Don't you wonder, Monsieur le Count, that I was not at church this afternoon? {339} _Count Bel_. I more wonder, madam, that you go dere at all, or how you dare to lift those eyes to heaven that are guilty of so much killing. _Mrs. Sul_. If Heaven, sir, has given to my eyes with the power of killing the virtue of making a cure, I hope the one may atone for the other. _Count Bel_. Oh, largely, madam, would your ladyship be as ready to apply the remedy as to give the wound. Consider, madam, I am doubly a prisoner; first to the arms of your general, then to your more conquering eyes. My first chains are easy--there a ransom may redeem me; but from your fetters I never shall get free. {352} _Mrs. Sul_. Alas, sir! why should you complain to me of your captivity, who am in chains myself? You know, sir, that I am bound, nay, must be tied up in that particular that might give you ease: I am like you, a prisoner of war--of war, indeed--I have given my parole of honour! would you break yours to gain your liberty? {359} _Count Bel_. Most certainly I would, were I a prisoner among the Turks; dis is your case, you 're a slave, madam, slave to the worst of Turks, a husband. _Mrs. Sul_. There lies my foible, I confess; no fortifications, no courage, conduct, nor vigilancy, can pretend to defend a place where the cruelty of the governor forces the garrison to mutiny. _Count Bel_. And where de besieger is resolved to die before de place.--Here will I fix [_Kneels_];--with tears, vows, and prayers assault your heart and never rise till you surrender; or if I must storm-- Love and St. Michael!--And so I begin the attack. {372} _Mrs. Sul_. Stand off!--[_Aside_.] Sure he hears me not! --And I could almost wish--he did not!--The fellow makes love very prettily.--[_Aloud_.] But, sir, why should you put such a value upon my person, when you see it despised by one that knows it so much better? _Count Bel_. He knows it not, though he possesses it; if he but knew the value of the jewel he is master of he would always wear it next his heart, and sleep with it in his arms. {382} _Mrs. Sul_. But since he throws me unregarded from him-- _Count Bel_. And one that knows your value well comes by and takes you up, is it not justice? [_Goes to lay hold of her_. _Enter Squire Sullen with his sword drawn_. _Squire Sul_. Hold, villain, hold! _Mrs. Sul_. [_Presenting a pistol_.] Do you hold! _Squire Sul_. What! murder your husband, to defend your bully! {390} _Mrs. Sul_. Bully! for shame, Mr. Sullen, bullies wear long swords, the gentleman has none; he's a prisoner, you know. I was aware of your outrage, and prepared this to receive your violence; and, if occasion were, to preserve myself against the force of this other gentleman. _Count Bel_. O madam, your eyes be bettre firearms than your pistol; they nevre miss.