Clar. Well, what do you say about it?
P. Coun. I am shocked.
Clar. Thank God! What do you mean to do?
P. Coun. Alas! what can I do?
Clar. Jack, your honour is already in great arrears with our town, and your conscience does not altogether keep a fair day-book. I ask you, in the name of God, what do you mean to do?
P. Coun. All I can, father!
Clar. If you are in earnest, come along with me; let us go from hence.
P. Coun. Why so soon,--and whither?
Clar. Fly, fly from the brink of destruction. You must not dine here, you must not remain here any longer. You must not marry into this family.
P. Coun. The girl is my good genius. I cannot leave her.