n here! I hope he did
not listen; I would have the merit of the discovery
all my own, because I would oblige him to love me.
--[_Aloud_] Mr. Martin, who was that man with my
father?

_Arch_. Some recruiting Serjeant, or whipped-out trooper,
I suppose.

_Cher_. All's safe, I find. [_Aside_

_Arch_. Come, my dear, have you conned over the
catechise I taught you last night? {161}

_Cher_. Come, question me.

_Arch_. What is love?

_Cher_. Love is I know not what, it comes I know not
how, and goes I know not when.

_Arch_. Very well, an apt scholar.--[_Chucks her under the
chin_.] Where does love enter?

_Cher_. Into the eyes.

_Arch_. And where go out?

_Cher_. I won't tell ye. {170}

_Arch_. What are the objects of that passion?

_Cher_. Youth, beauty, and clean linen.

_Arch_. The reason?

_Cher_. The two first are fashionable in nature, and the
third at court.

_Arch_. That's my dear.--What are the signs and tokens
of that passion?

_Cher_. A stealing look, a stammering tongue, words
improbable, designs impossible, and actions impracticable.
{180}
_Arch_. That's my good child, kiss me.---What must a
lover do to obtain his mistress?

_Cher_. He must adore the person that disdains him,
he must bribe the chambermaid that betrays him,
and court the footman that laughs at him. He
must--he must--

_Arch_. Nay, child, I must whip you if you don't mind
your lesson; he must treat his-- {188}

_Cher_. Oh ay!--he must treat his enemies with respect,
his friends with indifference, and all the world with
contempt; he must suffer much, and fear more; he
must desire much, and hope little; in short, he
must embrace his ruin, and throw himself away.

_Arch_. Had ever man so hopeful a pupil as mine!--
Come, my dear, why is love called a riddle?

_Cher_. Because, being blind, he leads those that see, and,
though a child, he governs a man.

_Arch_. Mighty well!--And why is Love pictured blind?

_Cher_. Because the painters out of the weakness or
privilege of their art chose to hide those eyes that
they could not draw. {199}

_Arch_. That's my dear little scholar, kiss me again.--
And why should Love, that's a child, govern a man?

_Cher_. Because that a child is the end of love.

_Arch_. And so ends Love's catechism.--And now, my
dear, we'