Ger. Faith, I can't help it, since 'tis for your sake.—Come, sweetest, is not this our way into the gallery?
Hip. Yes; but it goes against my conscience to be accessory to so ill a thing.—You say you do it for my sake?
Ger. Alas, poor miss! 'tis not against your conscience, but against your modesty, you think, to do it frankly.
Hip. Nay, if it be against my modesty, too, I can't do it indeed.
Ger. Come, come, miss, let us make haste:—all's ready.
Hip. Nay, faith, I can't satisfy my scruple.
Ger. Come, dearest, this is not a time for scruples nor modesty.—Modesty between lovers is as impertinent as ceremony between friends; and modesty is now as unseasonable as on the wedding night.—Come away, my dearest.
Hip. Whither?
Ger. Nay, sure we have lost too much time already. Is that a proper question now? If you would know, come along; for I have all ready.