o you know the Man you speak
of?--

_Hell._ Yes, Madam, he us'd to be in Buff and Scarlet.

_Ang._ Thou, false as Hell, what canst thou say to this? [To _Will._

_Will._ By Heaven--

_Ang._ Hold, do not damn thy self--

_Hell._ Nor hope to be believ'd. [He walks about, they follow.

_Ang._ Oh, perjur'd Man!
Is't thus you pay my generous Passion back?

_Hell._ Why wou'd you, Sir, abuse my Lady's Faith?

_Ang._ And use me so inhumanly?

_Hell._ A Maid so young, so innocent--

_Will._ Ah, young Devil!

_Ang._ Dost thou not know thy Life is in my Power?

_Hell._ Or think my Lady cannot be reveng'd?

_Will._ So, so, the Storm comes finely on. [Aside.

_Ang._ Now thou art silent, Guilt has struck thee dumb.
Oh, hadst thou still been so, I'd liv'd in safety.
[She turns away and weeps.

_Will._ Sweetheart, the Lady's Name and House-- quickly: I'm impatient
to be with her.--
[Aside to _Hellena_, looks towards _Angel._ to watch her turning;
and as she comes towards them, he meets her.

_Hell._ So now is he for another Woman. [Aside.

_Will._ The impudent'st young thing in Nature!
I cannot persuade him out of his Error, Madam.

_Ang._ I know he's in the right,-- yet thou'st a Tongue
That wou'd persuade him to deny his Faith. [In Rage walks away.

_Will._ Her Name, her Name, dear Boy-- [Said softly to _Hell._

_Hell._ Have you forgot it, Sir?

_Will._ Oh, I perceive he's not to know I am a Stranger to his Lady.
[Aside.
--Yes, yes, I do know-- but-- I have forgot the-- [_Angel._ turns.
--By Heaven, such early confidence I never saw.

_Ang._ Did I not charge you with this Mistress, Sir?
Which you denied, tho I beheld your Perjury.
This little Generosity of thine has render'd back my Heart.
[Walks away.

_Will._ So, you have made sweet work here, my little mischief;
Look your Lady be kind and good-natur'd now, or
I shall have but a cursed Bargain on't.
[_Ang._ turns towards them.
--The Rogue's bred up to Mischief,
Art thou so great a Fool to credit him?

_Ang._ Yes, I do; and you in vain impose upon me.
--Come hither, Boy-- Is not this he you speak of?

_Hell._ I think-- it is; I cannot swear, but I vow he has just such
another lying Lover's look.
[_Hell._ looks in his Face, he gazes on her.

_Will._ Hah! do not I know that Face?--
By Heaven, my little Gipsy! what a dull Dog was I?
Had I but lookt that way, I'd known