_Oron._ But, Sir, you have not been so long a Lover; Your Passion's young and tender, 'Tis easy for you to become its Master: Whilst I shou'd strive in vain; mine's old and fixt. _Esop._ The older 'tis, the easier to be govern'd; Were mine of as long a standing, 'twere possible I might get the better on't. Old Passions are like old Men; weak, and soon jostled into the Kennel. _Oron._ Yet Age sometimes is strong, even to the Verge of Life. _Esop._ Ah, but there our Comparison don't hold. _Oron._ You are too merry to be much in Love. _Esop._ And you too sad to be so long. _Oron._ My grief may end my Days, so quench my Flame, but nothing else can e'er extinguish it. _Esop._ Don't be discourag'd, Sir, I have seen many a Man outlive his Passion twenty Years. _Oron._ But I have sworn to die _Euphronia_'s Slave. _Esop._ A decay'd Face always absolves a Lover's Oath. _Oron._ Lovers whose Oaths are made to Faces, then; But 'tis _Euphronia_'s Soul that I adore, which never can decay. _Esop._ I wou'd fain see a young Fellow in love with a Soul of Threescore. _Oron._ Quit but _Euphronia_ to me, and you shall; At least if Heaven's Bounty will afford us But Years, enow to prove my Constancy, And this is all I ask the Gods and you. [_Exit ~Oron~._ _~Esop~ solus._ A good Pretence, however, to beg long Life. How grosly do the Inclinations of the Flesh impose upon the Simplicity of the Spirit! Had this young Fellow but study'd Anatomy, he'd have found the Source of his Passion lay far from his Mistress's Soul. Alas! alas! Had Women no more Charms in their Bodies, than what they have in their Minds, we should see more wise Men in the World, and much fewer Lovers and Poets. [_Exit._ [Illustration] +ACT+ V. _Enter ~Euphronia~ and ~Doris~._ _Euph._ Heavens! what is't you make me do, _Doris_? Apply myself to the Man I loath; beg Favours from him I hate; seek a Reprieve from him I abhor; 'tis low, 'tis mean, 'tis base in me. _Dor._ Why, you hate the Devil as much as you do _Esop_, or within a small Matter, and should you think it a Scandal to pray him to let you alone a Day or two, if he were going to run away with you; ha? _Euph._ I don't know what I think, nor what I say, nor what I do: But sure thou'rt not my Friend thus to advise me. _Dor._ I advise! I advise nothing; e'en follow your own way; marry him, and make much of him. I have a mind to see some of his Breed; if you like it, I like it: He shan't breed out of me only; that's all I have to take Care of. _Euph._ Pr'ythee don't distract me. _Dor._ Why, to-morrow's the Day, fix'd and firm, you know it; much Meat, little Order, great many Relations, few Friends, Horse-play, Noise, and bawdy Stories; all's ready for a complete Wedding. _Euph._ Oh! what shall I do?