y Eyes declin'd,
I bow my Head down, for the last sad Blow.
[_Stands bow'd_.

_Cel_. Sir, in Obedience to your Commands,
I've brought the Lady.

_Dia_. How! The perfidious _Bellmour_!
The only Object of my Hate and Scorn.

_Bel_. Say on, my angry Deity-- [_Kneels_.
Whilst I thus trembling hear my fatal Doom,
Like Sinners, conscious ne'er to be forgiven,
I dare not lift my guilty Eyes towards Heaven.

_Cel_. Can I hear this, and yet retain my Life?

_Dia_. Had I but two days since beheld this Youth
Thus prostrate at my Feet, I should have thought
My self more blest,
Than to have been that Deity he calls me.

_Enter_ Friendlove.

_Friend_. Defend me! The Traitor here! And at _Diana's_ Feet!
The fittest Altar for my Sacrifice!
--Turn, turn, from what thou lov'st, and meet my Justice.

_Cel_. Oh, hold, my dearest Brother.

[Bellmour _rises, and turns about_.

_Bel_. Nay, now I'm ready for the welcome Sword,
Since my _Celinda's_ false, and cannot pardon.

_Cel_. Oh, do not die with that profane Opinion.
_Celinda_ false! or cannot pardon thee!

_Dia_. Stay, generous Sir, my Pity has forgiven him.

_Bel_. Thou! Why, who art thou--_Diana_?

_Dia_. Yes, that _Diana_,
Whom, maugre all the Penitence thou shew'st,
Can scarce forgive the Injuries thou hast done her.

_Bel_. I shew a Penitence for injuring thee!
By Heav'n, I never cou'd do one, or other;
All that I am is the divine _Celinda's_.

_Friend_. He's stark mad! [_Aside_.

_Bel_. But since she cannot pardon, I can die.
[_Offers to fall on his Sword_.

_Cel_. Canst thou not credit me? She pardons thee.
Live--and enjoy--_Diana_.
[_Turns her Face from him_.

_Bel_. What art thou, who know'st her Heart so well?
Art thou my Rival? the blessed Youth, to whom
She has given her Vows?--Live, and enjoy, _Diana_!
--Yes, yes, thou art my Rival, and I'll kill thee.

_Cel_. Do, whilst I meet thy Sword.

[_Opens her Arms_, Diana _stays him; he lets fall
his Sword, and gazes_.

_Bel_, Dull--dull Adorer! Not to know my Saint.
Oh, how I have profan'd! To what strange Idol
Was that I kneel'd,
Mistaking it for a Divinity?

_Cel_. To your fair Wife _Diana_.

_Bel_. Oh cruel Maid!
Has Heav'n design'd me any but _Celinda_?

_Dia_. Maid! Bless me!--did I then love a Woman?
--I am pleas'd thou should'st renounce me; make it good,
And se