Char. My Lord, when I demanded her, he said indeed that she was dead, and kill’d by him; but this I guess was the Effects of Madness, which Debauchery, and want of Sleep has brought him to.
Lord. That shall be try’d; go to the Place where Charles has directed you, and do as I command you.
[Ex. Servants.
—Oh, sweet Diana, in whom I had plac’d my absolute Delight,
And gave thee to this Villain, because I wish’d thee happy.
And are my Expectations fall’n to this?
Upon his Wedding Night to abandon thee,
And shew his long dissembled natural Leudness!
Char. My Lord, I hope, ‘tis not his natural Temper;
For e’er we parted, from a brutal Rudeness,
He grew to all the Softness Grief could dictate.
He talkt of breach of Vows, of Death, and Ruin,
And dying at the Feet of a wrong’d Maid;
I know not what he meant.
Lord. Ay, there’s his Grief; there is some jilting Hussy has drawn him in; but I’ll revenge my self on both.
Enter Page.
Page. A Letter for your Lordship.
Lord reads.
My LORD,