od a Cause.

_Alon._ Tho you are young, I question not your Bravery; But I must beg
to stay and see fair play, And offer you my Service when you've done.

_Hip._ The Enemy appears, Sir,-- and since you are so good, I beg you
would retire behind those Trees; for if he see us both, since he is
single, he will suspect some treachery.

_Alon._ You've reason, Sir, and I'll obey you. [Goes aside.

Enter _Antonio_ reading a Paper.

_SIR,_

_I do desire you to meet me in _St. Peter's_ Grove, with your Sword in
your Hand, about an Hour hence; you will guess my Business, when you
know my name to be

_Alonzo_._

_Alon._ How's that? [Aside.

_Ant._ I wish't had been another Enemy,
Since from the Justice of his Cause I fear
An ill success; would I had seen _Hippolyta_,
That e'er I dy'd I might have had her pardon.
This Conscience-- 'tis ominous,
But ne'er appears in any horrid shape,
Till it approaches Death--

[Goes forward, sees _Hippolyta_, who justles him in passing by;
he stops and looks.

_Hip._ You seem, Sir, to be he whom I expect.

_Ant._ I'm call'd _Antonio_, Sir--

_Hip._ And I _Alonzo_; the rest we need not ask,
For thou art well acquainted with my Injuries,
And I with thy Perfidiousness. [Draws.

_Ant._ I know of none you have receiv'd from me,
If on _Hippolyta's_ account you fight:
She lov'd me, and believ'd; and what dull Lover
Would have refus'd a Maid so easily gain'd?

_Hip._ Ah, Traytor, by how base a way
Thou wouldst evade thy Fate?
Didst thou not know she was my Wife by promise?
Did not _Marcel_, _Ambrosio_, all consent
To make her mine as soon as I arriv'd?

_Alon._ Who the Devil's that young Bully that takes my Name, and my
Concerns upon him?
[Aside.

_Hip._ But why should I expect a Truth from thee,
Who after so much time, so many Vows,
So many Tears, Despairs and Sighs, at last
Didst gain a Credit with this easy Fool,
Then left her to her shames, and her despairs?-- Come, Sir--
Or I shall talk my self to calmness-- [Aside.

_Ant._ I'm ready, Sir, to justify the Deed.

[They offer to fight, _Alonzo_ steps forth.

_Alon._ Hold! hold! fair Thief that rob'st me of my Name,
And wouldst my Honour too; [Puts her by.
If thou hast wrong'd the fair _Hippolyta_, [To _Antonio_.
No Man but I has right to do her justice.
Or you are both my Rivals-- tell me which,
Which of you is it I must kill--