_Fred._ Hold, I am the Prince of _Florence_. _Cur._ These, Sir, are Rogues, and have no sense of ought, But Mischief in their Souls; Gold is their Prince and God,--go, be gone-- [They withdraw. --See, Sir, I can command them. _Fred._ _Curtius_, why dost thou deal thus treacherously with me? Did I not offer thee to fight thee fairly? _Cur._ ‘Tis like the Injuries, Sir, that you have done me; Pardon me if my Griefs make me too rude, And in coarse terms lay all your Sins before you. --First, Sir, you have debauch’d my lovely Sister, The only one I had; The Hope and Care of all our noble Family: Thou, Prince, didst ravish all her Virtue from her, And left her nothing but a desperate sense of Shame, Which only serv’d to do her self that Justice, Which I had executed, had she not prevented me. _Fred._ In this, upon my Soul, you do me wrong. _Cur._ Next, (Oh, how unlike a brave and generous Man!) Without a Cause, you cast me from your Bosom; Withdrew the Honour of your promis’d Friendship, And made me partner in my Sister’s Fate; Only with this difference, that she You left to act a Murder on her self; And mine you would have been so kind to’ve done With your own hand, but my respect prevented it. --Next, Sir, you ravish’d _Laura_ from me, And under a pretence of sacred Friendship, You prov’d your self the worst of Enemies; And that’s a Crime you dare not say was Ignorance, As you perhaps will plead your Sin to _Cloris_ was. _Fred._ _Cloris_, why, what hast thou to do with _Cloris_? _Cur._ She was my Sister, _Frederick_. _Fred._ Thy Sister! _Cur._ Yes, think of it well, A Lady of as pure and noble Blood, As that of the great Duke thy Father, Till you, bad Man, infected it. --Say, should I murder you for this base Action, Would you not call it a true Sacrifice? And would not Heaven and Earth forgive it too? _Fred._ No, had I known that she had been thy Sister, I had receiv’d her as a Gift from Heaven; And so I would do still. _Cur._ She must be sent indeed from Heaven, If you receive her now. _Fred._ Is _Cloris_ dead? Oh, how I was to blame! [Weeps. --Here thou mayst finish now the Life thou threaten’st. _Cur._ Now, Sir, you know my Justice and my Power; Yet since my Prince can shed a Tear for _Cloris_, I can forgive him; here, Sir,--send me to _Cloris_, [Kneels, and offers his Sword. That Mercy possibly will redeem the rest Of all the Wrongs you’ve done me; And you shall find nothing but Sorrow here, And a poor broken Heart that did adore you. _Fred._ Rise, _Curtius_, and divide my Dukedom with me; Do any thing that may preserve thy Life, And gain my Pardon; alas, thy Honour’s safe, Since yet none knows that _Cloris_ was thy Sister, Or if they do, I must proclaim this truth; She dy’d thy Prince’s Wife. _Cur._ These Tidings would be welcome to my Sister, And I the fitting’st Man to bear that News.