Bel. Oh—
[She starts, and pauses.
Let. Where were you now? When this unequal Marriage
Gave me from all my Joys, gave me from Bellmour;
Your Wings were flag’d, your Torches bent to Earth,
And all your little Bonnets veil’d your Eyes;
You saw not, or were deaf and pitiless.
Bel. Oh my Leticia!
Let. Hah, ‘tis there again; that very voice was Bellmour’s: Where art thou, Oh thou lovely charming Shade? For sure thou canst not take a Shape to fright me. —What art thou?—speak! [Not looking behind her yet for fear.
Bel. Thy constant true Adorer, Who all this fatal Day has haunted thee To ease his tortur’d Soul. [Approaching nearer.
Let. My Heart is well acquainted with that Voice, But Oh, my Eyes dare not encounter thee. [Speaking with signs of fear.
Bel. Is it because thou’st broken all thy Vows? —Take to thee Courage, and behold thy Slaughters.
Let. Yes, though the Sight wou’d blast me, I wou’d view it. [Turns. —’Tis he—’tis very Bellmour! or so like— I cannot doubt but thou deserv’st this Welcome. [Embraces him.
Bel. Oh my Leticia!
Let. I’m sure I grasp not Air; thou art no Fantom: Thy Arms return not empty to my Bosom, But meet a solid Treasure.