Alon. What Troops of Beauties she has! sufficient to take whole Cities in—Madam, I beg— [Takes _Clarinda_ by the Hand, and approaches _Cleonte_. Cleo. What, Sir? Alon. That you would receive into Protection— Cleo. What pray, Sir? Alon. Would you would give me leave to say, a Heart That your fair Eyes have lately made unfit For its old Quarters. Cleo. I rather think you mean this Lady, Sir. [_Alonzo_ looks with wonder on _Clarinda_. Alon. She’s heavenly fair too, and has surpriz’d my Heart, Just as ’twas going to the other’s Bosom, And rob’d her at least of one half of it. [Aside. Clar. Madam, I am a Virgin in distress, And by misfortune forc’d to seek a Sanctuary, And humbly beg it here. Cleo. Intreaties were not made for that fair Mouth; Command and be obey’d. But, Sir, to whom do you belong? Alon. I belong to a very fair Person, But do not know her Name. Cleo. But what are you, pray, Sir? 259 Alon. Madam, a Wanderer; a poor lost thing, That none will own or pity. Cleo. That’s sad indeed; but whoe’er you are, since you belong to this fair Maid, you’ll find a Welcome every where. Alon. And if I do not, I am cashier’d. [Aside. Madam, if telling you I am her Brother, Can make me more acceptable, I shall be yet more proud of the Alliance. Cleo. What must I call your Sister, Sir, when I would pay my Duty? Alon. There I am routed again with another hard Question. [Aside. Clar. Madam, my Name’s _Clarinda_. Alon. Madam, I’ll take my leave, and wish the Heart I leave with you to night, may persuade you to suffer my Visits to morrow, till when I shall do nothing but languish. Cleo. I know not what loss you have suffer’d to night; but since your fair Sister’s Presence with us allows it, you need not doubt a welcome. Alon. I humbly thank you, Madam. [Kisses her Hand, and looks amorously on _Clarinda_. Fran. Madam, pray retire, for Don _Marcel_ is come into the House all bloody, inrag’d against somebody. Clar. I’m troubled at his Hurt, but cannot fear his Rage. Good night, Sir. [They go out. Alon. They are gone; now had I as much mind to have kist the other’s Hand, but that ’twas not a Ceremony due to a Sister—What the Devil came into my Head, to say she was so? nothing but the natural itch of talking and lying: they are very fair; but what’s that to me? _Euphemia_ surpasses both: But a Pox of her terms of Marriage, I’ll set that to her Beauty, and then these get the Day, as far as natural Necessity goes: But I’ll home and sleep upon’t, and yield to what’s most powerful in the Morning. To night these Strangers do my Heart possess, But which the greatest share, I cannot guess: 260 My Fate in Love resembles that in War, When the rich Spoil falls to the common share. [Goes out. Scene VII. The Street. Enter _Alonzo_, as out of the House, gazing upon it. Alon. Sure I shall know this House again to morrow. [To him _Lovis_. Lov. I wonder what should be become of _Alonzo_, I do do not like these Night-works of his— Who’s there?