before had fir'd my Soul, but this confirmation of it has blown it
   into a flame. Pedro. Ha! Pag. Sir, I have known you throw away a
   Thousand Crowns on a worse Face, and tho y'are near your Marriage, you
   may venture a little Love here; Florinda- will not miss it. Pedro. Ha!
   Florinda! Sure 'tis Antonio. [aside. Ant. Florinda! name not those
   distant Joys, there's not one thought of her will check my Passion
   here. Pedro. Florinda scorn'd! and all my Hopes defeated of the
   Possession of Angelica! [A noise of a Lute above. Ant. gazes up.] Her
   Injuries by Heaven he shall not boast of. [Song to a Lute above. SONG.
   When Damon first began to love, He languisht in a soft Desire, And
   knew not how the Gods to move, To lessen or increase his Fire, For
   Caelia in her charming Eyes Wore all Love's Sweet, and all his
   Cruelties. II. But as beneath a Shade he lay, Weaving of Flow'rs for
   Caelia's Hair, She chanc'd to lead her Flock that way, And saw the
   am'rous Shepherd there. She gaz'd around upon the Place, And saw the
   Grove (resembling Night) To all the Joys of Love invite, Whilst guilty
   Smiles and Blushes drest her Face. At this the bashful Youth all
   Transport grew, And with kind Force he taught the Virgin how To yield
   what all his Sighs cou'd never do. Ant. By Heav'n she's charming fair!
   [Angelica throws open the Curtains, and bows to Antonio, who pulls off
   his Vizard, and bows and blows up Kisses. Pedro unseen looks in his
   Face. Pedro. 'Tis he, the false Antonio! Ant. Friend, where must I pay
   my offering of Love? [To the Bravo. My Thousand Crowns I mean. Pedro.
   That Offering I have design'd to make, And yours will come too late.
   Ant. Prithee be gone, I shall grow angry else, And then thou art not
   safe. Pedro. My Anger may be fatal, Sir, as yours; And he that enters
   here may prove this Truth. Ant. I know not who thou art, but I am sure
   thou'rt worth my killing, and aiming at Angelica. [They draw and
   fight. Enter Willmore and Blunt, who draw and part 'em. Blunt.
   'Sheartlikins, here's fine doings. Will. Tilting for the Wench I'm
   sure- nay gad, if that wou'd win her, I have as good a Sword as the
   best of ye- Put up- put up, and take another time and place, for this
   is design'd for Lovers only. [They all put up. Pedro. We are
   prevented; dare you meet me to morrow on the Molo? For I've a Title to
   a better quarrel, That of Florinda, in whose credulous Heart Thou'st
   made an Int'rest, and destroy'd my Hopes. Ant. Dare? I'll meet thee
   there as early as the Day. Pedro. We will come thus disguis'd, that
   whosoever chance to get the better, he may escape unknown. Ant. It
   shall be so. [Ex. Pedro and Stephano. Who shou'd this Rival be? unless
   the English Colonel, of whom I've often heard Don Pedro speak; it must
   be he, and time he were removed, who lays a Claim to all my Happiness.
   [Willmore having gaz'd all this while on the Picture, pulls down a
   little one. Will. This posture's loose and negligent, The sight on't
   wou'd beget a warm desire In Souls, whom Impotence and Age had
   chill'd. -This must along with me. Brav. What means this rudeness, Sir
   ?- restore the Picture. Ant. Ha! Rudeness committed to the fair
   Angelica!- Restore the Picture, Sir. Will. Indeed I will not, Sir.
   Ant. By Heav'n but you shall. Will. Nay, do not shew your Sword; if
   you do, by this dear Beauty- I will shew mine too. Ant. What right can
   you pretend to't? Will. That of Possession which I will maintain- you
   perhaps have 1000 Crowns to give for the Original. Ant. No matter,
   Sir, you shall restore the Picture.. Ang. Oh, Moretta! what's the
   matter? [Ang. and Moret. above. Ant. Or leave your Life behind. Will.
   Death! you lye- I will do neither. Ang. Hold, I command you, if for me
   you fight. [They fight, the Spaniards join with Antonio, Blunt laying
   on like mad. They leave off and bow. Will. How heavenly fair she is!-
   ah Plague of her Price. Ang. You Sir in Buff, you that appear a
   Soldier, that first began this Insolence. Will. 'Tis true, I did so,
   if you call it Insolence for a Man to preserve himself; I saw your
   charming Picture, and was wounded: quite thro my Soul each pointed
   Beauty ran; and wanting a Thousand Crowns to procure my Remedy, I laid
   this little Picture to my Bosom- which if you cannot allow me, I'll
   resign. Ang. No, you may keep the Trifle. Ant. You shall first ask my
   leave, and this. [Fight again as before. Enter Belv. and Fred. who
   join with the English. Ang. Hold; will you ruin me?- Biskey,
   Sebastian, part them. [The Spaniards are beaten off. Moret. Oh Madam,
   we're undone, a pox upon that rude Fellow, he's set on to ruin us: we
   shall never see good days, till all these fighting poor Rogues are
   sent to the Gallies. Enter Belvile, Blunt and Willmore, with his shirt
   bloody. Blunt. 'Sheartlikins, beat me at this Sport, and I'll ne er
   wear Sword more. Belv. The Devil's in thee for a mad Fellow, thou art
   always one at an unlucky Adventure.- Come, let's be gone whilst we're
   safe, and remember these are Spaniards, a sort of People that know how
   to revenge an Affront. Fred. You bleed; I hope you are not wounded.
   [To Will Will. Not much:- a plague upon your Dons, if they fight no
   better they'll ne'er recover Flanders.- What the Devil was't to them
   that I took down the Picture? Blunt. Took it! 'Sheartlikins, we'll
   have the great one too; 'tis ours by Conquest.- Prithee, help me up,
   and I'll pull it down.- Ang. Stay, Sir, and e'er you affront me
   further, let me know how you durst commit this Outrage- To you I
   speak, Sir, for you appear like a Gentleman. Will. To me, Madam?-
   Gentlemen, your Servant. [Belv. stays him. Belv. Is the Devil in thee?
   Do'st know the danger of entring the house of an incens'd Curtezan?
   Will. I thank you for your care- but there are other matters in hand,
   there are, tho we have no great Temptation.- Death! let me go. Fred.
   Yes, to your Lodging, if you will, but not in here.- Damn these gay
   Harlots- by this Hand I'll have as sound and handsome a Whore for a
   Pattcoone.- Death, Man, she'll murder thee. Will. Oh! fear me not,
   shall I not venture where a Beauty calls? a lovely charming Beauty?
   for fear of danger! when by Heaven there's none so great as to long
   for her, whilst I want Money to purchase her. Fred. Therefore 'tis
   loss of time, unless you had the thousand Crowns to pay. Will. It may
   be she may give a Favour, at least I shall have the pleasure of
   saluting her when I enter, and when I depart. Belv. Pox, she'll as
   soon lie with thee, as kiss thee, and sooner stab than do either- you
   shall not go. Ang. Fear not, Sir, all I have to wound with, is my
   Eyes. Blunt. Let him go, 'Sheartlikins, I believe the Gentlewomen
   means well. Belv. Well, take thy Fortune, we'll expect you in the next
   Street.- Farewell Fool,- farewell- Will. B'ye Colonel- [Goes in. Fred.
   The Rogue's stark mad for a Wench. [Exeunt. SCENE II. A Fine Chamber.