_Alon_. Damnation on her! can she be thus false? Come, lead me to the Lodgings of this Strumpet, And make me see this truth, [_To_ Elvira. Or I will leave thee dead, for thus abusing me. _Qu_. Nay, dear _Alonzo_, do not go inrag’d, Stay till your Temper wears a calmer look; That if, by chance, you shou’d behold the Wantons, In little harmless Dalliance, such as Lovers (Aided with Silence, and the shades of Night) May possibly commit, You may not do that which you may repent of. _Alon_. Gods! should I play the Pander! And with my Patience, aid the amorous Sin-- No, I shall scarce have so much Tameness left, To mind me of my Duty to my King. Ye Gods! behold the Sacrifice I make To my lost Honour: behold, and aid my Justice. [_Ex_. Alon. _Qu_. It will concern me too to see this Wonder, For yet I scarce can credit it. [_Exeunt_. SCENE III. Florella’s _Lodgings_. _Enter the_ King, _leading in_ Florella _all in fear_. _Flor_. Ah, Sir, the Gods and you would be more merciful, If by a Death less cruel than my Fears, You would preserve my Honour; begin it quickly, And after that I will retain my Duty, And at your Feet breathe Thanks in dying Sighs. _King_. Where learnt you, Fairest, so much Cruelty To charge me with the Power of injuring thee? Not from my Eyes, where Love and Languishment Too sensibly inform thee of my Heart. _Flor_. Call it not Injury, Sir, to free my Soul From fears which such a Visit must create, In dead of Night, when nought but frightful Ghosts Of restless Souls departed walk the Round. _King_. That fleeting thing am I, whom all Repose, All Joys, and every good of Life abandon’d, That fatal Hour thou gavest thy self away; And I was doom’d to endless Desperation: Yet whilst I liv’d, all glorious with my hopes, Some sacred Treasures in thy Breast I hid, And near thee still my greedy Soul will hover. _Flor_. Ah, rather like a Ravisher you come, With Love and Fierceness in your dangerous Eyes; And both will equally be fatal to me. _King_. Oh, do not fear me, as the fair _Lucretia_ Did the fierce Roman Youth; I mean no Rapes, Thou canst not think that I wou’d force those Joys, Which cease to be so, when compell’d, _Florella_-- No, I would sooner pierce this faithful Heart, Whose Flame appears too criminal for your Mercy. _Flor_. Why do you fright me, Sir? methinks your Looks All pale, your Eyes thus fixt, and trembling Hands, The awful Horror of the dark and silent Night, Strike a cold Terror round my fainting Heart, That does presage some fatal Accident. _King_. ‘Tis in your cruel Eyes the Danger lies-- Wou’d you receive me with that usual Tenderness, Which did express it self in every Smile, I should dismiss tin’s Horror from my Face, And place again its native Calmness there; And all my Veins shall re-assume their Heat, And with a new and grateful Ardour beat.