Esop. What is't? I don't believe I shall refuse you.
Euph. What if you shou'd promise me you won't?
Esop. Why then I shou'd make a Divorce between my Good-breeding and my Sense, which ought to be as sacred a Knot as that of Wedlock.
Euph. Dare you not trust then, Sir, the Thing you love?
Esop. Not when the Thing I love don't love me: Never.
Dor. Trust is sometimes the Way to be belov'd.
Esop. Ay, but 'tis oftener the way to be cheated.
Euph. Pray promise me you'll grant my Suit.
Dor. 'Tis a reasonable one, I'll give you my word for't.
Esop. If it be so, I do promise to grant it.