Eliz. [To Arthur.] Urge not your suit through me, when she is here.
Give half Love's reasons that to me you gave,
Why she should not be cruel, and I think
You'll hardly find her so—[To Florence.]
Nay! be not scornful,
You know I can betray you—[Goes to the window.]
Flor. Oh, be silent!
Arth. Dear cousin, will you forth to walk? The day Is fine.
Eliz. [Running to the window.] I do protest it has been raining long.
Arth. To-morrow I must leave—
Flor. To-morrow, really? Shall you be absent long? Adieu, then, sir.
[Going.]
Arth. Distraction! I deserve not this unkindness. Florence, why spurn my love thus?—
Flor. Nay, I think But just escaped one brother's persecution, 'tis Too bad another should annoy me.
Arth. Pardon, Madam, my cousin; henceforth I'll not grieve you.