Pop.’Tis true the impeachment
I make of love is that he hath exhausted
His treasure rather than denied us aught.
Oth. Exhausted love! how mean you?
Pop.See! I am made
Of other stuff and passions besides love.
You cannot wish that all my life should move
Pent in this narrow circle, day by day
Keeping the pretty game up which I learned
When I was green: that I should ne’er do else