Alon. Hold! hold! fair Thief that rob’st me of my Name, And wouldst my Honour too; [Puts her by. If thou hast wrong’d the fair _Hippolyta_, [To _Antonio_. No Man but I has right to do her justice. Or you are both my Rivals—tell me which, 305 Which of you is it I must kill—or both? I am _Alonzo_, who dares love _Hippolyta?_ Hip. Let not your friendship, Sir, proceed so far, To take my Name, to take my Quarrel on you. Alon. In this Dispute none’s more concern’d than I, And I will keep my ground in such a cause, Tho all the Rivals that her Beauty makes me, Were arm’d to take my Life away. Ant. Come, Sir, I care not which of you’s _Alonzo_. [They go to fight, she holds _Alonzo_. Hip. This Gallantry’s too much, brave Stranger. _Antonio_, hurt him not; I am the wrong’d _Alonzo_, And this a perfect Stranger to the business, Who seeing me appear less Man than he, And unacquainted with my Deeds abroad, In Bounty takes my Name and Quarrel on him. Alon. Take heed, young Man, and keep thy Virtue in, Lest thus misguided it become a Crime. But thou, he says, hast wrong’d _Hippolyta_, [To _Antonio_. And I am he must punish it. Hip. Sure it is he indeed— For such a Miracle my Brother render’d him, [Aside. Hold, hold, thou Wonder of thy Sex— [They fight. Alon. Stand by, I shall be angry with thee else, And that will be unsafe— [As _Alonzo_ fights with one Hand, he keeps her off with t’other; she presses still forward on _Antonio_ with her Sword, indeavouring to keep back _Alonzo_. Enter to them _Marcel._ Mar. Sure I heard the Noise of Swords this way! [Draws. Hah, two against one! Courage, Sir. [To _Antonio_. [They fight all four, _Marcel_ with _Hippolyta_ whom he wounds, and _Alonzo_ with _Antonio_, who is disarmed. Hip. Good Heaven, how just thou art! 306 Mar. What, dost thou faint already?—Hah, the pretty talking Youth I saw but now! [Runs to her, and holds her up. Alas, how dost thou? Hip. Well, since thy Hand has wounded me— Ant. My Life is yours, nor would I ask the Gift, But to repair my Injuries to _Hippolyta_. Alon. I give it thee— [Gives him his Sword. Mar. How, _Antonio!_— What unkind Hand has rob’d me of the justice Of killing thee? Alon. His that was once thy Friend, _Marcel_. Mar. Oh! dost thou know my Shame? [Turns away. Alon. I know thou art false to Friendship, And therefore do demand mine back again, thou’st us’d it scurvily. Mar. Thou knowst too much to think I’ve injur’d thee. Alon. Not injur’d me! Who was it promis’d me _Hippolyta?_ Who his Alliance, and his Friendship too? And who has broke them all, but thou perfidious? Come, ’tis _Hippolyta_ that I demand. Mar. By this he should not know my Sister’s Shame. [Aside. Oh, Sir, you must not have _Hippolyta_.