Flor. My father wills so—
Arth. I need not This money—
Flor. Cousin, take it. You are proud. Will you refuse me?
Arth. 'Tis my character To doubt your sex, and yet from you I'd take it, But that I need it not in truth.
Flor. Why doubt us? Ah! cousin, I have heard you have been wild, And so think women false, as you deceive them.
Arth. That you have heard is false!
Flor. I thought so. Now
I could indeed imagine it were true.
Because, perchance, you've lightly won some hearts,
Thus you must be severe and scoff at all,
As if you had good reason!—It is proof
Of an ungenerous mind or scatter'd heart.
Arth. Fair cousin, at your feet I would recant Mine error.
Flor. 'Tis polite, sir, thus to yield All your experience.
Arth. Nay, then! Do you not Believe a man may once love faithfully?