Har. Jun. You have two qualities, my friend, that sort but ill together; as mischievous as hell could wish you, but fearful in the execution.
Fisc. There is a thing within me, called a conscience which is not quite o'ercome; now and then it rebels a little, especially when I am alone, or in the dark.
Har. Jun. The moon begins to rise, and glitters through the trees.
Isab. [Within.] Pray let us walk this way; that farther lawn, between the groves, is the most green and pleasant of any in this isle.
Har. Jun. I hear my siren's voice, I cannot stir from hence.—Dear friend, if thou wilt e'er oblige me, divert the company a little, and give me opportunity a while to talk alone with her.
Fisc. You'll get nothing of her, except it be by force.
Har. Jun. You know not with what eloquence love may inspire my tongue: The guiltiest wretch, when ready for his sentence, has something still to say.
Fisc. Well, they come; I'll put you in a way, and wish you good success; but do you hear? remember you are a man, and she a woman; a little force, it may be, would do well.
Enter Isabinda, Beamont, Middleton, Collins, Harman Senior; and Julia.
Isab. Who saw the bridegroom last?