"What! Do you not try to cure yourself?"

"Faith, no. It would be too much trouble to follow a regular diet, and
what is the use of curing such a trifling inconvenience when I am certain
of getting it again in a fortnight. Ten times in my life I have had that
patience, but I got tired of it, and for the last two years I have
resigned myself, and now I put up with it."

"I pity you, for a man like you would have great success in love."

"I do not care a fig for love; it requires cares which would bother me
much more than the slight inconvenience to which we were alluding, and to
which I am used now."

"I am not of your opinion, for the amorous pleasure is insipid when love
does not throw a little spice in it. Do you think, for instance, that the
ugly wretch I met at the guard-room is worth what I now suffer on her
account?"

"Of course not, and that is why I am sorry for you. If I had known, I
could have introduced you to something better."

"The very best in that line is not worth my health, and health ought to
be sacrificed only for love."

"Oh! you want women worthy of love? There are a few here; stop with us
for some time, and when you are cured there is nothing to prevent you
from making conquests."