Don Ant. But thou hast a good fresh colour in thy face, father; rosy, i'faith!
Paul. Yes, I have blushed for mankind, till the hue of my shame is as fixed as their vices.
Isaac. Good man!
Paul. And I have laboured, too, but to what purpose? they continue to sin under my very nose.
Isaac. Efecks, father, I should have guessed as much, for your nose seems to be put to the blush more than any other part of your face.
Paul. Go, you're a wag.
Don Ant. But to the purpose, father—will you officiate for us?
Paul. To join young people thus clandestinely is not safe: and, indeed, I have in my heart many weighty reasons against it.
Don Ant. And I have in my hand many weighty reasons for it. Isaac, haven't you an argument or two in our favour about you?
Isaac. Yes, yes; here is a most unanswerable purse.