Louisa. Hold, sir; did you resemble him, I might esteem, nay, adore you; but as you are, I loath, I despise, I defy you;—you take advantage of my situation!—Hear me, sir,—though not a friend is near,—though night opposes me, and Heaven deserts me, yet can I smile upon your menaces, and make you tremble, villain as you are.
Willoughby. Have a care, madam! another declaration like that, and I'll delay no longer;—I'll force you to my purpose.
Louisa. You dare not, on your life you dare not.
Willoughby. Nay, then—I am not to be terrified by threats,—[Lays hold of her.] all struggling is in vain; this moment gratifies my revenge,—away!
Louisa. Off,—let me go! Oh, help! help!
[As he is forcing her out, enter Floriville, half drunk.]
Flor. "Donne, donne, donne, dow." [Singing part of an Italian air.] Oh, this burgundy's a glorious liquor! hey-day! who have we here?
Louisa. Oh, sir! if you have any pity for an injured, helpless woman, assist one who never knew distress till now!
Flor. Go on, ma'am, go on—both damn'd drunk I perceive.
Louisa. Do not be deaf to my entreaties—do not desert me—