Ant. Sure ’tis some Rival—hah—the very Man took down her Picture yesterday—the very same that set on me last night—Blest opportunity— [Offers to shoot him.
Ang. Hold, you’re mistaken, Sir.
Ant. By Heaven the very same!
—Sir, what pretensions have you to this Lady?
Will. Sir, I don’t use to be examin’d, and am ill at all Disputes but this— [Draws, Anton. offers to shoot.
Ang. Oh, hold! you see he’s arm’d with certain Death: [To Will.
—And you, Antonio, I command you hold,
By all the Passion you’ve so lately vow’d me.
Enter Don Pedro, sees Antonio, and stays.
Ped. Hah, Antonio! and Angelica! [Aside.