He's gone, and in this Ague of my SoulThe Shivering fit returns;Oh with what willing haste, he took his leave,As if the long'd-for Minute, were arriv'dOf some blest assignation.In vain I have Consulted all my Charms,In vain this Beauty priz'd, in vain believ'd,My Eyes cou'd kindle any lasting fires;I had forgot my Name, my Infamie,And the reproach that Honour lays on thoseThat dare pretend a sober passion here.Nice reputation, tho' it leave behindMore Vertues than inhabit where that dwells;Yet that once gone, those Vertues shine no more.—Then since I am not fit to be belov'd,I am resolv'd to think on a revengeOn him that sooth'd me thus to my undoing.

'Tis not Belvile, half my fears are vanisht. Pedro Antonio!

Nay, then 'tis with Belvile, for what other Lover have I that dares fight for me, except Antonio? and he is too much in favour with my Brother—if it be he, for whom shall I direct my Prayers to Heav'n?

Fantastick Fortune, thou deceitful Light,That Cheats the wearied Traveller by Night,Tho on a Precipice each step you tread,I am resolv'd to follow where you lead.

VVHen shall I be weary of railing on Fortune, who is resolv'd never to turn with smiles upon me —Two such defeats in one Night—none but the Devil, and that mad Rogue cou'd have contriv'd to have plagu'd me with 47 —I am here a Prisoner—but where—Heav'n knows —and if there be Murder done, I can soon decide the Fate of a Stranger in a Nation without mercy—yet this is nothing to the Torture my Soul bows with, when I think of losing my fair, my dear Florinda—heark—my door opens—a Light— a Man—and seems of Quality—arm'd too!—now shall I dye like a Dog without defence.

I Wonder what shou'd make my Brother in so ill a humour? I hope he has not found out our Ramble this Morning. Hellena No, if he had, we shou'd have heard on't at both Ears, and have been Mew'dmewed up this Afternoon; which I wou'd not for the World shou'd have hapned—hey ho, I'm as sad as a Lover's Lu

Faith child I have been bred in dangers, and wear a sword, that has been employ'd in a worse cause, than for a handsome kind woman—name the danger—let it be any thing but a long siege—and I'le undertake it.