l it, for whilst I hide the Traitor,
I seem to love the Treason too;
I will resign it then, since 'tis less blame
To perish by my Pain, than live with Shame. [Exit.

ACT III.

SCENE I. A Room in _Salvator's_ House.

Enter _Frederick_ and _Laura_.

_Fred._ _Laura_, consider well my Quality,
And be not angry with your Father's Confidence,
Who left us here alone.

_Lau._ He will repent that Freedom when he knows
What use you've made on't, Sir.

_Fred._ Fy, fy, _Laura_, a Lady bred at Court, and
Yet want complaisance enough to entertain
A Gallant in private! this coy Humour
Is not _a-la-mode_.--Be not so peevish with a Heart that dies for you.

_Lau._ Pray tell me, Sir, what is't in me that can
Encourage this?

_Fred._ That which is in all lovely Women, _Laura_;
A thousand Blushes play about your Cheeks,
Which shows the briskness of the Blood that warms them.
--If I but tell you how I do adore you,
You strait decline your Eyes;
Which does declare you understand my meaning,
And every Smile or Frown betrays your thoughts,
And yet you cry, you do not give me cause.

Enter _Maid_.

_Maid._ _Curtius_, Madam, waits without.

_Fred._ I do not like his haste,
--Tell him he cannot be admitted now.

_Lau._ Sir, he is one that merits better treatment from you;
How can you injure thus the Man you love?

_Fred._ Oh Madam, ask your Eyes, those powerful Attracts.
And do not call their Forces so in question,
As to believe they kindle feeble Fires,
Such as a Friendship can surmount. No, _Laura_,
They've done far greater Miracles.

_Lau._ Sir, 'tis in vain you tell me of their Power,
Unless they could have made a nobler Conquest
Than Hearts that yield to every petty Victor.
--Look on me well,
Can nothing here inform you of my Soul,
And how it scorns to treat on these Conditions?
[Looks on him, he gazes with a half Smile.

_Fred._ Faith, no, _Laura_.
I see nothing there but wondrous Beauty,
And a deal of needless Pride and Scorn,
And such as may be humbled.

_Lau._ Sir, you mistake, that never can abate.
But yet I know your Power may do me injuries;
But I believe you're guilty of no Sin,
Save your Inconstancy, which is sufficient;
And, Sir, I beg I may not be the first [Kneels and weeps.
May find new Crimes about you.

_Fred._ Rise, _Laura_, thou hast but too many Beauties,
Which pray