Bel. Turn, Villains!
[Sir Tim. &c. offers to go off, Celinda steps forth, and draws, they draw, and set upon her. Enter Bellmour behind them: They turn, and Celinda sides with Bellmour, and fights. Enter Diana, Bellmour fights ‘em out, and leaves Celinda breathless, leaning on her Sword.
Dia. I’ll ne’er demand the cause of this disorder, But take this opportunity to fly To the next hands will take me up—who’s here?
Cel. Not yet, my sullen Heart!
Dia. Who’s here? one wounded—alas—
Cel. ‘Tis not so lucky—but who art thou That dost with so much pity ask?
Dia. He seems a Gentleman—handsome and young— [Aside.
Pray ask no Questions, Sir; but if you are what you seem,
Give a Protection to an unhappy Maid.
—Do not reply, but let us haste away.
Cel. Hah—What do I hear! sure, ‘tis Diana.
—Madam, with haste, and joy, I’ll serve you.
—I’ll carry her to my own Lodgings.
Fortune, in this, has done my Sufferings right,
My Rival’s in my Power, upon her Wedding-Night. [Aside.
[Exeunt.
Enter Bellmour, Sir Tim. Sham, and Sharp.