’Twas hard to gain, but, Curtius, when once Victor,
Oh, how the joys of Conquest did enslave me!
Cur. But, Sir, methinks ’tis much that she should yield,
With only a bare promise that you’d marry her.
Fred. Yes, there was something more—but—
Cur. But, what, Sir, you are not married.
Fred. Faith, yes, I’ve made a Vow,
And that you know would go as far with any other Man.
Cur. But she it seems forgot you were the Prince?
Fred. No, she urg’d that too,