Char. Good Night, and no Rest to you, Brother.
[Ex. all but Bellmour and Diana.
Dia. Till now, my Bellmour, I wanted Opportunity
To ask the Cause, why on a joyful Day,
When Heav’n has join’d us by a sacred Tie,
Thou droop’st like early Flowers with Winter-storms.
Bel. Thou art that Winter-storm that nips my Bud;
All my young springing Hopes, my gay Desires,
The prospect of approaching Joys of Love,
Thou in a hapless Minute hast took from me,
And in its room,
Hast given me an eternal Desperation.
Dia. Have you then given me Vows ye can repent of?
Bel. I given ye Vows! be witness, ye just Pow’rs, How far I was from giving any Vows: No, no, Diana, I had none to give.
Dia. No Vows to give! What were they which unto the Holy Man Thou didst repeat, when I was made all thine?
Bel. The Effects of low Submission, such as Slaves Condemn’d to die, yield to the angry Judge.
Dia. Dost thou not love me then?
Bel. Love thee! No, by Heaven: yet wish I were so happy, For thou art wondrous fair and wondrous good.