Cor. Hah, new Broils; sure the Devil’s broke loose to night.—my Uncle, as I live! [Mor. pleads between Fil. and Octavio.
Mar. And Octavio! Where shall we fly for Safety?
Cor. I’ll even trust to my Breeches, ‘tis too late to retreat;—s’life, here be our Cavaliers too; nay then, ne’er fear falling into the Enemies hands.
Fil. I, I fled with Marcella! had I been blest with so much Love from her, I wou’d have boasted on’t i’th’ face of Heaven.
Mor. La ye, Sir. [To Octavio.
Fil. The lovely Maid I own I have a Passion for;
But by the Powers above, the Flame was sacred,
And wou’d no more have past the Bounds of Honour
Or Hospitality, than I wou’d basely murder; and were she free,
I wou’d from all the World make her for ever mine.
Mor. Look ye, Sir, a plain case this.
Gal. He tells ye simple truth, Sir.
Oct. Was it not you this scarce past night I fought with here, in the House by dark, just when you had exchanged yours Vows with her?
Lau. Heavens! was it he? [Aside.