LADY PLYANT. Oh, name it no more. Bless me, how can you talk of
heav'n, and have so much wickedness in your heart? May be you don't
think it a sin--they say some of you gentlemen don't think it a sin.
May be it is no sin to them that don't think it so; indeed, if I did
not think it a sin--But still my honour, if it were no sin. But
then, to marry my daughter for the conveniency of frequent
opportunities, I'll never consent to that; as sure as can be, I'll
break the match.

MEL. Death and amazement! Madam, upon my knees -

LADY PLYANT. Nay, nay, rise up; come, you shall see my good-nature.
I know love is powerful, and nobody can help his passion. 'Tis not
your fault; nor, I swear, it is not mine. How can I help it, if I
have charms? And how can you help it, if you are made a captive? I
swear it is pity it should be a fault. But my honour,--well, but
your honour, too--but the sin!--well, but the necessity--O Lord,
here's somebody coming, I dare not stay. Well, you must consider of
your crime; and strive as much as can be against it,--strive, be
sure. But don't be melancholic; don't despair. But never think
that I'll grant you anything. O Lord, no. But be sure you lay
aside all thoughts of the marriage, for though I know you don't love
Cynthia, only as a blind for your passion to me, yet it will make me
jealous. O Lord, what did I say? Jealous! no, no, I can't be
jealous, for I must not love you; therefore don't hope,--but don't
despair neither. Oh, they're coming, I must fly.


SCENE VI.