Fri. O, from my Soul, I wish it were no more. But read, read on, see how I’m fetter’d in a Circe’s Charms—I love beyond Imagination, love even to Madness, and must as madly do a Deed will damn me to the hottest Flames of Hell.
Bon. And woo’t thou kill thy Friend for such a Woman?
Fri. Alas! I must, you see I am commanded, commanded too by Love; Love more powerful than all the Sacred Ties of Friendship, therefore draw, and guard thy self.
[Draws.
Bon. Not I by Heaven! What wou’dst thou have me draw and kill my Friend?
Fri. There thou stab’st my Soul. O where, where is now my Resolution fled? A fatal Blast has struck me; a sudden Horror shot me thrô the Heart; a Trembling seiz’d my Knees, that I can hardly stand, and all my Vital Powers methinks seem dead; yet Love’s the Fire must kindle all again, therefore I charge thee draw, or naked as thou art, I will assail thee.
Bon. I am defended against all that thou canst do, in having Justice on my Side, and Friendship too to back it.
But since Humanity now bears so sway,
To this unguarded Breast come make your way.
Strike home be sure. [Opens his Bosom.
Fri. That were a barbarous Murder.
Bon. How can the Effect prove different from the Cause? Or how can any thing but damn’d Barbarity ensue a Woman’s much more damn’d Design? Who wou’d expect Reason from one that raves, or hope for Mercy in a Tyger’s Den? Believe me, Friendly, all this may sooner be; Mercy may sooner dwell among the Savage Wolves and Bears, than in a Woman’s Breast.