_Riv._ Provoke me not. _Or._ Of Julia---- _Riv._ Ha! I shall forget my honour, And do a brutal violence upon thee, Would tarnish my fair fame. Villain and coward! Traitor! will nothing rouse thee? _Or._ (_drawing._) Swelling heart! Yet this I have deserv'd, all this, and more. _As they prepare to fight, enter_ EMMELINA _hastily_. _Em._ Lend me your swiftness, lightnings--'tis too late. See they're engag'd--oh, no--they live, both live! Hold, cruel men! _Riv._ Unlucky! 'tis my sister. _Em._ Ye men of blood! if yet you have not lost All sense of human kindness, love, or pity; If ever you were dear to one another; If ever you desire or look for mercy When in the wild extremity of anguish, You supplicate that Judge who has declar'd That vengeance is his own--oh, hear me now; Hear a fond wretch, whom mis'ry has made bold; Spare, spare each other's life--spare your own souls. _Or._ (_to_ RIVERS.) Thou shouldst have struck at once! O tardy hand! _Em._ Does death want engines? is his power curtail'd? Has fell disease forgotten to destroy? Are there not pestilence and spotted plagues, Devouring deluges, consuming fires, Earthquakes, volcanoes, hurricanes, and famine, That man must perish by the hand of man? Nay, to complete the horror, friend by friend? _Riv._ What! shall I then endure this outrage tamely? _Em._ No. If you _covet_ death; if you're in _love_ With slaughter and destruction--does not war Invite you to her banner? Far and wide Her dire dominion reaches.--There seek death. There fall without a crime. There, where no hate, No individual rage, no private wrong, Arms man against his brother.--Not as here, Where _both_ are often _murderers_ in the _act_; In the _foul purpose----always_. _Riv._ Is honour nothing? _Em._ Honour! O yes, I know him. 'Tis a phantom; A shadowy figure wanting bulk and life; Who, having nothing solid in himself, Wraps his thin form in Virtue's plunder'd robe, And steals her title. Honour! 'tis the fiend Who feeds on orphans' tears and widows' groans, And slakes his impious thirst in brothers' blood. Honour! why, 'tis the primal law of hell! The grand device to people the dark realms With noble spirits, who, but for this curst honour, Had been at peace on earth, or bless'd in heaven. With this _false_ honour Christians have no commerce, Religion disavows, and truth disowns it. _Or._ (_throws away his sword._) An angel speaks, and angels claim obedience. _Riv._ (_to_ ORLANDO.) This is the heart thou hast wrong'd. _Em._ (_comes up to_ ORLANDO.) I pity thee; Calamity has taught me how to pity; Before I knew distress, my heart was hard; But now it melts at ev'ry touch of woe; And wholesome sufferings bring it back to virtue. Rivers, he once was good and just like thee: Who shall be proud and think he stands secure, If thy Orlando's false? _Riv._ Think of his crime.