ove me from this place. Last night, last night!

_Jaf._ Distract me not, but give me all the truth.

_Bel._ No sooner wert thou gone, and I alone,
Left in the pow'r of that old son of mischief;
No sooner was I lain on my sad bed,
But that vile wretch approach'd me, loose, unbutton'd,
Ready for violation. Then my heart
Throbb'd with its fears: Oh, how I wept and sigh'd,
And shrunk and trembled! wish'd in vain for him
That should protect me! Thou, alas! wert gone.

_Jaf._ Patience, sweet heav'n, 'till I make vengeance sure.

_Bel._ He drew the hideous dagger forth, thou gav'st him,
And with upbraiding smiles, he said, Behold it:
This is the pledge of a false husband's love:
And in my arms then press'd, and would have clasp'd me;
But with my cries I scar'd his coward heart,
'Till he withdrew, and mutter'd vows to hell.
These are thy friends! with these thy life, thy honour,
Thy love, all stak'd, and all will go to ruin.

_Jaf._ No more: I charge thee keep this secret close.
Clear up thy sorrows; look as if thy wrongs
Were all forgot, and treat him like a friend,
As no complaint were made. No more; retire,
Retire, my life, and doubt not of my honour;
I'll heal its failings, and deserve thy love.

_Bel._ Oh! should I part with thee, I fear thou wilt
In anger leave me, and return no more.

_Jaf._ Return no more! I would not live without thee
Another night, to purchase the creation.

_Bel._ When shall we meet again?

_Jaf._ Anon, at twelve
I'll steal myself to thy expecting arms:
Come like a travell'd dove, and bring thee peace.

_Bel._ Indeed!

_Jaf._ By all our loves.

_Bel._ 'Tis hard to part:
But sure no falsehood ever look'd so fairly.
Farewell; remember twelve. [_exit._

_Jaf._ Let heav'n forget me,
When I remember not thy truth, thy love.

_Enter Pierre._

_Pier._ Jaffier!

_Jaf._ Who calls?

_Pier._ A friend, that could have wish'd
T' have found thee otherwise employ'd. What, hunt
A wife, on the dull soil! Sure a staunch husband
Of all hounds is the dullest. Wilt thou never,
Never, be wean'd from caudles and confections?
What feminine tales hast thou been list'ning to,
Of unair'd shirts, catarrhs, and tooth-ache, got
By thin-sol'd shoes? Damnation! that a fellow,
Chosen to be a sharer in the destruction
Of a whole people, should sneak thus into corners
To ease his fulsome lusts, and fool his mind.

_Jaf._ May not a man then trifle out an hour
With a kind woman, and not wrong hi