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Oh Lord!

I am got out at last, and (which is a Miracle) without a Clue鈥攁nd now to Damning and Cursing,鈥攂ut if that would ease me, where shall I begin? with my Fortune, my self, or the Quean that cozen鈥檇 me鈥擶hat a dog was I to believe in Women! Oh Coxcomb鈥攊gnorant conceited Coxcomb! to fancy she cou鈥檇 be enamour鈥檇 with my Person, at the first sight enamour鈥檇鈥擮h, I鈥檓 a cursed Puppy, 鈥檛is plain, Fool was writ upon my Forehead, she perceiv鈥檇 it,鈥攕aw the Essex Calf there鈥攆or what Allurements could there be in this Countenance? which I can indure, because I鈥檓 acquainted with it鈥擮h, dull silly Dog! to be thus sooth鈥檇 into a Cozening! Had I been drunk, I might fondly have credited the young Quean! but as I was in my right Wits, to be thus cheated, confirms I am a dull believing English Country Fop.鈥擝ut my Comrades! Death and the Devil, there鈥檚 the worst of all鈥攖hen a Ballad will be sung to Morrow on the Prado, to a lousy Tune of the enchanted Squire, and the annihilated Damsel鈥擝ut Fred, that Rogue, and the Colonel, will abuse me beyond all Christian patience鈥攈ad she left me my Clothes, I have a Bill of Exchange at home wou鈥檇 have sav鈥檇 my Credit鈥攂ut now all hope is taken from me鈥擶ell, I鈥檒l home (if I can find the way) with this Consolation, that I am not the first kind believing Coxcomb; but there are, Gallants, many such good Natures amongst ye.

And tho you鈥檝e better Arts to hide your Follies,

Adsheartlikins y鈥檃re all as errant Cullies.

Behn, Aphra. The Rover.

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