_Lov._ Nay, I'll allow you so yet farther: For I have reason to believe, shou'd I put myself into your Hands, you wou'd increase my Distemper. _Ber._ Perhaps I might have Reasons from the College not to be too quick in your Cure; but 'tis possible, I might find ways to give you often Ease, Sir. _Lov._ Were I but sure of that, I'd quickly lay my Case before you. _Ber._ Whether you are sure of it or no, what Risk do you run in trying? _Lov._ O, a very great one. _Ber._ How? _Lov._ You might betray my Distemper to my Wife. _Ber._ And so lose all my Practice. _Lov._ Will you then keep my Secret? _Ber._ I will, if it don't burst me. _Lov._ Swear. _Ber._ I do. _Lov._ By what? _Ber._ By Woman. _Lov._ That's swearing by my Deity. Do it by your own, or I shan't believe you. _Ber._ By Man then. _Lov._ I'm satisfy'd. Now hear my Symptoms, and give me your Advice. The first were these: When 'twas my Chance to see you at the Play, A random Glance you threw, at first alarm'd me, I cou'd not turn my Eyes from whence the Danger came: I gaz'd upon you, till you shot again, And then my Fears came on me. My Heart began to pant, my Limbs to tremble, My Blood grew thin, my Pulse beat quick, My Eyes grew hot and dim, and all the Frame of Nature Shook with Apprehension. 'Tis true, some small Recruits of Resolution My Manhood brought to my Assistance, And by their Help I made a Stand a while, But found at last your Arrows flew so thick, They cou'd not fail to pierce me; So left the Field, And fled for shelter to _Amanda_'s Arms. What think you of these Symptoms, pray? _Ber._ Feverish every one of 'em. But what Relief pray did your Wife afford you? _Lov._ Why, instantly she let me Blood, which for the present much assuag'd my Flame. But when I saw you, out it burst again, and rag'd with greater Fury than before. Nay, since you now appear, 'tis so increas'd, that in a Moment, if you do not help me, I shall, whilst you look on, consume to Ashes. [_Taking hold of her Hand._ _Ber._ [_Breaking from him._] O Lard, let me go: 'Tis the Plague, and we shall all be infected. _Lov._ [_Catching her in his Arms, and kissing her._] Then we'll die together, my charming Angel. _Ber._ O Ged----the Devil's in you. Lard, let me go, here's somebody coming. _Enter Servant._ _Serv._ Sir, my Lady's come home, and desires to speak with you: She's in her Chamber. _Lov._ Tell her I'm coming. [_Exit Serv._ _To Ber._ But before I go, one Glass of Nectar more to drink her Health. _Ber._ Stand off, or I shall hate you, by Heavens! _Lov._ [_Kissing her._] In Matters of Love, a Woman's Oath is no more to be minded than a Man's. _Ber._ Um---- _Enter ~Worthy~._