nsider'd her as mere a Woman as I could wish.

_Belv._ 'Sdeath I have no patience-- draw, or I'll kill you.

_Will._ Let that alone till to morrow, and if I set not all right again,
use your Pleasure.

_Belv._ To morrow, damn it.
The spiteful Light will lead me to no happiness.
To morrow is _Antonio's_, and perhaps
Guides him to my undoing;-- oh that I could meet
This Rival, this powerful Fortunate.

_Will._ What then?

_Belv._ Let thy own Reason, or my Rage instruct thee.

_Will._ I shall be finely inform'd then, no doubt; hear me, Colonel--
hear me-- shew me the Man and I'll do his Business.

_Belv._ I know him no more than thou, or if I did, I should not need thy
aid.

_Will._ This you say is _Angelica's_ House, I promis'd the kind Baggage
to lie with her to Night.
[Offers to go in.

Enter _Antonio_ and his Page. _Ant._ knocks on the Hilt of his
Sword.

_Ant._ You paid the thousand Crowns I directed?

_Page._ To the Lady's old Woman, Sir, I did.

_Will._ Who the Devil have we here?

_Belv._ I'll now plant my self under _Florinda's_ Window, and if I find
no comfort there, I'll die.
[Ex. _Belv._ and _Fred._

Enter _Moretta_.

_Moret._ Page!

_Page._ Here's my Lord.

_Will._ How is this, a Piccaroon going to board my Frigate! here's one
Chase-Gun for you.
[Drawing his Sword, justles _Ant._ who turns and draws. They
fight, _Ant._ falls.

_Moret._ Oh, bless us, we are all undone!
[Runs in, and shuts the Door.

_Page._ Help, Murder! [_Belvile_ returns at the noise of fighting.

_Belv._ Ha, the mad Rogue's engag'd in some unlucky Adventure again.

Enter two or three Masqueraders.

_Masq._ Ha, a Man kill'd!

_Will._ How! a Man kill'd! then I'll go home to sleep.
[Puts up, and reels out. _Ex._ Masquers another way.

_Belv._ Who shou'd it be! pray Heaven the Rogue is safe, for all my
Quarrel to him.
[As _Belvile_ is groping about, enter an Officer and six Soldiers.

_Sold._ Who's there?

_Offic._ So, here's one dispatcht-- secure the Murderer.

_Belv._ Do not mistake my Charity for Murder:
I came to his Assistance. [Soldiers seize on _Belvile_.

_Offic._ That shall be tried, Sir.-- St. _Jago_, Swords drawn in the
Carnival time!
[Goes to _Antonio_.

_Ant._ Thy Hand prithee.

_Offic._ Ha, Don _Antonio_! look well to the Villain there.-- How is't,
Sir?

_Ant._ I'm hurt.

_Belv._ Has my Humanity made me a Criminal?