r
her.
[In rage to _Dormida_.

_Dorm._ Alas! I cannot imagine who it should be, unless Don _Silvio_,
who has sometimes made Addresses to her: But oh the House is up, Madam,
we are undone; let's fly for Heavens sake.

_Clar._ Oh _Marcel_, can you believe-- [A Noise.

_Dorm._ Come, come, I'll not be undone for your Fiddle-faddles; I'll lay
it all on you, if I be taken.
[Pulls out _Clarinda_.

_Mar._ Sot that I was, I could not guess at this to day, by his Anger at
the Letter I foolishly shew'd him; he is my Rival, and 'tis with him
she's fled; and I'll endeavour to pursue them.
[Offers to go.
But oh my Strength complies with their Design, [Leaning on his
Sword.] and shamefully retires to give them leave to play their amorous
Game out.
[Goes faintly out.

SCENE V. _Changes to the Street. Discovers _Alonzo_ alone._

_Alon._ This Act of mine was rash and ill-natur'd,
And I cannot leave the Street with a good Conscience,
Till I know what mischief I have done.

Enter _Dormida_ and _Clarinda_.

Hah, Ladies from the same House! these are Birds that I have frighted
from their Nests I am sure: I'll proffer my Service to them.

_Dorm._ Why do not you make more haste?

_Clar._ How can she go, whose Life is left behind?
Besides, I know not whither we should go.
Ye Powers that guard the Innocent, protect us.

_Alon._ These must be some whom I have injur'd.
Ladies-- you seem as in distress.

_Dorm._ Oh, Sir, as you are a Gentleman, assist a pair of Virgins.

_Alon._ What's this, a mumping Matron? I hope the other's young, or I
have offer'd my Service to little purpose.

_Clar._ Sir, if you will have the Charity to assist us,
Do it speedily, we shall be very grateful to you.

_Alon._ Madam, I will, but know not where to carry ye; my Lodging is in
an Inn, and is neither safe nor honourable: but Fortune dares no less
than protect the Fair, and I'll venture my Life in your Protection and
Service.
[Exeunt.

Enter _Marcel_ faintly.

_Mar._ Stay, Traytor, stay-- oh they are out of sight,
But may my Curse o'ertake them in their flight. [Exit.

SCENE VI. _Chamber of _Cleonte_._

She is discover'd in her Night-Gown, at a Table, as undressing,
_Francisca_ by her.

_Cleo._ _Francisca_, thou art dull to Night. [Sighs.

_Fran._ You will not give me leave to talk.

_Cleo._ Not thy way indeed, hast thou no Stories but of Love, and of my
Brother _Silvi