_Cur._ I wish you would recal that hasty Injury; Yet this I’ll bear from you, who know ‘tis false.
_Cur._ You would believe so, Sir, if I should tell you, That besides all this, I have a juster Cause.
_Fred._ Juster than that of _Laura_? call it up, then, And let it save thee from a further shame.
_Cur._ Yes, so I will, ‘tis that of _Cloris_, Who needs my aids much more; Do you remember such a Virgin, Sir? For so she was till she knew _Frederick_, The sweetest Innocent that ever Nature made.
_Fred._ Not thy own Honour, nor thy Love to _Laura_, Would make thee draw, and now at _Cloris’. Name Thou art incens’d, thy Eyes all red with Rage: --Oh, thou hast rouz’d my Soul! Nor would I justify my Wrongs to her, Unless it were to satisfy my Jealousy, Which thou hast rais’d in me by this concern. --Draw, or I’ll kill thee.
_Fred._ I will not stay, now I reflect on all Thy former kindness to her--
_Cur._ I will not fight, but I’ll defend my self. [They fight.
_Cur._ Yes, Sir, and you are wounded. [_Guil._ runs bawling out, they are both wounded.
_Clo._ Oh Heaven defend the Prince! [She peeps.
_Fred._ I hear some coming, go, be gone, And save thy self by flight. [_Frederick_ stands leaning on his Sword.
_Cur._ Sir, give me leave to stay, my flight will look like Guilt.
_Fred._ By no means, _Curtius_, thou wilt be taken here, And thou shalt never charge me with that Crime of betraying Thee: when we meet next, we’ll end it.
_Clo._ Sir, has the Villain hurt you? [She supports him. --Pray Heaven my Sorrows do not betray me now; For since he’s false, I fain would die conceal’d. [Aside. --Shew me your Wound, and I will tie it up. Alas, you bleed extremely.--
_Fred._ Kind Youth, thy Succours are in vain, though welcome; For though I bleed, I am not wounded much.
_Clo._ No? why did you let him pass unpunish’d then, Who would have hurt you more?
_Guil._ Look ye, Sir, there, don’t you see them?
_Gal._ How does your Highness? This Fellow told me Of a quarrel here, which made me haste.
_Fred._ Be silent, and carry me to my own apartment.
_Fred._ No more Questions.-- Kind Boy, pray leave me not till I have found A way to recompense thy pretty care of me.
Enter _Lorenzo_ and his _Page_. Peeps first.
_Lor._ What’s the matter here? the Prince is wounded too. Oh, what a Dog was I to know of some such thing, And not secure them all? [_Lor._ stands gazing at _Guil._ _Guil._ stands tabering his Hat, and scruing his Face. --What’s here? Ha, ha, ha, this is the pleasantest Fellow that e’er I saw in my Life. Prithee, Friend, what’s thy Name?