Oron. Your Euphronia! Sir——
Esop. The Goose——take heed——
Were any Thing, I say, at Stake but her,
Your Plea wou'd be too strong to be refus'd.
But our Debate's about a Lady, Sir,
That's young, that's beautiful, that's made for Love.
----So am not I, you'll say: But you're mistaken;
I'm made to love, tho' not to be belov'd.
I have a Heart like yours; I've Folly too:
I've every Instrument of Love like others.
Oron. But, Sir, you have not been so long a Lover;
Your Passion's young and tender,
'Tis easy for you to become its Master:
Whilst I shou'd strive in vain; mine's old and fixt.
Esop. The older 'tis, the easier to be govern'd; Were mine of as long a standing, 'twere possible I might get the better on't. Old Passions are like old Men; weak, and soon jostled into the Kennel.
Oron. Yet Age sometimes is strong, even to the Verge of Life.
Esop. Ah, but there our Comparison don't hold.
Oron. You are too merry to be much in Love.
Esop. And you too sad to be so long.
Oron. My grief may end my Days, so quench my Flame, but nothing else can e'er extinguish it.
Esop. Don't be discourag'd, Sir, I have seen many a Man outlive his Passion twenty Years.