Mrs. Sul. Alas, sir! why should you complain to me of your captivity, who am in chains myself? You know, sir, that I am bound, nay, must be tied up in that particular that might give you ease: I am like you, a prisoner of war—of war, indeed—I have given my parole of honour! would you break yours to gain your liberty? [359]
Count Bel. Most certainly I would, were I a prisoner among the Turks; dis is your case, you 're a slave, madam, slave to the worst of Turks, a husband.
Mrs. Sul. There lies my foible, I confess; no fortifications, no courage, conduct, nor vigilancy, can pretend to defend a place where the cruelty of the governor forces the garrison to mutiny.
Count Bel. And where de besieger is resolved to die before de place.—Here will I fix [Kneels];—with tears, vows, and prayers assault your heart and never rise till you surrender; or if I must storm— Love and St. Michael!—And so I begin the attack. [372]
Mrs. Sul. Stand off!—[Aside.] Sure he hears me not! —And I could almost wish—he did not!—The fellow makes love very prettily.—[Aloud.] But, sir, why should you put such a value upon my person, when you see it despised by one that knows it so much better?
Count Bel. He knows it not, though he possesses it; if he but knew the value of the jewel he is master of he would always wear it next his heart, and sleep with it in his arms. [382]
Mrs. Sul. But since he throws me unregarded from him—
Count Bel. And one that knows your value well comes by and takes you up, is it not justice?
[Goes to lay hold of her.
