Heart. I dare not so much as think on't.
Const. But don't the two Years Fatigue I have had discourage you?
Heart. Yes: I dread what I foresee; yet cannot quit the Enterprize. Like some Soldiers, whose Courage dwells more in their Honour, than their Nature—on they go, tho' the Body trembles at what the Soul makes it undertake.
Const. Nay, if you expect your Mistress will use you as your Profanations against her Sex deserve, you tremble justly. But how do you intend to proceed, Friend?
Heart. Thou know'st I'm but a Novice; be friendly, and advise me.
Const. Why, look you, then: I'd have you—Serenade and a——write a Song——Go to Church; Look like a Fool——Be very officious; Ogle, write and lead out: And who knows but in a Year or two's time you may be——call'd a troublesome Puppy, and sent about your Business.
Heart. That's hard.
Const. Yet thus it oft falls out with Lovers, Sir.
Heart. Pox on me for making one of the Number!
Const. Have a care: Say no saucy things; 'twill but augment your Crime; and if your Mistress hears on't, increase your Punishment.