Euph. In short this; I must leave you instantly; and will only tell you I am the sole Daughter of a rich Parent, young, and as I am told not unhandsom; I am contracted to a Man I never saw, nor I am sure shall not like when I do see, he having more Vice and Folly than his Fortune will excuse, tho a great one; and I had rather die than marry him. Alon. I understand you, and you would have me dispatch this Man. Euph. I am not yet so wicked. The Church is the only place I am allowed to go to, and till now could never see the Man that was perfectly agreeable to me: Thus veil’d, I’ll venture to tell you so. Alon. What the Devil will this come to? her Mien and Shape are strangely graceful, and her Discourse is free and natural. What a damn’d Defeat is this, that she should be honest now! [Aside. Euph. Well, Sir, what Answer? I see he is uneasy.[_Aside._ Alon. Why, as I was saying, Madam, I am a Stranger. Euph. I like you the better for that. Alon. But, Madam, I am a Man unknown, unown’d in the World; and much unworthy the Honour you do me—Would I were well rid of her, and yet I find a damnable Inclination to stay too. [Aside. Will nothing but Matrimony serve your turn, Madam? Pray use a young Lover as kindly as you can. 240 Euph. Nothing but that will do, and that must be done. Alon. Must! ’slife this is the first of her Sex that ever was before-hand with me, and yet that I should be forc’d to deny her too. [Aside. Euph. I fear his Answer, _Olinda_. [Aside. Olin. At least ’tis but making a Discovery of your Beauty, and then you have him sure. Alon. Madam, ’tis a matter of Moment, and requires Deliberation; besides I have made a kind of Promise— Euph. Never to marry? Alon. No, faith, ’tis not so well: But since now I find we are both in haste, I am to be marry’d. Euph. This I am sure is an Excuse; but I’ll fit him for’t. [Aside. To be marry’d said you? That Word has kill’d me, Oh I feel it drill Through the deep Wound his Eyes have lately made: ’Twas much unkind to make me hope so long. [She leans on _Olinda_, as if she swooned, who pulls off her Veil: he stands gazing at a Distance. Olin. Sure she does but counterfeit, and now I’ll play my Part. Madam, Madam! Alon. What wondrous thing is that! I should not look upon’t, it changes Nature in me. Olin. Have you no pity, Sir? Come nearer pray. Alon. Sure there’s Witchcraft in that Face, it never could have seiz’d me thus else, I have lov’d a thousand times, yet never felt such joyful Pains before. Olin. She does it rarely. What mean you, Sir? Alon. I never was a Captive to this Hour. If in her Death such certain Wounds she give, What Mischiefs she would do, if she should live! Yet she must live, and live that I may prove Whether this strange Disorder here be Love. [To his heart. Divine, divinest Maid. [Kneels. 241 Olin. Come nearer, Sir, you’ll do a Lady no good at that Distance. Speak to her, Sir. [He rises and comes to her, gazing still.