_Gal_. A Voice too! by Heaven, and ‘tis a sweet one: Grant she be young, and I’ll excuse the rest, Yet vie for Pleasure with the happiest _Roman_. [_The Song as by_ Laura, _after which soft Musick till she enters_. The SONG by a Person of Quality. _Farewel the World and mortal Cares, The ravished Strephon cry’d, As full of Joy and tender Tears He lay by Phillis’ side: Let others toil for Wealth and Fame, Whilst not one Thought of mine At any other Bliss shall aim, But those dear Arms, but those dear Arms of thine. Still let me gaze in thy bright Eyes, And hear thy charming Tongue; I nothing ask t’increase my Joys, But thus to feel ‘em long. In close Embraces let us lie, And spend our Lives to come; Then let us both together die, And be each other’s, be each other’s Tomb_. --Death, I’m fir’d already with her Voice-- _Cor_. So, I am like to thrive.-- _Enter_ Julio. _Jul_. What mean these Lights in every Room, as if to make The day without the Sun, and quite destroy my Hopes!-- Hah, _Galliard_ here! _Cor_. A Man! grant it some Lover, or some Husband, Heaven, Or any thing that will but spoil the Sport. The Lady! Oh, blast her, how fair she is! _Enter_ Laura _with her Lute, drest in a careless rich Dress, followed by_ Sabina, _to whom she gives her Lute, and_ Silvio. _Jul_. Hah! ‘tis the same Woman. [_She sees_ Julio _and starts_. _Lau_. A Stranger here! What Art can help me now? [_She pauses_. _Gal_. By all my Joys, a lovely Woman ‘tis. _Lau_. Help me, Deceit, Dissembling, all that’s Woman-- [_She starts and gazes on_ Gal. _pulling_ Silvio. _Cor_. Sure I shou’d know that Face.-- _Lau_. Ah, look, my _Silvio_, is’t not he?--it is! That Smile, that Air, that Mien, that Bow is his: ’.is he, by all my Hopes, by all my Wishes. _Gal_. He! yes, yes, I am a He, I thank my Stars, And never blest ‘em half so much for being so, As for the dear Variety of Woman. _Cor_. Curse on her Charms, she’ll make him love in earnest. _Lau_. It is my Brother; and Report was false. [_Going towards him_. _Gal_. How, her Brother! Gad, I’m sorry we are so near akin, with all my Soul; for I’m damnably pleas’d with her. _Lau_. Ah, why do you shun my Arms? or are ye Air? And not to be enclos’d in human Twines-- Perhaps you are the Ghost of that dead Lord, That comes to whisper Vengeance to my Soul. _Gal_. S’heart, a Ghost! This is an odd preparative to Love. [_Aside_. _Cor_, ‘Tis Laura, my Brother _Julio’s_ Mistress, and Sister to _Octavio_.