_Clar._ I tell you I did hear the noise of fighting.
_Dorm._ Why, between whom should it be? I'll be sworn _Marcel_ came in alone.
_Clar._ _Marcel_! and wounded too! oh I'm lost.
[Sees him, weeps.
_Mar._ Keep your false Tears to bathe your Lover's Wounds.
For I perhaps have given him some-- Thou old Assistant to her Lust, whose greatest Sin is wishing, tell me who 'twas thou didst procure for her.
[In rage to _Dormida_.
_Dorm._ Alas! I cannot imagine who it should be, unless Don _Silvio_, who has sometimes made Addresses to her: But oh the House is up, Madam, we are undone; let's fly for Heavens sake.
_Clar._ Oh _Marcel_, can you believe-- [A Noise.
_Dorm._ Come, come, I'll not be undone for your Fiddle-faddles; I'll lay it all on you, if I be taken.
[Pulls out _Clarinda_.
_Mar._ Sot that I was, I could not guess at this to day, by his Anger at the Letter I foolishly shew'd him; he is my Rival, and 'tis with him she's fled; and I'll endeavour to pursue them.
[Offers to go.
But oh my Strength complies with their Design, [Leaning on his Sword.] and shamefully retires to give them leave to play their amorous Game out.
[Goes faintly out.
SCENE V. _Changes to the Street. Discovers _Alonzo_ alone._
_Alon._ This Act of mine was rash and ill-natur'd, And I cannot leave the Street with a good Conscience, Till I know what mischief I have done.
Enter _Dormida_ and _Clarinda_.
Hah, Ladies from the same House! these are Birds that I have frighted from their Nests I am sure: I'll proffer my Service to them.
_Dorm._ Why do not you make more haste?
_Clar._ How can she go, whose Life is left behind?
Besides, I know not whither we should go.
Ye Powers that guard the Innocent, protect us.
_Alon._ These must be some whom I have injur'd.
Ladies-- you seem as in distress.
_Dorm._ Oh, Sir, as you are a Gentleman, assist a pair of Virgins.
_Alon._ What's this, a mumping Matron? I hope the other's young, or I have offer'd my Service to little purpose.
_Clar._ Sir, if you will have the Charity to assist us, Do it speedily, we shall be very grateful to you.
_Alon._ Madam, I will, but know not where to carry ye; my Lodging is in an Inn, and is neither safe nor honourable: but Fortune dares no less than protect the Fair, and I'll venture my Life in your Protection and Service.
[Exeunt.
Enter _Marcel_ faintly.
_Mar._ Stay, Traytor, stay-- oh they are out of sight, But may my Curse o'ertake them in their flight. [Exit.
SCENE VI. _Chamber of _Cleonte_._
She is discover'd in her Night-Gown, at a Table, as undressing, _Francisca_ by her.
_Cleo._ _Francisca_, thou art dull to Night. [Sighs.
_Fran._ You will not give me leave to talk.
_Cleo._ Not thy way indeed, hast thou no Stories but of Love, and of my Brother _Silvio_?
_Fran._ None that you wish to hear: But I'll do what you please, so you will not oblige me to sigh for you.
_Cleo._ Then prithee sing to me.
_Fran._ What Song, a merry, or a sad?
_Cleo._ Please thy own Humour, for then thou'lt sing best.
_Fran._ Well, Madam, I'll obey you, and please my self.
SINGS.
_Amyntas_ led me to a Grove, Where all the Trees did shade us; The Sun it self, tho it had strove, Yet could not have betrayed us.
The place secure from human Eyes, No other fear allows, But when the Winds that gently rise Do kiss the yielding Boughs.
Down there we sat upon the Moss, And did begin to play A thousand wanton Tricks, to pass The Heat of all the Day.
A many Kisses he did give, And I return'd the same: Which made me willing to receive That which I dare not name.
His charming Eyes no aid requir'd, To tell their amorous Tale; On her that was already fir'd, 'Twas easy to prevail.
He did but kiss, and clasp me round, Whilst they his thoughts exprest, And laid me gently on the Ground; Oh! --who can guess the rest?
_After the Song, enter _Silvio_ all undrest, gazing wildly on _Cleonte_; his Arm ty'd up._
_Cleo._ My Brother _Silvio_, at this late hour, and in my Lodgings too!
How do you, Sir? are you not well?
_Silv._ Oh, why did Nature give me being?
Or why create me Brother to _Cleonte_? [Aside.
Or give her Charms, and me the sense to adore 'em?
_Cleo._ Dear Brother-- [Goes to him.
_Silv._ Ah, _Cleonte_-- [Takes her by the Hand and gazes.
_Cleo._ What would you, Sir?