Flor. Oh Heavens! this Minute!
[Enter Masqueraders, and pass over. Belv. Oh, do not ruin me! Pedro.
The place begins to fill; and that we may not be observ'd, do you walk
off to St. Peter's Church, where I will meet you, and conclude your
Happiness. Belv. I'll meet you there- if there be no more Saints
Churches in Naples. [Aside. Flor. Oh stay, Sir, and recall your hasty
Doom: Alas I have not yet prepar'd my Heart To entertain so strange a
Guest. Pedro. Away, this silly Modesty is assum'd too late. Belv.
Heaven, Madam! what do you do? Flor. Do! despise the Man that lays a
Tyrant's Claim To what he ought to conquer by Submission. Belv. You do
not know me- move a little this way. [Draws her aside. Flor. Yes, you
may even force me to the Altar, But not the holy Man that offers there
Shall force me to be thine. [Pedro talks to Callis this while. Belv.
Oh do not lose so blest an opportunity! See- 'tis your Belvile- not
Antonio, Whom your mistaken Scorn and Anger ruins. [Pulls off his
Vizard. Flor. Belvile! Where was my Soul it cou'd not meet thy Voice,
And take this knowledge in? [As they are talking, enter Willmore
finely drest, and Frederick. Will. No Intelligence! no News of Belvile
yet- well I am the most unlucky Rascal in Nature- ha!- am I deceiv'd-
or is it he- look, Fred.
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