re did this Lady
see us? we are both Strangers in the City.

_Alon._ No matter where.

_Olin._ At Church, Sir, just now.

_Alon._ Ay, ay, at Church, at Church, enough.

_Lo._ What's her Name?

_Alon._ Away, thou art fuller of Questions than a Fortune-teller: Come,
let's be gone.

_Lo._ Sure you do not mean to keep your Word, Sir?

_Alon._ Not keep my Word, _Lovis_? What wicked Life hast thou known me
lead, should make thee suspect I should not? When I have made an
Interest in her, and find her worth communicating, I will be just upon
Honour-- Go, go.

_Lo._ Well, go your ways; if Marriage do not tame you, you are past all
Hopes: but pray, Sir, let me see you at my Lodgings, the _Golden Fleece_
here at the Gate.

_Alon._ I'll attend thee here, and tell thee my Adventure: Farewel.
[Exit _Lovis_.] _Pedro_, go you and inquire for the House of Don
_Ambrosio_, and tell him I will wait on him in the Evening, by that time
I shall get my self in Order.

[Ex. _Alonzo_ and _Olinda_; _Pedro_ the other way.

SCENE II. _Ambrosio's_ House.

Enter _Silvio_, melancholy.

_Silv._ I must remove _Marcel_, for his nice Honour
Will ne'er permit that I should court my Sister;
My Passion will admit of no Restraint,
'Tis grown so violent; and fair _Cleonte's_ Charms
Each Day increase to such a killing Number,
That I must speak or die.

Enter _Francisca_.

_Franc._ What, still with folded Arms and down-cast looks?

_Silv._ Oh _Francisca_!
My Brother's Presence now afflicts me more
Than all my Fears of Cruelty from _Cleonte_;
She is the best, the sweetest, kindest Sister--

_Franc._ Ay, Sir, but she will never make the kindest Mistress.

_Silv._ At least she should permit me to adore her,
Were but _Marcel_ away.
Hast thou no Stratagem to get him absent?
For I can think of nothing but my Sister. [Sighs.

_Franc._ I know of one, nor other Remedy for you than loving less.

_Silv._ Oh, 'tis impossible:
Thou know'st I've tried all ways, made my Addresses
To all the fairest Virgins in _Madrid_;
Nay, and at last fell to the worst Debauchery,
That of frequenting every common House:
But Souls that feed so high on Love as mine,
Must nauseate coarser Diet.
No, I must still love on, and tell her so,
Or I must live no longer.

_Franc._ That methinks you might do even in the Presence of _Marcel_.
A Brother is allow'd to love a Sister.

_Silv._ But I shall do't in such