Lop. To know whether my love to a lady will be successful.
Bel. 'Tis Aurelia, he means. [Aside.]—Sir, in one word I answer you, that your mistress loves another; one, who is your friend: But comfort yourself; the dragon's tail is between him and home, he never shall enjoy her.
Lop. But what hope for me?
Bel. The stars have partly assured me, you shall be happy, if you acquaint her with your passion, and with the double-dealing of your friend, who is false to her.
Lop. You speak like an oracle. But, I have engaged my promise to that friend, to serve him in his passion to my mistress.
Bel. We English seldom make such scruples; women are not comprised in our laws of friendship. They are feræ naturæ; our common game, like hare and partridge: Every man has equal right to them, as he has to the sun and elements.
Lop. Must I then betray my friend?
Bel. In that case my friend is a Turk to me, if he will be so barbarous as to retain two women to his private use. I will be factious for all distressed damsels; who would much rather have their cause tried by a full jury, than a single judge.
Lop. Well, sir, I will take your counsel; and if I err, the fault be on love and you.
[Exit Lop.