th.

_Man_. Then that revenge, I meant on Rodorick,
I'll take on you. [_Draws_.

_Gons_.--I draw with such regret,
As merchants throw their wealth into the sea,
To save their sinking vessels from a wreck.

_Man_. I find I cannot lift my hand against thee:
Do what thou wilt; but let not me behold it.
[_Goes off a little way_.
I'll cut this gordian knot I cannot loose:
To keep his promise, Rodorick shall have her,
But I'll return and rescue her by force;
Then giving back what he so frankly gave,
At once my honour and his love I'll save.
[_Exit MANUEL_.

_Enter RODORICK_.

_Rod_. How! Julia brought by him?--Who sent
for me?

_Gons_. 'Twas I.

_Rod_. I know your business then; 'tis fighting.

_Gons_. You're mistaken; 'tis something that I
fear.

_Rod_. What is't?

_Gons_. Why,--'twill not out: Here, take her;
And deserve her: but no thanks;
For fear I should consider what I give,
And call it back.--

_Jul_. O my dear Rodorick!

_Gons_. O cruel Julia!
For pity shew not all your joy before me;
Stifle some part of it one minute longer,
'Till I am dead.

_Jul_. My Rodorick shall know,
He owes his Julia to you; thank him, love;
In faith I take it ill you are so slow.

_Rod_. You know he has forbid me; and, beside,
He'll take it better from your mouth than mine;
All that you do must needs be pleasing to him.

_Jul_. Still sullen and unkind!

_Rod_. Why, then, in short,
I do not understand the benefit.

_Gons_. Not to have Julia in thy free possession?

_Rod_. Not brought by you; not of another's leaving.

_Jul_. Speak softly, Rodorick: Let not these hear thee;
But spare my shame for the ill choice I made,
In loving thee.

_Rod_. I will speak loud, and tell thee,
Thou com'st, all cloyed and tired with his embraces,
To proffer thy palled love to me; his kisses
Do yet bedew thy lips; the very print,
His arms made round thy body, yet remains.

_Gons_. O barbarous jealousy!

_Jul_. 'Tis an harsh word:
I am too pure for thee; but yet I love thee.

[_Offers to take his hand_.

_Rod_. Away, foul impudence.

_Gons_. Madam, you wrong
Your virtue, thus to clear it by submission.

_Jul_. Whence grows this boldness, sir? did I ask you
To be my champion?

_Rod_. He chose to be your friend, and not your husband:
Left that dull part of dignity to me;
As often the worst actors play the kings.

_Jul_. This jealousy is but excess of passion,
Which grows up, wild, in every lover's breast;
But