_Ber._ I trembled for you: Remember that the eye of love is piercing, And Emmelina mark'd you. _Or._ 'Tis too much! My artless nature cannot bear disguise. Think what I felt when unsuspecting Rivers Press'd me with gen'rous rapture to his bosom, Profess'd an honest joy, and call'd me friend! I felt myself a traitor: yet I swear, Yes, by that Power who sees the thoughts of men, I swear, I love the gallant Rivers more Than light or life! I love, but yet I fear, him: I shrunk before the lustre of his virtue---- I felt as I had wrong'd him--felt abash'd. I cannot bear this conflict in my soul, And therefore have resolv'd---- _Ber._ On what? _Or._ To fly. _Ber._ To fly from Julia? _Or._ Yes, to fly from all, From every thing I love; to fly from Rivers, From Emmelina, from myself, from thee: From Julia? no--that were impossible, For I shall bear her image in my soul; It is a part of me, the dearest part; So closely interwoven with my being, That I can never lose the dear remembrance, 'Till I am robb'd of life and her together. _Ber._ 'Tis cowardice to fly. _Or._ 'Tis death to stay. _Ber._ Where would you go?--How lost in thought he stands! [_Aside._ A vulgar villain now would use persuasion, And by his very earnestness betray The thing he meant to hide: I'll coolly wait, Till the occasion shows me how to act; Then turn it to my purpose.--Ho! Orlando! Where would you go? _Or._ To solitude, to hopeless banishment! Yes, I will shroud my youth in those dark cells Where Disappointment steals Devotion's name, To cheat the wretched votary into ruin; There will I live in love with misery: Ne'er shall the sight of mirth profane my grief; The sound of joy shall never charm my ear, Nor music reach it, save when the slow bell Wakes the dull brotherhood to lifeless prayer. Then, when the slow-retreating world recedes, When warm desires are cold, and passion dead, And all things but my Julia are forgotten, One thought of her shall fire my languid soul, Chase the faint orison, and feed despair. _Ber._ What! with monastic, lazy drones retire, And chant cold hymns with holy hypocrites? First perish all the sex! Forbid it, manhood! Where is your nobler self? For shame, Orlando; Renounce this superstitious, whining weakness, Or I shall blush to think I call'd you friend. _Or._ What can I do? _Ber._ (_after a pause._) Beg she'll defer the marriage But for one single day; do this, and leave The rest to me: she shall be thine. _Or._ How say'st thou? What, wrong her virtue?