Val. That’s according as the young Stranger and I shall agree—But to our business—I deliver’d your Letter, your Note to Belvile, when I got out under pretence of going to Mass, I found him at his Lodging, and believe me it came seasonably; for never was Man in so desperate a Condition. I told him of your Resolution of making your escape to day, if your Brother would be absent long enough to permit you; if not, die rather than be Antonio’s.
Flor. Thou shou’dst have told him I was confin’d to my Chamber upon my Brother’s suspicion, that the Business on the Molo was a Plot laid between him and I.
Val. I said all this, and told him your Brother was now gone to his Devotion, and he resolves to visit every Church till he find him; and not only undeceive him in that, but caress him so as shall delay his return home.
Flor. Oh Heavens! he’s here, and Belvile with him too. [They put on their Vizards.
Enter Don Pedro, Belvile, Willmore; Belvile and Don Pedro seeming in serious Discourse.
Val. Walk boldly by them, I’ll come at a distance, lest he suspect us. [She walks by them, and looks back on them.
Will. Ha! [A Woman!] and of an excellent Mien!
Ped. She throws a kind look back on you.
Will. Death, tis a likely Wench, and that kind look shall not be cast away—I’ll follow her.
Belv. Prithee do not.