Er. Oh Gods, what mean you? hold, Philander, hold.
Phi. Life of my Soul, retire,
I cannot hear that Voice and disobey;
And you must needs esteem him at low rates,
Who sells thee and his Honour for a Tear.
Er. Upon my knees I beg to be obey’d, [She kneels. —But if I must not, here discharge your Anger.
Phi. You are too great a Tyrant where you may.
[Exeunt Erminia and Alcippus.
Phi. Stay, shall I let her go? shall her Commands, Though they have power to take my Life away, Have force to suffer me to injure her? Shall she be made a prey, and I permit it, Who only have the interest to forbid it? —No, let me be accurst then. [Offers to follow.
Alcan. What mean you, Sir?
Phi. Force the bold Ravisher to resign my Right. Alcander, is not she my Wife, and I his Prince?
Alcan. ‘Tis true, Sir: And y’ave both power and justice on your side; And there are times to exercise ‘em both.
Phi. Fitter than this, Alcander?