Lady Am. Why wouldst vex thy father, and quit thy school.
Rover. "A truant disposition, good my lady, brought me from Wirtemberg."
Lady Am. Thy father designs thee for his dangerous profession; but is thy inclination turned to the voice of trumpets, and smites of mighty slaughter?
Rover. "Why, ma'am, as for old Boreas, my dad, when the blast of war blows in his ears, he's a tyger in his fierce resentment."—But for me, "I think it a pity, so it is, that villainous saltpetre should be digg'd out of the bowels of the harmless earth, which many a good tall fellow has destroyed, with wounds and guns, and drums, Heav'n save the mark!"
Lady Am. Indeed thou art tall, my cousin, and grown of comely stature. Our families have long been separated.
Rover. They have—Since Adam, I believe—[Aside.] "Then, lady, let that sweet bud of love now ripen to a beauteous flower?"
Lady Am. Love!
Rover. "Excellent wench! perdition catch my soul, but I do love thee, and when I love thee not, chaos is come again."
Lady Am. Thou art of an happy disposition.
Rover. "If I were now to die, 'twere now to be most happy." "Let our senses dance in concert to the joyful minutes, and this, and this, the only discord make." [Embracing.