Clara. ’Tis so, for such as can be merry, Mr. Friendly.
Friend. Why not for us my Love, we have a Noble President, and methinks shou’d Imitate (thrô Envy) this their happiness.
Clara. I am not of your Opinion.
Friend. Why not my Fair?
Clara. I’ll tell you, because I purpose not to Marry.
Fri. Prithee be serious, and reform that Thought: Think of my past Service, and judge by that my future; weigh all the respect I have paid you long, and ever lov’d you beyond my self.
Cla. I know your Weakness, and will reward it too.
Fri. I am sure you will, you must be kind; And can you think an Answer of this killing Nature, a just return for all my faithful Love?
Cla. As to that I have already said.
Fri. Oh speak, from whence this Coldness doth arise! Be at least so kind as to tell me that; Is it some late Disgust you have conceived of my Person; or rather your desire, (I fear) of some unworthier, happy Creature, base in the Attempt, as you unkind in thinking of a Change; if neither.