_Dar._ The fairest in the World, Sir; I’m not for common Plunder. _Down._ Hah, my Daughter and my Kinswoman!-- _Bac._ ‘Tis not with Women, Sir, nor honest men like you, that I intend to combat; not their own Parents shall be more indulgent, nor better Safe-guard to their Honours, Sir: But ‘tis to save the expence of Blood I seize on their most valued Prizes. _Down._ But, Sir, I know your wild Lieutenant General has long lov’d my _Chrisante_, and perhaps, will take this time to force her to consent. _Dar._ I own I have a Passion for _Chrisante_, yet by my General’s Life, or her fair self, what now I act is on the score of War, I scorn to force the Maid I do adore. _Bac._ Believe me, Ladies, you shall have honourable Treatment here. _Chris._ We do not doubt it, Sir, either from you or _Daring_; if he love me, that will secure my Honour; or if he do not, he’s too brave to injure me. _Dar._ I thank you for your just opinion of me, Madam. _Chris._ But, Sir, ‘tis for my Father I must plead; to see his reverend Hands in servile Chains; and then perhaps, if stubborn to your Will, his Head must fall a Victim to your Anger. _Down._ No, my good pious Girl, I cannot fear ignoble usage from the General; and if thy Beauty can preserve thy Fame, I shall not mourn in my Captivity. _Bac._ I’ll ne’er deceive your kind opinion of me--Ladies, I hope you’re all of that Opinion too. _Sure._ If seizing us, Sir, can advance your Honour, or be of any use considerable to you, I shall be proud of such a Slavery. Mrs. _Whim._ I hope, Sir, we shan’t be ravish’d in your Camp. _Dar._ Fie, Mrs. _Whimsey_, do Soldiers use to ravish? Mrs. _Whiff._ Ravish! marry, I fear ‘em not, I’d have ‘em know, I scorn to be ravish’d by any Man. _Fear._ Ay, o’ my Conscience, Mrs. _Whiff_, you are too good-natur’d. _Dar._ Madam, I hope you’ll give me leave to name Love to you, and try by all submissive ways to win your Heart. _Chris._ Do your worst, Sir: I give you leave, if you assail me only with your Tongue. _Dar._ That’s generous and brave, and I’ll requite it. Enter _Soldier_ in haste. _Sold._ The Truce being ended, Sir, the _Indians_ grow so insolent as to attack us even in our Camp, and have killed several of our Men. _Bac._ ‘Tis time to check their Boldness; _Daring_, haste, draw up our Men in order to give ‘em Battel, I rather had expected their submission. _The Country now may see what they’re to fear, Since we that are in Arms are not secure._ [Exeunt, leading the Ladies. ACT IV.