Belv. That Opinion must be strangely obliging that makes You think I can personate the brave _Antonio_, Whom I can but strive to imitate. Ant. You say too much to my Advantage. Come, Sir, the Day appears that calls you forth. Within, Sir, is the Habit. [Exit _Antonio_. Belv. Fantastick Fortune, thou deceitful Light, That cheats the wearied Traveller by Night, Tho on a Precipice each step you tread, I am resolv’d to follow where you lead. [Exit. Scene II. The Molo. Enter _Florinda_ and _Callis_ in Masques, with _Stephano_. Flor. I’m dying with my fears; _Belvile’s_ not coming, As I expected, underneath my Window, Makes me believe that all those Fears are true. [Aside. —Canst thou not tell with whom my Brother fights? Steph. No, Madam, they were both in Masquerade, I was by when they challeng’d one another, and they had decided the Quarrel then, but were prevented by some Cavaliers; which made ’em put it off till now—but I am sure ’tis about you they fight. 65 Flor. Nay then ’tis with _Belvile_, for what other Lover have I that dares fight for me, except _Antonio?_ and he is too much in favour with my Brother—If it be he, for whom shall I direct my Prayers to Heaven? [Aside. Steph. Madam, I must leave you; for if my Master see me, I shall be hang’d for being your Conductor.—I escap’d narrowly for the Excuse I made for you last night i’th’ Garden. Flor. And I’ll reward thee for’t—prithee no more. [Exit. Steph. Enter Don _Pedro_ in his Masquing Habit. Pedro. _Antonio’s_ late to day, the place will fill, and we may be prevented. [Walk about. Flor. _Antonio!_ sure I heard amiss. [Aside. Pedro. But who would not excuse a happy Lover. When soft fair Arms confine the yielding Neck; And the kind Whisper languishingly breathes, Must you be gone so soon? Sure I had dwelt for ever on her Bosom. —But stay, he’s here. Enter _Belvile_ drest in _Antonio’s_ Clothes. Flor. ’Tis not _Belvile_, half my Fears are vanisht. Pedro. _Antonio!_— Belv. This must be he. [Aside.] You’re early, Sir,—I do not use to be out-done this way. Pedro. The wretched, Sir, are watchful, and ’tis enough You have the advantage of me in _Angelica_. Belv. _Angelica!_ Or I’ve mistook my Man! Or else _Antonio_, Can he forget his Interest in _Florinda_, And fight for common Prize? [Aside. Pedro. Come, Sir, you know our terms— Belv. By Heaven, not I. [Aside.] —No talking, I am ready, Sir. [Offers to fight. _Flor_. runs in. 66 Flor. Oh, hold! whoe’er you be, I do conjure you hold. If you strike here—I die— [To _Belv._ Pedro. _Florinda!_ Belv. _Florinda_ imploring for my Rival! Pedro. Away, this Kindness is unseasonable. [Puts her by, they fight; she runs in just as _Belv._ disarms _Pedro_. Flor. Who are you, Sir, that dare deny my Prayers? Belv. Thy Prayers destroy him; if thou wouldst preserve him. Do that thou’rt unacquainted with, and curse him. [She holds him. Flor. By all you hold most dear, by her you love, I do conjure you, touch him not.