Ant. I am mortified sufficiently already, without the help of his ghostly counsel. Fear of death has gone farther with me in two minutes, than my conscience would have gone in two months. I find myself in a very dejected condition, all over me; poor sin lies dormant; concupiscence is retired to his winter-quarters; and if Morayma should now 377 appear,—I say no more; but, alas for her and me!
[Morayma comes out of the Arbour, she steals behind him, and claps him on the Back.
Mor. And if Morayma should appear, as she does appear,—alas! you say, for her and you.
Ant. Art thou there, my sweet temptation! my eyes, my life, my soul, my all!
Mor. A mighty compliment! when all these, by your own confession, are just nothing.
Ant. Nothing, till thou camest to new create me; thou dost not know the power of thy own charms: Let me embrace thee, and thou shalt see how quickly I can turn wicked.
Mor. [Stepping back.] Nay, if you are so dangerous, it is best keeping you at a distance, I have no mind to warm a frozen snake in my bosom; he may chance to recover, and sting me for my pains.
Ant. Consider what I have suffered for thy sake already, and make me some amends; two disappointments in a night: O cruel creature!
Mor. And you may thank yourself for both. I came eagerly to the charge before my time, through the back-walk behind the arbour; and you, like a fresh-water soldier, stood guarding the pass before. If you missed the enemy, you may thank your own dulness.
Ant. Nay, if you will be using stratagems, you shall give me leave to make use of my advantages, now I have you in my power: we are fairly met; I'll try it out, and give no quarter.
Mor. By your favour, sir, we meet upon treaty now, and not upon defiance.