

Rid you of my Company?—Well, you are pleas'd to put on your little diverting Humours;—but, pray, how come you to seek me?

MARCELLUS.

Why in short, I came out of pure Compassion, to tell you some few of your Faults; and first, that I think you the most impertinent of your whole Sex; that now you're young, you're fit to be seduc'd by the Flesh, and when you grow old, your Malice and Ill-nature will prepare you to be led away by the Devil.

FLORINDA.

Believe me, Sir, you'd make an excellent Monk; what Pity 'tis such Talents shou'd be lost to the World! I protest if I had any Interest at Court, I'd put in for the next vacant Priory for you.

MARCELLUS.

I'm afraid, Madam, I'm not qualified for the Office, for I shou'd hardly be Master enough of my Temper to talk calmly to a Set of impertinent Women, that pass

all their Time at Church in regulating their own Dress, censuring that of others, and practising Curtesies and Compliments against the next Ball-Night.

FLORINDA.

Oh! I warrant you, your Complaisance for the Ladies would soon make you overlook these fashionable Faults;—besides, we should have you in Love soon, and then you'd be as tame, and obliging, as a Poet behind the Scenes while his Play's rehearsing.

MARCELLUS.

I'd hang or drown myself sooner, than be guilty of so much Folly.

FLORINDA.

Why that wou'd be the most agreeable Thing you cou'd do; What a Theme wou'd there be for the Wits to talk of! We shou'd have dismal Ditties, with terrible new Tunes, sung up and down, on the Triumphs of Love, or the Downfal of a Philosopher.

MARCELLUS.

Even that would be more tolerable, than Womens Impertinence.

FLORINDA.

I see no Room for Hope yet; I have one Reserve, I'll try that upon him, and if it fail, 'twill then be time enough to despair. (Aside.) But are you really that Woman-hater, you pretend to be?

MARCELLUS.

What have you seen in my Behaviour, that might give you Reason to doubt it?

FLORINDA.

What if I shou'd be in Love with you then, must I despair?

MARCELLUS.

Oh! cou'd I but see that;—I might hope some Revenge for your Impertinence.

FLORINDA.

Heigh ho! I fear you have your Wish.

MARCELLUS.

Hey day! a new Tun of Folly a-broach: I see I must be obliged to leave you in my own Defence.

FLORINDA.

Unhappy Florinda! how well is all thy past Indifference repaid by him, who only cou'd inspire thee with a Tenderness unfelt before!

MARCELLUS.

Farewel.—Yet stay, if she shou'd be sincere, I shou'd, methinks, be the happiest of Mankind:—But she's still—a Woman;—I'd best retire in time, for I am but—a Man, and cannot be always Master of my Passions.—'Tis resolv'd.

FLORINDA.

I like that Uncertainty,—it promises well; I'll push it further:—But see, he's going, I must be speedy. [Aside.] Can you then leave me? cruel Marcellus!

MARCELLUS.

By Heaven, I'd not stay a Moment longer to purchase the rich Treasures of the Indies.

FLORINDA.

Then go; and if it be possible for-ever. Ungrateful Man! is this the Return for all my proffer'd Love? is it so poor to be thrown back with so much Disregard? Believe me, whatever I appear, I'm not beneath you, or in Birth, or Fortunes. Still cold!—Oh! I cou'd grow mad, and curse thee:—But why do I talk thus?—I soon shall know an end of all my Sorrows; the friendly

Hand of Death spreads quick o'er all my Senses, and I shall soon be—nothing.

MARCELLUS.

Confusion! how she melts me! If I stay longer, I shall confess myself a Coxcomb; I'll try if I have Resolution enough to leave her.

FLORINDA.

Not yet; once more. [Aside.] Stay Marcellus, and take one last Farewel; yet now it needs not, for all is done; and—Oh!

MARCELLUS running to her.

Death and Tortures! What has my Folly done—This can be no Counterfeit; she's gone, for-ever gone.—Stay Fair-one, and take me with thee;—for I feel something at my Heart that pants, and tells me I can ne'er survive thee.

FLORINDA seeming to revive.

Why hast thou wak'd me from the welcome Death?— Ungenerous Man! too well I know, you but recall'd me to torment me more.

MARCELLUS.

No, by Heaven; Live, live thou Angel, and all my future Life shall pass in pleasing thee.

FLORINDA.

So, this is some Encouragement however. [Aside.] Is it possible? and can you love me?

MARCLLUS.

Oh for-ever: No anxious Miser ever doated more upon his hoarded Treasures: No pious Saint e'er pray'd to Heaven with half that Earnestness, I'll worship thee with.

FLORINDA starting up.

Ha! ha! ha! I'm very glad ro hear it I'll assure you; It seems a Philosopher can be in Love then.

MARCELLUS.

Damnation! have you fool'd me?

FLORINDA.

Why thou conceited Coxcomb, thou Compound of Pride, ill Nature, and Affectation; what Charms in thy Mind, or Person cou'd furnish thee with the Vanity to think I was in earnest?

MARCELLUS.

I always thought, and now am satisfied, that you are like all your damn'd deluding Sex;—a Devil:—Farewel.

FLORINDA.

Hark'ye, Lover of mine, methinks I wou'd fain have thee damn thyself a little farther—and do one Thing before you quite forsake me.

MARCELLUS.

What is it? Speak this Moment, or I'm gone for-ever: What must I do?

FLORINDA.

Only swear you hate me.

MARCELLUS.

With all my Heart; I hate your Sex, and thee above the rest. Farewel.