reason to believe, should I put myself into your hands, you would
increase my distemper.
_Ber_. How?
_Love_. Oh, you might betray me to my wife.
_Ber_. And so lose all my practice.
_Love_. Will you then keep my secret?
_Ber_. I will.
_Love_. Well--but swear it.
_Ber_. I swear by woman.
_Love_. Nay, that's swearing by my deity; swear by your own,
and I shall believe you.
_Ber_. Well then, I swear by man!
_Love_. I'm satisfied. Now hear my symptoms, and give me
your advice. The first were these; when I saw you at the play, a
random glance you threw at first alarmed me. I could not turn my
eyes from whence the danger came--I gazed upon you till my heart
began to pant--nay, even now, on your approaching me, my illness
is so increased that if you do not help me I shall, whilst you
look on, consume to ashes. [_Takes her hand.]
_Ber_. O Lord, let me go! 'tis the plague, and we shall be
infected. [_Breaking from him.]
_Love_. Then we'll die together, my charming angel.
_Ber_. O Gad! the devil's in you! Lord, let me go!--here's
somebody coming.
_Re-enter_ SERVANT.
_Ser_. Sir, my lady's come home, and desires to speak with
you.
_Love_. Tell her I'm coming.--[_Exit_ SERVANT.] But
before I go, one glass of nectar to drink her health. [_To_
BERINTHIA.]