Pis. You may, like those afrighted, by degrees
Allay your sense of terror in the Object,
And then its Power will lesson with your Fear,
And ‘twill be easy to forgo the Fantasm.
Alcip. No, then like the damn’d Ghost it follows me.
Pis. Let Reason then approach it, and examine it.
Alcip. Love is a surly and a lawless Devil,
And will not answer Reason.
I must encounter it some other way,
For I will lay the Fiend.
Pis. What would you have, Alcippus?
Alcip. I’d have fair play, Pisaro.
—I find the cheat, and will not to the Camp;
—Thou shalt supply my place, and I’ll return:
The Night grows on, and something will be done
That I must be acquainted with.
Pis. Pardon me, Sir, if I refuse you here; I find you’re growing up to Jealousies, Which I’ll not trust alone with you.
Alcip. Thou know’st perhaps of something worthy it.
Pis. I must confess, your Passions give me cause,
If I had any Secrets, to conceal them;
But ‘tis no time nor place to make disputes in:
Will you to Horse?
Alcip. Will you not think fit I should return then? I can be calm.