? her Mien and Shape are
strangely graceful, and her Discourse is free and natural. What a damn'd
Defeat is this, that she should be honest now!
[Aside.

_Euph._ Well, Sir, what Answer? I see he is uneasy. [Aside.

_Alon._ Why, as I was saying, Madam, I am a Stranger.

_Euph._ I like you the better for that.

_Alon._ But, Madam, I am a Man unknown, unown'd in the World; and much
unworthy the Honour you do me-- Would I were well rid of her, and yet I
find a damnable Inclination to stay too.
[Aside.
Will nothing but Matrimony serve your turn, Madam? Pray use a young
Lover as kindly as you can.

_Euph._ Nothing but that will do, and that must be done.

_Alon._ Must! 'slife this is the first of her Sex that ever was
before-hand with me, and yet that I should be forc'd to deny her too.
[Aside.

_Euph._ I fear his Answer, _Olinda_. [Aside.

_Olin._ At least 'tis but making a Discovery of your Beauty, and then
you have him sure.

_Alon._ Madam, 'tis a matter of Moment, and requires Deliberation;
besides I have made a kind of Promise--

_Euph._ Never to marry?

_Alon._ No, faith, 'tis not so well: But since now I find we are both in
haste, I am to be marry'd.

_Euph._ This I am sure is an Excuse; but I'll fit him for't.
[Aside.
To be marry'd said you?
That Word has kill'd me, Oh I feel it drill
Through the deep Wound his Eyes have lately made:
'Twas much unkind to make me hope so long.

[She leans on _Olinda_, as if she swooned, who pulls off her Veil:
he stands gazing at a Distance.

_Olin._ Sure she does but counterfeit, and now I'll play my Part. Madam,
Madam!

_Alon._ What wondrous thing is that! I should not look upon't,
it changes Nature in me.

_Olin._ Have you no pity, Sir? Come nearer pray.

_Alon._ Sure there's Witchcraft in that Face, it never could have seiz'd
me thus else, I have lov'd a thousand times, yet never felt such joyful
Pains before.

_Olin._ She does it rarely. What mean you, Sir?

_Alon._ I never was a Captive to this Hour.
If in her Death such certain Wounds she give,
What Mischiefs she would do, if she should live!
Yet she must live, and live that I may prove
Whether this strange Disorder here be Love. [To his heart.
Divine, divinest Maid. [Kneels.

_Olin._ Come nearer, Sir, you'll do a Lady no good at that Distance.
Speak to her, Sir.
[He rises and comes to her, gazing still.

_Alon._ I know not what to say