t fail a moment. [Ex. _Alb._
--So this has eas'd my heart of half its Load.

_Lor._ I'll sneak away, for this is some fighting
Business, and I may perhaps be invited a Second,
A Compliment I care not for. [Offers to go.

_Cur._ _Lorenzo_, a word with you.

_Lor._ 'Tis so, what shall I do now? [Aside.

_Cur._ Stay.

_Lor._ I am a little in haste, my Lord.

_Cur._ I shall soon dispatch you.

_Lor._ I believe so, for I am half dead already
With Fear. [Aside.] --Sir, I have promis'd to make a visit
To a Lady, and--

_Cur._ What I've to say will not detain you long.

_Lor._ What a Dog was I, I went not
When he first desir'd me to go!
Oh Impertinency, thou art justly rewarded!

_Cur._ _Lorenzo_, may I believe you love me?

_Lor._ Now what shall I say, Ay or no? [Aside.
The Devil take me if I know.

_Cur._ Will you do me a favour?

_Lor._ There 'tis again. [Aside.

_Cur._ I know I may trust thee with a secret.

_Lor._ Truly, _Curtius_, I cannot tell.
In some cases I am not very retentive.

_Cur._ I am going about a business, that perhaps
May take up all the time I have to live,
And I may never see thy Sister more;
Will you oblige me in a Message to her?

_Lor._ You know you may command me;
--I'm glad 'tis no worse. [Aside.

_Cur._ Come, go with me into my Cabinet,
And there I'll write to _Laura_;
And prithee if thou hear'st that I am dead,
Tell her I fell a Sacrifice to her,
And that's enough, she understands the rest.

_Lor._ But harkye, _Curtius_, by your favour, this is but a Scurvy Tale
to carry to your Mistress;
I hope you are not in earnest.

_Cur._ Yes.

_Lor._ Yes! why, what a foolish idle humour's this in you? I vow 'twill
go near to break the poor Girl's Heart;--
Come, be advis'd, Man.

_Cur._ Perhaps I may consider on't for that reason.

_Lor._ There are few that go about such businesses,
But have one thing or other to consider in favour of Life;
I find that even in the most magnanimous:--
Prithee who is't with?

_Cur._ That's counsel: and pray let this too which I have
Told you be a Secret, for 'twill concern your Life.

_Lor._ Good _Curtius_, take it back again then;
For a hundred to one but my over-care of keeping it
Will betray it.

_Cur._ Thou lovest thy self better.

_Lor._ Well, that's a comfort yet.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III. A Wood.

Enter