Upon my soul, madam, said he, seizing her hand, you must not go.
How, sir! said Arabella, sternly.
Not without seeing me die first, resumed he, in a languishing tone.
You must not die, replied Arabella, gravely, nor must you pretend to hinder me from going.
Nay, madam, said Glanville, one of these two things will certainly happen: either you must resolve not to visit Sir George, or else be contented to see me die at your feet.
Was ever any lady in so cruel a dilemma? said Arabella, throwing herself into the chair in a languishing posture: what can I do to prevent the fate of two persons, one of whom I infinitely pity, and the other, obstinate as he is, I cannot hate? Shall I resolve to let the miserable Bellmour die, rather than grant him a favour the most rigid virtue would not refuse him? Or shall I, by opposing the impetuous humour of a lover, to whom I am somewhat obliged, make myself the author of his death? Fatal necessity! which obliges me either to be cruel or unjust; and, with a disposition to neither, makes me, in some degree, guilty of both.