Hell. The more’s my Grief; I wou’d fain know as much as you, which makes me so inquisitive; nor is’t enough to know you’re a Lover, unless you tell me too, who ’tis you sigh for. Flor. When you are a Lover, I’ll think you fit for a Secret of that nature. Hell. ’Tis true, I was never a Lover yet— but I begin to have a shreud Guess, what ’tis to be so, and fancy it very pretty to sigh, and sing, and blush and wish, and dream and wish, and long and wish to see the Man; and when I do, look pale and tremble; just as you did when my Brother brought home the fine _English_ Colonel to see you— what do you call him? Don _Belvile_. Flor. Fie, _Hellena_. Hell. That Blush betrays you—I am sure ’tis so—or is it Don _Antonio_ the Vice-Roy’s Son?—or perhaps the rich old Don _Vincentio_, whom my father designs for your Husband?—Why do you blush again? Flor. With Indignation; and how near soever my Father thinks I am to marrying that hated Object, I shall let him see I understand better what’s due to my Beauty, Birth and Fortune, and more to my Soul, than to obey those unjust Commands. Hell. Now hang me, if I don’t love thee for that dear Disobedience. I love Mischief strangely, as most of our 11 Sex do, who are come to love nothing else—But tell me, dear _Florinda_, don’t you love that fine _Anglese?_—for I vow next to loving him my self, ’twill please me most that you do so, for he is so gay and so handsom. Flor. _Hellena_, a Maid design’d for a Nun ought not to be so curious in a Discourse of Love. Hell. And dost thou think that ever I’ll be a Nun? Or at least till I’m so old, I’m fit for nothing else. Faith no, Sister; and that which makes me long to know whether you love _Belvile_, is because I hope he has some mad Companion or other, that will spoil my Devotion; nay I’m resolv’d to provide my self this Carnival, if there be e’er a handsom Fellow of my Humour above Ground, tho I ask first. Flor. Prithee be not so wild. Hell. Now you have provided your self with a Man, you take no Care for poor me—Prithee tell me, what dost thou see about me that is unfit for Love—have not I a world of Youth? a Humour gay? a Beauty passable? a Vigour desirable? well shap’d? clean limb’d? sweet breath’d? and Sense enough to know how all these ought to be employ’d to the best Advantage: yes, I do and will. Therefore lay aside your Hopes of my Fortune, by my being a Devotee, and tell me how you came acquainted with this _Belvile_; for I perceive you knew him before he came to _Naples_. Flor. Yes, I knew him at the Siege of _Pampelona_, he was then a Colonel of _French_ Horse, who when the Town was ransack’d, nobly treated my Brother and my self, preserving us from all Insolencies; and I must own, (besides great Obligations) I have I know not what, that pleads kindly for him about my Heart, and will suffer no other to enter—But see my Brother. Enter _Don Pedro_, _Stephano_, with a Masquing Habit, and _Callis_.