Pir. Yet there be rules in virtue, from which all noble
Judgments should take their level, even in love itself.
Des. If it be thought she's too partial in her grace
To me, I shall dispute it, as 'tis question'd.
Pir. I come not to add exceptions, or to make any.
Des. I stand not in so cheap a rank, but that her
Favour may make my services as meritorious
As his lordship's, and can engage as much blood and
Fame for't.
Pir. You know him of a noble breast, and one
That will not flatter weak pretences into truths;
Nor let 'em work with such impressions on his soul,
Did not his honour bleed in't. Sir, I come,
As one that ever honour'd your great parts,
And wish that you could think on't o'er again.
Think how black you must expect that morn to rise
Upon your wishes, when you lead her to the altar;
Where the faint lights with blue and ghastly flames
Will receive ye; and all the things of holy ceremony
Present pale glimmerings to your eyes, to fright your bride
Back unto her first vows. And then, methinks,
Each tear and groan the fair Cleara sends
To overtake ye, should show a speaking fury
To untwine your trembling hands.
Des. No; nor all the squadrons hell can spare
To aid them—though her brother led them on,
And you brought up the rear!
Pir. Sir!
Des. Pish! the meanest thought Claudilla
Pleases to bestow here (under this humble guard)
Must be without the affright (my lord) of all the
Dangers in his muster, stare they like giants
On me, and in armies. As for Cleara,
If she held flattering glasses to her thoughts
Which render'd 'em wide and airy, they must not forfeit
Me. You may deserve her better. I'll not start, sir,
A scruple from his demands and yours. Expect it,
And so farewell. [Going off.
Pir. Farewell.——The time?
Des. I shall think on't.