Alcan. As most Men of my Age.
Phi. And wouldst thou counsel me to such a Sin? For—I do understand—thee.
Alcan. I know not what you term so.
Phi. I never thought thou’dst been so great a Villain, To urge me to a crime would damn us all; Why dost thou smile, hast thou done well in this?
Alcan. I thought so, or I’ad kept it to my self.
Sir, e’er you grow in rage at what I’ve said,
Do you think I love you, or believe my life
Were to be valued more than your repose?
You seem to think it is not.
Phi. Possibly I may.
Alcan. The sin of what I have propos’d to you
You only seem to hate: Sir, is it so?
—If such religious thoughts about you dwell,
Why is it that you thus perplex your self?
Self-murder sure is much the greater sin.
Erminia too you say has broke her Vows,
She that will swear and lye, will do the rest.
And of these evils, this I think the least;
And as for me, I never thought it sin.
Phi. And canst thou have so poor a thought of her?
Alcan. I hope you’ll find her, Sir, as willing to’t
As I am to suppose it; nay, believe’t,
She’ll look upon’t as want of Love and Courage
Should you not now attempt it;
You know, Sir, there’s no other remedy,
Take no denial, but the Game pursue,
For what she will refuse, she wishes you.
Phi. With such pretensions—she may angry grow.