Hell. As become his Sister!—That is, to be as resolved your way, as he is his— [_Hell._ goes to _Callis_. Flor. I ne’er till now perceiv’d my Ruin near, I’ve no Defence against _Antonio’s_ Love, For he has all the Advantages of Nature, The moving Arguments of Youth and Fortune. Hell. But hark you, _Callis_, you will not be so cruel to lock me up indeed: will you? Call. I must obey the Commands I hate—besides, do you consider what a Life you are going to lead? Hell. Yes, _Callis_, that of a Nun: and till then I’ll be indebted a World of Prayers to you, if you let me now see, what I never did, the Divertisements of a Carnival. Call. What, go in Masquerade? ’twill be a fine farewell to the World I take it—pray what wou’d you do there? Hell. That which all the World does, as I am told, be as mad as the rest, and take all innocent Freedom—Sister, you’ll go too, will you not? come prithee be not sad—We’ll out-wit twenty Brothers, if you’ll be ruled by me—Come put off this dull Humour with your Clothes, and assume one as gay, and as fantastick as the Dress my Cousin _Valeria_ and I have provided, and let’s ramble. Flor. _Callis_, will you give us leave to go? 16 Call. I have a youthful Itch of going my self. [Aside.] —Madam, if I thought your Brother might not know it, and I might wait on you, for by my troth I’ll not trust young Girls alone. Flor. Thou see’st my Brother’s gone already, and thou shalt attend and watch us. Enter _Stephano_. Steph. Madam, the Habits are come, and your Cousin Valeria is drest, and stays for you. Flor. ’Tis well—I’ll write a Note, and if I chance to see _Belvile_, and want an opportunity to speak to him, that shall let him know what I’ve resolv’d in favour of him. Hell. Come, let’s in and dress us. [Exeunt. Scene II. A Long Street. Enter _Belvile_, melancholy, _Blunt_ and _Frederick_. Fred. Why, what the Devil ails the Colonel, in a time when all the World is gay, to look like mere Lent thus? Hadst thou been long enough in _Naples_ to have been in love, I should have sworn some such Judgment had befall’n thee. Belv. No, I have made no new Amours since I came to Naples. Fred. You have left none behind you in Paris. Belv. Neither. Fred. I can’t divine the Cause then; unless the old Cause, the want of Mony. Blunt. And another old Cause, the want of a Wench— Wou’d not that revive you? Belv. You’re mistaken, _Ned_. Blunt Nay, ’Sheartlikins, then thou art past Cure. Fred. I have found it out; thou hast renew’d thy Acquaintance with the Lady that cost thee so many Sighs at the Siege of _Pampelona_—pox on’t, what d’ye call her—her Brother’s a noble _Spaniard_—Nephew to the dead General—_Florinda_—ay, _Florinda_—And will nothing 17 serve thy turn but that damn’d virtuous Woman, whom on my Conscience thou lov’st in spite too, because thou seest little or no possibility of gaining her?