Bel.  Thou art that Winter-storm that nips my Bud;
All my young springing Hopes, my gay Desires,
The prospect of approaching Joys of Love,
Thou in a hapless Minute hast took from me,
And in its room,
Hast given me an eternal Desperation.

Dia.  Have you then given me Vows ye can repent of?

Bel.  I given ye Vows! be witness, ye just Pow’rs,
How far I was from giving any Vows: 
No, no, Diana, I had none to give.

Dia.  No Vows to give! 
What were they which unto the Holy Man
Thou didst repeat, when I was made all thine?

Bel.  The Effects of low Submission, such as Slaves Condemn’d to die, yield to the angry Judge.

Dia.  Dost thou not love me then?

Bel.  Love thee!  No, by Heaven:  yet wish I were so happy, For thou art wondrous fair and wondrous good.

Dia.  Oh, what a Defeat is here! 
The only Man, who from all Nature’s store
I found most charming, fit for my Desires;
And now after a thousand Expectations,
Such as all Maids that love like me do hope,
Just ready for the highest Joys of Love! 
Then to be met thus cold—­nay, worse, with scorn. [Aside. 
—­Why, since you could not love me, did you marry me?

Bel.  Because I was a Beast, a very Villain!  That stak’d a wretched Fortune to all my Joys of Life, And like a prodigal Gamester lost that all.

Dia.  How durst you, Sir, knowing my Quality, Return me this false Pay, for Love so true?  Was this a Beauty, Sir, to be neglected?

Bel.  Fair angry Maid, frown on, frown till you kill,
And I shall dying bless those Eyes that did so. 
For shou’d I live, I shou’d deprive the happier World
Of Treasures, I’m too wretched to possess. 
And were’t not pity that vast store of Beauty
Shou’d, like rich Fruit, die on the yielding Boughs?

Dia.  And are you then resolved to be a Stranger to me?

Bel.  For ever! for a long Eternity!

Dia.  O thou’st undone me then; hast thou found out A Maid more fair, more worthy of thy Love?  Look on me well.

Bel.  I have consider’d thee,
And find no Blemish in thy Soul, or Form;
Thou art all o’er Divine, yet I must hate thee,
Since thou hast drawn me to a mortal Sin,
That cannot be forgiven by Men, or Heaven. 
—­Oh, thou hast made me break a Vow, Diana,
A sacred solemn Vow;
And made me wrong the sweetest Innocence,
That ever blest the Earth.

Dia.  Instead of cooling this augments my Fire;
No Pain is like defeated new Desire. [Aside. 
’Tis false, or but to try my Constancy. 
Your Mistress is not so divine as I,
And shou’d I, ’gainst himself, believe the Man
Who first inspir’d my Heart with Love’s soft Flame?

Bel.  What Bliss on me insensibly you throw! 
I’d rather hear thee swear, thou art my Foe,
And like some noble and romantick Maid
With Poniards wou’d my stubborn Heart invade;
And whilst thou dost the faithful Relique tear,
In every Vein thoud’st find Celinda there.