As if ’twere newly come. Then, off he goes,
Bragging, ’tis an appointment for to-night.
D. To-night?
T.Ay, so he said. But he can’t hide
The truth from me. The fact is this, my lady;
He makes believe. He sees that everybody
Is full of this same love: since ’tis the fashion
He’d be ashamed, just for the lack of a lady,
To come behind. But all the love he makes
Is to himself.