Geo. Oh, damn’d, dissembling Jilt! Aside.
Prince. No more, no more, my Soul’s opprest with Joy: let me unload it in thy tender Arms, and sigh it out into thy ravishing Bosom.
Geo. Death, and Damnation!—
I shall forget his Quality and Virtue, forget he was my Friend, or sav’d this Life; and like a River, swell’d with angry Tides, o’erflow those Banks that made the Stream so gay.
Mir. Who’s there?—I heard a Voice—Manage?
Geo. Yes. Softly.
Prince. Approach, thou Confident of all my Joys; approach, and be rewarded— Prince takes his Jewel from his Hat.
Geo. Yes, for my excellent Bauding—By Heav’n, I dare not touch his princely Person.
Prince. Where art thou? take this Jewel and retire. Gropes for his Hand, gives it him.
Geo. E’en my Misfortunes have a sort of Luck; but I’ll withdraw, for fear this Devil about me shou’d raise my too rash Hand against his Life. Exit.