Ang. A kind, but sullen Star, under which I had the Happiness to be born; yet I have had no time for Love; the bravest and noblest of Mankind have purchas’d my Favours at so dear a Rate, as if no Coin but Gold were current with our Trade—But here’s Don _Pedro_ again, fetch me my Lute—for ’tis for him or Don _Antonio_ the Vice-Roy’s Son, that I have spread my Nets. Enter at one Door Don _Pedro_, and _Stephano_; Don _Antonio_ and _Diego_ [his page], at the other Door, with People following him in Masquerade, antickly attir’d, some with Musick: they both go up to the Picture. Ant. A thousand Crowns! had not the Painter flatter’d her, I should not think it dear. Pedro. Flatter’d her! by Heaven he cannot. I have seen the Original, nor is there one Charm here more than adorns her Face and Eyes; all this soft and sweet, with a certain languishing Air, that no Artist can represent. Ant. What I heard of her Beauty before had fir’d my Soul, but this confirmation of it has blown it into a flame. Pedro. Ha! Pag. Sir, I have known you throw away a Thousand Crowns on a worse Face, and tho y’ are near your Marriage, you may venture a little Love here; _Florinda_—will not miss it. Pedro. Ha! _Florinda!_ Sure ’tis _Antonio_. [aside. Ant. _Florinda!_ name not those distant Joys, there’s not one thought of her will check my Passion here. Pedro. _Florinda_ scorn’d! and all my Hopes defeated of the Possession of _Angelica!_ [A noise of a Lute above. _Ant._ gazes up.] Her Injuries by Heaven he shall not boast of. [Song to a Lute above. 33 SONG. When _Damon_ first began to love, He languisht in a soft Desire, And knew not how the Gods to move, To lessen or increase his Fire, For _Cælia_ in her charming Eyes Wore all Love’s Sweet, and all his Cruelties. II. But as beneath a Shade he lay, Weaving of Flow’rs for _Cælia’s_ Hair, She chanc’d to lead her Flock that way, And saw the am’rous Shepherd there. She gaz’d around upon the Place, And saw the Grove (resembling Night) To all the Joys of Love invite, Whilst guilty Smiles and Blushes drest her Face. At this the bashful Youth all Transport grew, And with kind Force he taught the Virgin how To yield what all his Sighs cou’d never do. Ant. By Heav’n she’s charming fair! [_Angelica_ throws open the Curtains, and bows to _Antonio_, who pulls off his Vizard, and bows and blows up Kisses. _Pedro_ unseen looks in his Face. Pedro. ’Tis he, the false _Antonio!_ Ant. Friend, where must I pay my offering of Love? [To the _Bravo_.] My Thousand Crowns I mean. Pedro. That Offering I have design’d to make, And yours will come too late. Ant. Prithee be gone, I shall grow angry else, And then thou art not safe. Pedro. My Anger may be fatal, Sir, as yours; And he that enters here may prove this Truth. 34 Ant. I know not who thou art, but I am sure thou’rt worth my killing, and aiming at _Angelica_. [They draw and fight. Enter _Willmore_ and _Blunt_, who draw and part ’em.