Volume Iii Part 25 (1/2)

_Friend_. Yes, I do love her, and dare own it too; And will defend her from one so base and treacherous.

_Bel_. Who dares deny thy Reasons?

_Friend_. Sh'has made me take an Oath, to fight with thee; And every Wound my lucky Sword shou'd make, She bad me say, was sent thee from her Hate.

_Bel_. Oh, I believe thee: prithee tell on, young Man, That I may die without the aid of Wounds.

_Friend_. To break thy Heart, know then, she loves another, And has took back the Vows she made to thee, And given 'em to a Man more worthy of 'em.

_Bel_. Alas! I credit thee--yet--then, by Heav'n, she's false!

And I will know, why 'tis she is thus perjur'd. [_Offers to go_.

--Nay, now--nor Heaven, nor h.e.l.l, shall hinder me.

--Stand off, or to the number I'll add one Sin more, And make my Pa.s.sage to it through thy Heart.

_Friend_. And so you shall, Sir.

[_They fight_, Bellmour disarms Friend, and runs in_.

--Disarm'd! by Heav'n, you shall not so escape A Rage that is too just here to give o'er.

SCENE IV. _Changes to the Inside of_ Friendlove's _Lodgings_.

_Enter_ Celinda, _as before, met by_ Nurse.

_Nur_. Oh, Madam, here's Mr. Bellmour; he has wounded my young Master, who deny'd him Entrance, and is come into the House, and all in Rage demands his Wife.

_Cel_. Oh Heav'n! Demands his Wife! Is that sad Curse Added to all the rest?--Does he then love her?

_Enter_ Bellmour _with two Swords_.

_Nur_. Whither do you press, Sir? and what's your business?

_Bel_. To see my Wife, my Wife, Impertinence; And must I meet with nought but Opposition?

[_Pushes her roughly away_.

_Cel_. Let him come in.

_Nur_. Marry, he lets himself in, I thank him.

_Cel_. What Man art thou thus cover'd o'er with Horror?

_Bel_. One sent from h.e.l.l to punish Perjury!

--Where's this perfidious Fair? this blushless Maid, That has by my Example broke her Vows?

A Precedent that Fiends wou'd shame to follow.

_Cel_. Who is't you mean, Sir?

_Bel_. A thing that has no Name, she is so bad; One who so lately gave her self to me, And now is flown into another's Arms: One that attacks my Life, for the same Sins Which she her self commits--and thinks to live too.

--Yet still she is my Wife, whom I have injur'd: Till when, she was a Saint--come, lead me to her, Though she be false as I, yet I'll forgive it.

[_Throws by the Swords_.