Volume Iii Part 14 (2/2)

I.

_The happy Minute's come, the Nymph is laid, Who means no more to rise a Maid.

Blus.h.i.+ng, and panting, she expects th'Approach Of Joys that kill with every touch: Nor can her native Modesty and Shame Conceal the Ardour of her Virgin Flame_.

II.

_And now the amorous Youth is all undrest, Just ready for Love's mighty Feast; With vigorous haste the Veil aside he throws, That doth all Heaven at once disclose.

Swift as Desire, into her naked Arms Himself he throws, and rifles all her Charms_.

Good morrow, Mr. _Bellmour_, and to your lovely Bride, long may you live and love.

_Enter_ Bellmour _above_.

_Bel_. Who is't has sent that Curse?

Sir _Tim_. What a Pox, is that _Bellmour_? The Rogue's in choler, the Bride has not pleas'd him.

_Bel_. Dogs! Do you upbraid me? I'll be with you presently.

Sir _Tim_. Will you so?--but I'll not stay your coming.

_Cel_. But you shall, Sir.

_Bel_. Turn, Villains!

[_Sir_ Tim. _&c. offers to go off_, Celinda _steps forth, and draws, they draw, and set upon her. Enter_ Bellmour _behind them: They turn, and_ Celinda _sides with_ Bellmour, _and fights. Enter_ Diana, Bellmour _fights 'em out, and leaves_ Celinda _breathless, leaning on her Sword_.

_Dia_. I'll ne'er demand the cause of this disorder, But take this opportunity to fly To the next hands will take me up--who's here?

_Cel_. Not yet, my sullen Heart!

_Dia_. Who's here? one wounded--alas--

_Cel_. 'Tis not so lucky--but who art thou That dost with so much pity ask?

_Dia_. He seems a Gentleman--handsome and young-- [_Aside_.

Pray ask no Questions, Sir; but if you are what you seem, Give a Protection to an unhappy Maid.

--Do not reply, but let us haste away.

_Cel_. Hah--What do I hear! sure, 'tis _Diana_.

--Madam, with haste, and joy, I'll serve you.

--I'll carry her to my own Lodgings.

Fortune, in this, has done my Sufferings right, My Rival's in my Power, upon her Wedding-Night. [_Aside_.

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