And do not ravish this too.
Ant. It is unkind thus to suspect my Love;
Will you make no Allowance for my Humour?
I am by Nature rough, and cannot please,
With Eyes and Words all soft as others can,
But I can love as truly my blunt way.
Hip. You were so soft when first you conquer’d me. [Sighs.
That but the Thoughts of that dear Face and Eyes,
So manag’d, and so set for Conquest out,
Would make me kind even to another Man;