Ire. Then he has no reason to accuse you of inconstancy.
Erg. Why are you fair? or why has my stars enforced me to love nothing else?
Ire. If your love were considerable, what an obligation had your cousin to your stars? Then these remonstrances of yours are impulsive, and not voluntary.
Erg. I cannot tell; but when I seriously direct them to you, I'll swear I am bewitched.
Cle. Madam, this is repugnant to your other virtues, that you should hate a man for loving you. Before he did profess himself your servant, I know you did receive him with indifferency at least. Whence then proceeds your hate?
Her. From his expression of his love.
Cle. A cruel son sprung from so mild a father, if he did urge you to anything, might blast your honour.
Ire. She would not hear him; and as it is, how much does he oblige her? He's now her servant, and would entreat her to let him be her master; a request strangely modest!
Cle. If I were he, I'd take an honourable composition, let her choose whom she pleas'd for husband, and continue her secret servant still.
Her. You are uncivil.