Lov. I'm satisfy'd. Now hear my Symptoms, and give me your Advice. The first were these:
When 'twas my Chance to see you at the Play,
A random Glance you threw, at first alarm'd me,
I cou'd not turn my Eyes from whence the Danger came:
I gaz'd upon you, till you shot again,
And then my Fears came on me.
My Heart began to pant, my Limbs to tremble,
My Blood grew thin, my Pulse beat quick,
My Eyes grew hot and dim, and all the Frame of Nature
Shook with Apprehension.
'Tis true, some small Recruits of Resolution
My Manhood brought to my Assistance,
And by their Help I made a Stand a while,
But found at last your Arrows flew so thick,
They cou'd not fail to pierce me;
So left the Field,
And fled for shelter to Amanda's Arms.
What think you of these Symptoms, pray?
Ber. Feverish every one of 'em. But what Relief pray did your Wife afford you?
Lov. Why, instantly she let me Blood, which for the present much assuag'd my Flame. But when I saw you, out it burst again, and rag'd with greater Fury than before. Nay, since you now appear, 'tis so increas'd, that in a Moment, if you do not help me, I shall, whilst you look on, consume to Ashes.
[Taking hold of her Hand.
Ber. [Breaking from him.] O Lard, let me go: 'Tis the Plague, and we shall all be infected.
Lov. [Catching her in his Arms, and kissing her.] Then we'll die together, my charming Angel.
Ber. O Ged——the Devil's in you. Lard, let me go, here's somebody coming.
Enter Servant.
Serv. Sir, my Lady's come home, and desires to speak with you: She's in her Chamber.