Aman. Of all my feeble Sex, sure I must be the weakest, shou'd I again presume to think on Love. [Sighing.]—Alas! my Heart has been too roughly treated.
Wor. 'Twill find the greater Bliss in softer Usage.
Aman. But where's that Usage to be found?
Wor. 'Tis here, within this faithful Breast; which if you doubt, I'll rip it up before your Eyes; lay all its Secrets open to your View; and then you'll see 'twas sound.
Aman. With just such honest Words as these, the worst of Men deceiv'd me.
Wor. He therefore merits all Revenge can do: his Fault is such, the Extent and Stretch of Vengeance cannot reach it. O make me but your Instrument of Justice; you'll find me execute it with such Zeal, as shall convince you I abhor the Crime.
Aman. The Rigour of an Executioner has more the Face of Cruelty than Justice: And he who puts the Cord about the Wretch's Neck, is seldom known to exceed him in his Morals.
Wor. What Proof then can I give you of my Truth?
Aman. There is on Earth but one.
Wor. And is that in my Power?