The Town

The Town-Fop A monologue from the play by Aphra Behn Essay A monologue from the play by Aphra Behn NOTE: This monologue is reprinted from The Works of Aphra Behn, Vol. 3. Ed. Montague Summers. London: Heinemann, 1915. SIR TIMOTHY: I vow to Fortune, Ned, thou must come to London, and be a little managd: slife, Man, shouldst thou talk so aloud in good Company, thou wouldst be counted a strange Fellow. Prettyand drest with Love We will write a custom essay on The Town-Fop A monologue from the play by Aphra Behn specifically for you for only $16.38 $13.9/page Order now a find Figure, by Fortune: No, Ned, the painted Chariot gives a Lustre to every ordinary Face, and makes a Woman look like Quality; Ay, so like, by Fortune, that you shall not know one from tother, till some scandalous, out-of-favourd laid-aside Fellow of the Town, cry Damn her for a Bitchhow scornfully the Whore regards meShe has forgot since Jack such a one, and I, clubd for the keeping of her, when both our Stocks well managd woud not amount to above seven Shillings six Pence a week; besides now and then a Treat of a Breast of Mutton from the next Cooks. Then the other laughs, and crys Ay, rot her and tells his Story too, and concludes with, Who manages the Jilt now; Why, faith, some dismal Coxcomb or other, you may be sure, replies the first. But, Ned, these are Rogues, and Rascals, that value no Mans Reputation, because they despise their own. But faith, I have laid aside all these Vanities, now I have thought of Matrimony; but I desire my Reformation may be a Secret, because, as you know, for a Man of my Address, and the rest tis not altogether so Jantee.