Aur. Sir, you are an unfit judge of your own merits: For my own part, I confess, I have a furious inclination for the occult sciences; but at present, 'tis my misfortune——
[Sighs.
Bel. But why that sigh, madam?
Aur. You might spare me the shame of telling you; since I am sure you can divine my thoughts: I will, therefore, tell you nothing.
Bel. What the devil will become of me now!
[Aside.
Aur. You may give me an essay of your science, by declaring to me the secret of my thoughts.
Bel. If I know your thoughts, madam, 'tis in vain for you to disguise them to me: Therefore, as you tender your own satisfaction, lay them open without bashfulness.
Aur. I beseech you let us pass over that chapter; for I am shame-faced to the last point. Since, therefore, I cannot put off my modesty, succour it, and tell me what I think.
Bel. Madam, madam, that bashfulness must be laid aside: Not but that I know your business perfectly; and will, if you please, unfold it to you all immediately.
Aur. Favour me so far, I beseech you, sir; for I furiously desire it.
Bel. But then I must call up before you a most dreadful spirit, with head upon head, and horns upon horns: Therefore, consider how you can endure it.