Bri. I have been told (would I had ne'er believ'd them) By other cozeners than my flattering glass, That nature in a kind and lavish mood Endow'd my fair exterior, and men's tongues Mont. With general speech our sex. Bri. Tax not thus Oh! you all Worship the trick'd out image of your fancies, In which your wond'rous goddess is inshrined, Am culpable. I might have lov'd more wisely, Of wives who, slighted by ungrateful lords, Look for some friend to do them ample justice. Bri. Have I a friend like this? Mont. Behold him here. (Kneels.) Nay, turn not thus away, nor fill those eyes With scorn, whose beams alone bring comfort to me: Think with what ardent longing I have lov'd; How I have spent the day in thinking of thee, Bri. Is thy friend, Thy unsuspecting, gen'rous, trusting friend, Whom thou would'st meanly take advantage of, To stab his honour. Mont. True, he is my friend; But what is friendship when compar'd to love? Love is omnipotent, and rends the seal Even from the bond of friendship; in itself Absorbing every other faculty: Come then, nor coy it thus 'gainst nature's mood, And let me press thee warm and panting to me. Mont. You mean it not. eye * There is a kind confession in thine * These lines were transferred to The Curfew. Bri. (Breaks from him.) Villain, thou liest; my burning cheek is red At thine ill-manner'd speeches, and mine eye, Your bacchanalian rudeness? Doubt not, my lord, your unsuspicious friend, Your friend shall know from what most worthy motives And whilst you feel how pitifully low, Vice can debase the most exalted rank, [Exit BRIANTHE; MONTANO follows. Scene, the Street. Enter VALLETORT. Why what a wretch am I? The needy villain Beggars his family and blasts at once That human vengeance cannot chain him down, My friend to shun me too - that is not well. [Exit. Mont. Yes, blood must flow, but whose blood? Oh! Vasquez, Art thou indeed a friend, or is thy zeal Hollow as exhalations of the morn? Vasq. What means my lord? Mont. To night he revels with that shrew Rodone, From whom returning he must chuse his road Thro' many a lonely and untravell❜d spot Suited to acts of darkness. Heed'st thou me? Vasq. Most earnestly. Mont. Oh, Vasquez! there are deeds Which will not bear the piercing eye of day, Vasq. Go on, go on! Mont. Psha! or thy sense is dull, or thy will slow To execute. Have I not said enough? In the still hour of night, when justice sleeps, Vengeance from some dark ambush'd lurking place Might steal abroad his arm, as I do now, (Drawing a dagger.} And stab securely. Art thou now my friend, Vasq. Speak out your purpose. Mont. Then briefly thus this Valletort's my foe, And I would have him Vasq. Mont. Murder'd! Yes, by thee. Vasq. Murder'd by me, oh, horrible! the thought Like thick besieging agues shakes me thro'. Mont. Base palpitating villain ! Vasq. And then condemn me. Mont. Hear me first, Hear thee, coward slave! What need to hear thee? thy pale quiv'ring lip, |