Am. Indeed, Alcander, no, ‘tis simple truth:
Then for your bouncing Mistress, long Brunetta,
O that majestick Garb, ‘tis strangely taking,
That scornful Look, and Eyes that strike all dead
That stand beneath them.
Alcander, I have none of all these Charms:
But well, you say you love me; could you be
Content to dismiss these petty sharers in your Heart,
And give it all to me; on these conditions
I may do much.
Alcan. Aminta, more perhaps than I may like.
Am. Do not fear that, Alcander.
Alcan. Your Jealousy incourages that Fear.
Am. If I be so, I’m the fitter for your humour.
Alcan. That’s another reason for my fears; that ill-Luck owes us a spite, and will be sure to pay us with loving one another, a thought I dread. Farewel, Aminta; when I can get loose from Ardelia, I may chance wait on you, till then your own Pride be your Companion.
[Holds him.
Am. Nay, you shall not go, Alcander.
Alcan. Fy on’t, those Looks have lost their wonted Force,
I knew you’d call me back to smile upon me,
And then you have me sure; no, no, Aminta,
I’ll no more of that. [Goes out.