Har. My love.
Alith. I had his before.
Har. You never had it; he wants, you see, jealousy, the only infallible sign of it.
Alith. Love proceeds from esteem; he cannot distrust my virtue: besides, he loves me, or he would not marry me.
Har. Marrying you is no more sign of his love than bribing your woman, that he may marry you, is a sign of his generosity. Marriage is rather a sign of interest than love; and he that marries a fortune covets a mistress, not loves her. But if you take marriage for a sign of love, take it from me immediately.
Alith. No, now you have put a scruple in my head; but in short, sir, to end our dispute, I must marry him, my reputation would suffer in the world else.
Har. No; if you do marry him, with your pardon, madam, your reputation suffers in the world, and you would be thought in necessity for a cloak.
Alith. Nay, now you are rude, sir.—Mr. Sparkish, pray come hither, your friend here is very troublesome, and very loving.
Har. Hold! hold!—[Aside to Alithea.
Pinch. D'ye hear that?