_Hip._ I am a Stranger and a Gentleman, And have an humble Suit to you.
_Alon._ You may command me any thing.
_Hip._ Sir, there is a Gentleman, if I may call him so, that dares do ill; has put a base Affront upon a Lady-- a Lady whom all brave Men are bound to vindicate: I've writ him here a Challenge, and only beg you'll give it him; I will attend you in St. _Peter's_ Grove, where I desire the perfidious _Antonio_ (for that's his Name, to whom this is directed) to meet me.
_Alon._ I'm pleas'd to see this Gallantry in a Man so young, and will serve you in this, or whatever else you shall command. But where is this _Antonio_?
_Hip._ That I'll inquire of these. Sir, pray can you give any account of the Cavalier [To _Haunce_, who starts as afraid.] you fought with this Morning in St. _Peter's_ Grove, that had a Lady with him?
_Hau._ So, now perhaps I shall be hang'd for that. [Aside.
I fight, Sir! I never fought in my Life, nor saw no Man, not I.
_Gload._ 'Sha, you may confess it, Sir; there's no Law against killing in _Spain_.
_Hip._ How, have you murder'd him? [Takes hold of him.
_Hau._ This Rogue has a mind to have me dispatch'd. [Aside.
Hold, Sir, the Man's as well and alive as you are, and is now at my Lodgings: look ye, here's the Dagger I disarm'd him of-- but that I do not love to boast.
[Shews it.
_Hip._ It is the same.
_Alon._ Sir, I shall not fail to wait on you with the Answer I receive.
_Hip._ I humbly thank you, Sir.
_Alon._ So prithee, dear _Lovis_, go make my excuse to your Sister for a moment, and let her get all things ready against I come; let the Priest too wait, for I see my Destiny, which I can no longer prevent, draws on apace.
[Exit _Lovis_.
Come, Sir, you must conduct me to _Antonio_.
[Exeunt _Alonzo_, _Haunce_, and _Gload_.
_Hip._ So now the Work's half done, that will redeem All the lost Credit of our Family.
To kill, or to be kill'd, I care not which, [Weeps.
So one or both expire; be strong, my Soul, And let no feeble Woman dwell about thee.
Hence Fears and Pity, such poor things as these Cannot the Storms of my Revenge appease: Those Showers must from his treacherous Heart proceed, If I can live and see _Antonio_ bleed. [Sighs, and Exit.
SCENE III. _A deep Grove._
Enter _Marcel_ alone.
_Mar._ The hour is almost come which I appointed, And yet no _Silvio_ appears, the time seems long to me; But he that's circled in his Mistress' Arms, Forgets the hasty hours, And passes them as unregarded by, As Men do Beggars who demand a Charity.
Enter _Hippolyta_.
Young Man, hast thou encounter'd none within this Grove?
_Hip._ Not any, Sir,-- _Marcel_! my injur'd Brother!
_Mar._ Why dost thou turn away, and hide thy Face?
_Hip._ 'Tis not my Face I hide, but Sorrow there. [Weeps.
_Mar._ Trust me, thou weepest; would I could do so too, That I might be less angry; And Silence best expresses Grief: But thine's a saucy Sorrow dares approach A Face so fair and young.
_Hip._ If the Ingrate for whom I grieve had thought so, I might have spar'd my Tears. Farewel, Sir.
_Mar._ Stay, hast thou been a Lover?
_Hip._ A very, very passionate one.
_Mar._ And wert thou not belov'd?
_Hip._ At first, to draw me in, the cunning Artist Made me believe I was.
_Mar._ Oh! I could kiss thee now, for the alliance Between thy Grief and mine.
Hadst thou a loose and wanton Sister too, Then thou wert perfect wretched, as I am. [Weeps.
But prithee leave me, now I think of it: For shouldst thou stay, thou'dst rob me of my Anger; For since a Youth like thee can be unhappy, With such a Shape, and so divine a Face, Methinks I should not quarrel with my Star, But bow to all my faithless Mistress' Scorns.
[Hollowing within.] So ho, ho, so ho, ho--
_Mar._ So ho, so ho, ho, ho-- 'Tis my false Rival.
Now leave me, Sir, to reassume my Anger.
_Hip._ I will obey-- farewel-- My own Despair makes me neglect his Life. [Goes out.
Enter _Silvio_.
_Mar._ 'Tis _Silvio_.
_Silv._ You see I have obey'd you, Sir.
_Mar._ Come, Sir, your Sword.
_Silv._ You are my Brother, and 'twere an impious Action, To fight you unprovok'd: give me a cause, Nay, and a just one too, or I shall find it hard --To wound _Cleonte's_ Brother. [Aside sighing.
_Mar._ Thou cam'st prepar'd to talk, and not to fight.
I cannot blame thee for't, for were I _Silvio_, Thus I would do to save a Life belov'd: [Offers to fight, _Silvio_ steps back.
But 'twill not serve you now.
_Silv._ Your Reason, Sir, and I'm ready, if it be just.
_Mar._ Oh do not urge me to repeat my Wrongs, For if thou dost, I hardly shall have Man enough remain To fight thee fairly. [Offers still.
_Silv._ Surely he knows my Passion for _Cleonte_-- [Aside.
I urge the Reason still.
_Mar._ Hast thou forgot thy last Night's Treachery?
How like a Thief thou stol'st into her Lodgings?