Conspire with Love, had made him rage like Waves
Blown up by Storms:—no more—I know he has
—Oh what, La Nuche! robb’d me of all that I
Have languish’d for—
La Nu. If it were so, you should not dare believe it— [Angrily turns away, he kneels and holds her.
Beau. Forgive me; oh so very well I love,
Did I not know that thou hadst been a Whore,
I’d give thee the last proof of Love—and marry thee.
Will. [The last indeed]—for there’s an end of Loving;
Do, marry him, and be curst by all his Family: