no; nothing but the open air will do me good. I'll take a
turn in your garden; but remember that I trust you both, and do not
wrong my good opinion of you. [_Exit_ DOMINICK.

_Elv._ This is certainly the dust of gold which you have thrown in the
good man's eyes, that on the sudden he cannot see; for my mind
misgives me, this sickness of his is but apocryphal.

_Lor._ 'Tis no qualm of conscience, I'll be sworn. You see, madam, it
is interest governs all the world. He preaches against sin; why?
because he gets by it: He holds his tongue; why? because so much more
is bidden for his silence.

_Elv._ And so much for the friar.

_Lor._ Oh, those eyes of yours reproach me justly, that I neglect the
subject which brought me hither.

_Elv._ Do you consider the hazard I have run to see you here? if you
do, methinks it should inform you, that I love not at a common rate.

_Lor._ Nay, if you talk of considering, let us consider why we are
alone. Do you think the friar left us together to tell beads? Love is
a kind of penurious god, very niggardly of his opportunities: he must
be watched like a hard-hearted treasurer; for he bolts out on the
sudden, and, if you take him not in the nick, he vanishes in a
twinkling.

_Elv._ Why do you make such haste to have done loving me? You men are
all like watches, wound up for striking twelve immediately; but after
you are satisfied, the very next that follows, is the solitary sound
of a single--one!

_Lor._ How, madam! do you invite me to a feast, and then preach
abstinence?

_Elv._ No, I invite you to a feast where the dishes are served up in
order: you are for making a hasty meal, and for chopping up your
entertainment, like a hungry clown. Trust my management, good colonel,
and call not for your desert too soon: believe me, that which comes
last, as it is the sweetest, so it cloys the soonest.

_Lor._ I perceive, madam, by your holding me at this distance, that
there is somewhat you expect from me: what am I to undertake, or
suffer, ere I can be happy?

_Elv._ I must first be satisfied, that you love me.

_Lor._ By all that's holy! by these dear eyes!--

_Elv._ Spare your oaths and protestations; I know you gallants of the
time have a mint at your tongue's end to coin them.

_Lor._ You know you cannot marry me; but, by heavens, if you were in a
condition--

_Elv._ Then you would not be so prodigal of your promises, but have
the fear of matrimony be