And let them die with thee. [Pulls off her Vizard.
Will. Angelica!
Ang. Yes, Traitor.
Does not thy guilty Blood run shivering thro thy Veins?
Hast thou no Horrour at this Sight, that tells thee,
Thou hast not long to boast thy shameful Conquest?
Will. Faith, no Child, my Blood keeps its old Ebbs and Flows still, and that usual Heat too, that cou’d oblige thee with a Kindness, had I but opportunity.
Ang. Devil! dost wanton with my Pain—have at thy Heart.
Will. Hold, dear Virago! hold thy Hand a little,
I am not now at leisure to be kill’d—hold and hear me—Death, I think she’s in earnest. [Aside.
Ang. Oh if I take not heed,