Belv. Then I am well—kind Heaven! but set us even,
That I may fight with him, and keep my Honour safe. [Aside.
—Oh, I’m impatient, Sir, to be discounting
The mighty Debt I owe you; command me quickly—
Ant. I have a Quarrel with a Rival, Sir,
About the Maid we love.
Belv. Death,’tis Florinda he means—
That Thought destroys my Reason, and I shall kill him— [Aside.
Ant. My Rival, Sir.
Is one has all the Virtues Man can boast of.