L. Alas! I thought ’twas love’s excess,
And still I am kissed by rule.
F.And be content, love,
To keep the little rules we make ourselves,
Since thou must break such great ones; and canst dare
Deceive the Countess, disobey thy father,
And brave the world’s opinion: all which sins
I come to stablish in thee. There’s now no choice
But fly with me or take St. Nicholas.
L. That name is desperation. Have you no plan