Volume Ii Part 91 (1/2)

_Mor_. I say 'twas rashly done, to fight him unexamin'd.

_Oct_. I need not ask; my Reason has inform'd me, and I'm convinc'd, where-e'er he has concealed her, that she is fled with _Fillamour_.

_Jul_. Who is't they speak of?

_Mor_. Well, well, sure my Ancestors committed some horrid crime against Nature, that she sent this Pest of Woman-kind into our Family,--two Nieces for my share;--by Heaven, a Proportion sufficient to undo six Generations.

_Jul_. Hah? two Nieces, what of them? [_Aside_.

_Mor_. I am like to give a blessed account of 'em to their Brother _Julio_ my Nephew, at his return; there's a new plague now:--but my comfort is, I shall be mad, and there's an end on't.

[_Weeps_.

_Jul_. My Curiosity must be satisfied,--have patience, n.o.ble Sir.--

_Mor_. Patience is a flatterer, Sir,--and an a.s.s, Sir; and I'll have none on't--hah, what art thou?

_Jul_. Has five or six Years made ye lose the remembrance of your Nephew--_Julio_?

_Mor. Julio!_ I wou'd I had met thee going to thy Grave.

[_Weeps_.

_Jul_. Why so, Sir?

_Mor_. Your Sisters, Sir, your Sisters are both gone.-- [_Weeps_.

_Jul_. How gone, Sir?

_Mor_. Run away, Sir, flown, Sir.

_Jul_. Heavens! which way?

_Mor_. Nay, who can tell the ways of fickle Women--in short, Sir, your Sister _Marcella_ was to have been married to this n.o.ble Gentleman,--nay, was contracted to him, fairly contracted in my own Chappel; but no sooner was his back turn'd, but in a pernicious Moon-light Night she shews me a fair pair of heels, with the young Baggage, your other Sister _Cornelia_, who was just come from the Monastery where I bred her, to see her Sister married.

_Jul_. A curse upon the s.e.x! why must Man's Honour Depend upon their Frailty?

--Come--give me but any light which way they went, And I will trace 'em with that careful Vengeance--

_Oct_. Spoke like a Man, that understands his Honour; And I can guess how we may find the Fugitives.

_Jul_. Oh, name it quickly, Sir!

_Oct_. There was a young Cavalier--some time at _Viterbo_, Who I confess had Charms, Heaven has denied to me, That Trifle, Beauty, which was made to please Vain foolish Woman, which the brave and wise Want leisure to design.--

_Jul_. And what of him?

_Oct_. This fine gay thing came in your Sister's way, And made that Conquest Nature meant such Fools for: And, Sir, she's fled with him.

_Jul_. Oh, show me the Man, the daring hardy Villain, Bring me but in the view of my Revenge,--and if I fail to take it, Brand me with everlasting Infamy.

_Oct_. That we must leave to Fortune, and our Industry.

--Come, Sir, let's walk and think best what to do,--

[_Going down the Scene, Enter_ Fil. _and_ Gal.