Dorothy. He? never! You forget, you forget whom you defy; you run upon your death.
Anthony. Ah, my girl, you should have thought of that before. It is too late now.
Dorothy. Anthony, if I beg you—Anthony, I have tried to be a good sister; I brought you up, dear, nursed you when you were sick, fought for you, hoped for you, loved you—think of it, think of the dear past, think of our home and the happy winter nights, the castles in the fire, the long shining future, the love that was to forgive and suffer always—O you will spare, you will spare me this.
Anthony. I will tell you what I will do, Dolly: I will do just what you taught me—my duty: that, and nothing else.
Dorothy. O Anthony, you also, you to strike me! Heavens, shall I kill them—I—I, that love them, kill them! Miserable, sinful girl! George, George, thank God, you will be far away! O go, George, go at once!
Anthony. He goes, the coward! Ay, is this more of your contrivance? Madam, you make me blush. But to-day at least I know where I can find him. This afternoon, on the Pantiles, he must dance attendance on the Duke of York. Already he must be there; and there he is at my mercy.
Dorothy. Thank God, you are deceived: he will not fight. He promised me that; thank God, I have his promise for that.
Anthony. Promise! Do you see this? (producing necklace) the thing he bribed your maid with? I shall dash it in his teeth before the Duke and before all Tunbridge. Promise, you poor fool? what promise holds against a blow? Get to your knees and pray for him; for, by the God above, if he has any blood in his body, one of us shall die before to-night. (He goes out.)
Dorothy. Anthony, Anthony!... O my God, George will kill him.
(Music: “Chè farò” as the drop falls.)