Down. But, Sir, I know your wild Lieutenant General has long lov’d my Chrisante, and perhaps, will take this time to force her to consent.
Dar. I own I have a Passion for Chrisante, yet by my General’s Life, or her fair self, what now I act is on the score of War, I scorn to force the Maid I do adore.
Bac. Believe me, Ladies, you shall have honourable Treatment here.
Chris. We do not doubt it, Sir, either from you or Daring; if he love me, that will secure my Honour; or if he do not, he’s too brave to injure me.
Dar. I thank you for your just opinion of me, Madam.
Chris. But, Sir, ’tis for my Father I must plead; to see his reverend Hands in servile Chains; and then perhaps, if stubborn to your Will, his Head must fall a Victim to your Anger.
Down. No, my good pious Girl, I cannot fear ignoble usage from the General; and if thy Beauty can preserve thy Fame, I shall not mourn in my Captivity.
Bac. I’ll ne’er deceive your kind opinion of me—Ladies, I hope you’re all of that Opinion too.
Sure. If seizing us, Sir, can advance your Honour, or be of any use considerable to you, I shall be proud of such a Slavery.
Mrs. Whim. I hope, Sir, we shan’t be ravish’d in your Camp.