This many-headed Beast your Lust has arm'd.

_Qu_. How dare you, Sir, upbraid me with my Love?

_Abd_. I will not answer thee, nor hear thee speak.

_Qu_. Not hear me speak!--Yes, and in Thunder too;
Since all my Passion, all my soft Intreaties
Can do no good upon thee,
I'll see (since thou hast banish'd all thy Love,
That Love, to which I've sacrific'd my Honour)
If thou hast any Sense of Gratitude,
For all the mighty Graces I have done thee.

_Abd_. Do;--and in thy Story too, do not leave out
How dear those mighty Graces I have purchas'd;
My blooming Youth, my healthful vigorous Youth,
Which Nature gave me for more noble Actions
Than to lie fawning at a Woman's Feet,
And pass my Hours in Idleness and Love--
If I cou'd blush, I shou'd thro all this Cloud
Send forth my Sense of Shame into my Cheeks.

_Qu_. Ingrate!
Have I for this abus'd the best of Men,
My noble Husband?
Depriving him of all the Joys of Love,
To bring them all intirely to thy Bed;
Neglected all my Vows, and sworn 'em here a-new,
Here, on thy Lips--