L. Ful. Hah—does Bellmour live? is’t possible?
Believe me, Sir, you ever had my Wishes;
And shall not fail of my Protection now.
Bel. I humbly thank your Ladyship.
Gay. I’m glad thou hast her, Harry; but doubt thou durst not own her; nay dar’st not own thy self.
Bel. Yes, Friend, I have my Pardon— But hark, I think we are pursu’d already— But now I fear no force.
[A noise of some body coming in.
L. Ful. However, step into my Bed-chamber.
[Exeunt Leticia, Gayman and Phillis.
Enter Sir Feeble in an Antick manner.
Sir Feeb. Hell shall not hold thee—nor vast Mountains cover thee, but I will find thee out—and lash thy filthy and Adulterous Carcase. [_Coming up in a menacing manner to Sir _Cau.
Sir Cau. How—lash my filthy Carcase?—I defy thee, Satan—