Friend.  And so it had, hadst thou not hinder’d me; For I, Sir, was the Man who drew on you.

Bel.  And was it thou that didst defend my Heart, That I might live to pay thy Goodness back?

Cel.  It was to save your Life, and to expose my own.

Dia.  Come, let’s in, and consult what’s best for us to do.

Bel.  Come, my Celinda.  Let us no longer doubt, the Pow’rs above Will be propitious to united Love.

[Ex.  Cel.

Enter Servant.

Serv.  Sir, my Lord Plotwell is at the Door in his Coach.

Dia.  My Uncle come!  Sir, we will not doubt our Fortune.  But how came he to know of my being here?

Serv.  Madam, I fear he follow’d me after I had given him the Letter.

Enter Lord Plotwell, Charles, Trusty.

Lord. Bellmour and Diana kneeling!
                                 [Bel. and Diana kneel. 
—­Rise; the Joy I have to see you thus, makes me
Resolve to grant you any thing, and pardon
All that’s past.

Bel.  Be not so hasty in your Goodness, Sir, Lest you repent as fast.

Dia.  Sir, we have an humble Suit to you.

Lord.  What is it ye can jointly ask, I will not grant?

Dia.  By all that Love you ever had for me,
By all those Infant Charms which us’d to please you,
When on your Lap you taught my Tongue that Art
Which made those dear Impressions on your Heart,
Which ever since to my Advantage grew,
I do conjure you hear me now I sue,
And grant the mighty Grace I beg of you.

Lord.  What is it you wou’d ask?

Bel.  Oh, dress your Face and Eyes in gentler Looks, If you wou’d have us hope for any Mercy.

Lord.  Rise, and whate’er you ask, I’ll freely grant.

Dia.  That you’ll undo that Knot, that ties us two.

Lord.  How! this Request from thee! who lov’d him once, And wish’d no good beyond possessing him.

Dia.  Heav’n has not, Sir, decreed us for each other: 
Something of Fate or Chance
Has otherwise dispos’d those first Resolves.

Lord.  Too virtuous Maid, I know thou dost but feign, His Wickedness has forc’d thee to this change.

Dia.  No, Sir, were he the only Man
Of kind and good, I never wou’d be his. 
—­And if you shou’d compel me, I shou’d live
The infamous Reproach of my whole Sex.

Lord.  Well, and you, Sir, that are the cause of this, What canst thou say to move me for thy Pardon?

Bel.  I am so guilty in your Opinion,
My Prayers wou’d but make you merciless;
I only say Celinda is my Wife,
And I shou’d injure this too generous Maid,
Not to adore her equal to her Merit.