Better than over-done apprentices.
If a true lover comes whom I can like
As he loves me, I shall not turn away:
As for the rest who flutter round in love,
Not with myself, but with my father’s wealth,
Or with themselves, or any thing but me,
You shall see, Clara, how I’ll play with them,
Till, having kept them on my string awhile
For my own sport, I’ll e’en turn them adrift
And let them go, the laugh all on my side.