Well 'tis a rare convenient thing to
read a little now and then, as well as hawk and hunt. [Sits down again
and reads. Enter to him Florinda. Flor. This House is haunted sure
'tis is well furnisht and no living thing inhabits it- hah- a Man!
Heavens how he's attir'd! sure 'tis some Rope-dancer, or
Fencing-Master; I tremble now for fear, and yet I must venture now to
speak to him- Sir, if I may not interrupt your Meditations- [He starts
up and gazes. Blunt. Hah- what's here? Are my wishes granted? and is
not that a she Creature? Adsheartlikins 'tis! what wretched thing art
thou- hah! Flor. Charitable Sir, you've told your self already what I
am; a very wretched Maid, forc'd by a strange unlucky Accident, to
seek a safety here, and must be ruin'd, if you do not grant it. Blunt.
Ruin'd! Is there any Ruin so inevitable as that which now threatens
thee? Dost thou, know, miserable Woman, into what Den of Mischiefs
thou art fall'n? what a Bliss of Confusion?- hah- dost not see
something in my looks that frights thy guilty Soul, and makes thee
wish to change that Shape of Woman for any humble Animal or Devil? for
those were safer for thee, and less mischievous. Flor. Alas, what mean
you, Sir? I must confess your Looks have something in 'em makes me
fear; but I beseech you, as you seem a Gentleman, pity a harmless
Virgin, that takes your House for Sanctuary.
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