The Works of Aphra Behn, Volume III by Aphra Behn
page 45 of 771 (05%)
page 45 of 771 (05%)
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_Lord_. I thought thou'dst come about again;
What think you now of Woman-kind, and Wedlock? _Bel_. As I did before, my Lord. _Lord_. What, thou canst not think I am in earnest; I confess, _Frank_, she is above thee in point of Fortune, she being my only Heir--but suppose 'tis she. _Bel_. Oh, I'm undone!--Sir, I dare not suppose so greatly in favour of my self. _Lord_. But, _Frank_, you must needs suppose-- _Bel_. Oh, I am ruin'd, lost, for ever lost. _Lord_. What do you mean, Sir? _Bel_. I mean, I cannot marry fair _Diana_. _Lord_. Death! how's this? _Bel_. She is a thing above my humble wishes-- _Lord_. Is that all? Take you no care for that; for she loves you already, and I have resolv'd it, which is better yet. _Bel_. Love me, Sir! I know she cannot, And Heav'n forbid that I should injure her. |
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