Alon. I know not what to say, I am unus’d to this soft kind of Language: But if there be a Charm in Words, and such As may conjure her to return again; Prithee instruct me in them, I’ll say any thing, Do any thing, and suffer all the Wounds Her Eyes can give. Euph. Sure he is real. [Aside. Alas! I am discover’d; how came my Veil off? [She pretends to recover, and wonder that her Veil is off. Alon. That you have let me see that lovely Face, May move your Pity, not your Anger, Madam; Pity the Wounds ’t has made, pity the Slave, Who till this Moment boasted of his Freedom. Euph. May I believe all this? for that we easily do in things we wish. Alon. Command me things impossible to all Sense but a Lover’s, I will do’t: to shew The Truth of this, I could even give you The last Proof of it, and take you at your Word, To marry you. Euph. O wondrous Reformation! marry me! [Laughs. Alon. How, do you mock my Grief? Euph. What a strange dissembling thing is Man! To put me off too, you were to be married. Alon. Hah, I had forgotten _Hippolyta_. [He starts. Euph. See, _Olinda_, the Miracle increases, he can be serious too. How do you, Sir? Alon. ’Tis you have robb’d me of my native Humour, I ne’er could think till now. Euph. And to what purpose was it now? Alon. Why, Love and Honour were at odds within me, And I was making Peace between them. 242 Euph. How fell that out, Sir? Alon. About a Pair of Beauties; Women, That set the whole World at odds. She that is Honour’s Choice I never saw, And love has taught me new Obedience here. Euph. What means he? I fear he is in earnest. [Aside. Olin. ’Tis nothing but his Aversion to Marriage, which most young Men dread now-a-days. Euph. I must have this Stranger, or I must die; for whatever Face I put upon’t, I am far gone in Love, but I must hide it. [Aside. Well, since I have mist my Aim, you shall never boast my Death; I’ll cast my self away upon the next handsom young Fellow I meet, tho I die for’t; and so farewel to you, loving Sir. [Offers to go. Alon. Stay, do not marry, as you esteem the Life of him that shall possess you. Euph. Sure you will not kill him. Alon. By Heaven, I will. Euph. O I’ll trust you, Sir: Farewel, farewel. Alon. You shall not go in triumph thus, Unless you take me with you. Euph. Well, since you are so resolv’d (and so in love) I’ll give you leave to see me once more at a House at the Corner of St. _Jerom’s_, where this Maid shall give you Entrance. Alon. Why, that’s generously said. Euph. As soon ’tis dark you may venture. Alon. Till then will be an Age, farewel, fair Saint, To thee and all my quiet till we meet. [Exeunt. ACT II. Scene I. The Street. Enter _Marcel_ in a Cloak alone.