THE SECOND VOICE. The eyes of a loving woman are marvellous quick to see.
THE FIRST VOICE. Then Love shall comfort her.
THE SECOND VOICE. Yet still must be her dark hours. Is two years so long a time?
THE FIRST VOICE. Too long! In two years she may find a thousand new interests to come between us. In two years she may meet with dashing gallants richer, higher placed, more versed in knowledge of women and far more intellectual than myself, who am but what I am. So, having won her to my love, what folly to let her go—to be wooed perchance by others.
THE SECOND VOICE. O most despicable lover! Will you be content to win a maid through and because of her ignorance of all other wooers better placed than your poor self?
THE FIRST VOICE. Yes.
THE SECOND VOICE. Then is yours a pitiful love, base and most unworthy.
THE FIRST VOICE. No matter—she shall not go!
THE SECOND VOICE. In such a love can be no true happiness.
THE FIRST VOICE. However, she shall not leave me!