inspired it; but, just now, Leander has declared to me that he is
preparing to deprive me of Celia; therefore let us make haste; ransack
your brain for the speediest means to secure me possession of her; plan
any tricks, stratagems, rogueries, inventions, to frustrate my rival's
pretensions.

MASC. Let me think a little upon this matter. (_Aside_). What can I
invent upon this urgent occasion?

LEL. Well, the stratagem?

MASC. What a hurry you are in! My brain must always move slowly. I have
found what you want; you must... No, that's not it; but if you would
go...

LEL. Whither?

MASC. No, that's a flimsy trick. I thought that...

LEL. What is it?

MASC. That will not do either. But could you not...?

LEL. Could I not what?

MASC. No, you could not do anything. Speak to Anselmo.

LEL. And what can I say to him?

MASC. That is true; that would be falling out of the frying-pan into the