Why I could sin all day! But tell me, love,
Is this great fault that I’m committing now,
The kind of fault that only serves to show
That thou and I are of one common kin?
Pyg. Indeed, I’m very much afraid it is.
Gal. And dost thou love me better for such fault?
Pyg. Where is the mortal that could answer “no”?
Gal. Why then I’m satisfied, Pygmalion;
Thy wife and I can start on equal terms.
She loves thee?