_Fred._ Fy, fy, _Laura_, a Lady bred at Court, and Yet want complaisance enough to entertain A Gallant in private! this coy Humour Is not _à-la-mode_.--Be not so peevish with a Heart that dies for you. _Lau._ Pray tell me, Sir, what is’t in me that can Encourage this? _Fred._ That which is in all lovely Women, _Laura_; A thousand Blushes play about your Cheeks, Which shows the briskness of the Blood that warms them. --If I but tell you how I do adore you, You strait decline your Eyes; Which does declare you understand my meaning, And every Smile or Frown betrays your thoughts, And yet you cry, you do not give me cause. Enter _Maid_. _Maid._ _Curtius_, Madam, waits without. _Fred._ I do not like his haste, --Tell him he cannot be admitted now. _Lau._ Sir, he is one that merits better treatment from you; How can you injure thus the Man you love? _Fred._ Oh Madam, ask your Eyes, those powerful Attracts. And do not call their Forces so in question, As to believe they kindle feeble Fires, Such as a Friendship can surmount. No, _Laura_, They’ve done far greater Miracles. _Lau._ Sir, ‘tis in vain you tell me of their Power, Unless they could have made a nobler Conquest Than Hearts that yield to every petty Victor. --Look on me well, Can nothing here inform you of my Soul, And how it scorns to treat on these Conditions? [Looks on him, he gazes with a half Smile. _Fred._ Faith, no, _Laura_. I see nothing there but wondrous Beauty, And a deal of needless Pride and Scorn, And such as may be humbled. _Lau._ Sir, you mistake, that never can abate. But yet I know your Power may do me injuries; But I believe you’re guilty of no Sin, Save your Inconstancy, which is sufficient; And, Sir, I beg I may not be the first [Kneels and weeps. May find new Crimes about you. _Fred._ Rise, _Laura_, thou hast but too many Beauties, Which pray be careful that you keep conceal’d. [Offers to go. _Lau._ I humbly thank you, Sir. _Fred._--But why should this interposing Virtue check me? --Stay, _Laura_, tell me; must you marry _Curtius_? _Lau._ Yes, Sir, I must. _Fred._ _Laura_, you must not. _Lau._ How, Sir! _Fred._ I say you shall not marry him, Unless you offer up a Victim, That may appease the Anger you have rais’d in me. _Lau._ I’ll offer up a thousand Prayers and Tears. _Fred._ That will not do. Since thou’st deny’d my just Pretensions to thee, No less than what I told you of shall satisfy me. _Lau._ Oh, where is all your Honour and your Virtue? _Fred_. Just where it was, there’s no such real thing. I know that thou wert made to be possest, And he that does refuse it, loves thee least. --There’s danger in my Love, and your Delay, And you are most secure whilst you obey. [He pulls her gently. _Lau._ Then this shall be my safety, hold off, [She draws a Dagger. Or I’ll forget you are my Prince. [He laughs.