SYRUS. I came just in time, Time, that in most affairs is all in all: For there I found a certain wretched captain, Begging her favors. She, an artful baggage, Denied him, to inflame his mind the more, And make her court to you.--But hark ye, Sir, Be cautious of your conduct! no imprudence! You know how shrewd and keen your father is; And I know your intemperance too well. No double-meanings, glances, leers, sighs, hems, Coughing, or titt'ring, I beseech you, Sir! CLIT. I'll play my part---- SYRUS. Look to't! CLIT. To your content. SYRUS. But see, the women! they're soon after us. (_Looking out._) CLIT. Where are they?-- (_SYRUS stops him._) Why d'ye hold me? SYRUS. She is not Your mistress now. CLIT. True: not before my father. But now, meanwhile---- SYRUS. Nor now, meanwhile, CLIT. Allow me! SYRUS. No. CLIT. But a moment! SYRUS. No. CLIT. A single kiss! SYRUS. Away, if you are wise! CLIT. Well, well, I'm gone. --What's he to do? SYRUS. Stay here. CLIT. O happy---- SYRUS. March! (_Pushes off CLITIPHO._) [Changes: _Harper_ Away! quick! don't loiter. _Colman 1768_ Away! quick, quick! don't loiter. _Harper_ CLIT. How! what! Bacchis? Tell me, Where d'ye bring her, rogue? SYRUS. Where do I bring her? _Colman 1768_ CLIT. How! what! Bacchis? Where d'ye propose to carry her, rogue? SYRUS. Where? _Harper_ SYRUS. Oh, she's well instructed. _Colman 1768_ SYRUS. Oh, she is well instructed.] SCENE III _Enter BACCHIS, and ANTIPHILA at a distance._ BACCH. Well, I commend you, my Antiphila: Happy, that you have made it still your care, That virtue should seem fair as beauty in you! Nor Gracious Heav'n so help me, do I wonder If ev'ry man should wish you for his own; For your discourse bespeaks a worthy mind. And when I ponder with myself, and weigh Your course of life, and all the rest of those Who live not on the common, 'tis not strange, Your morals should be different from ours. Virtue's your int'rest; those, with whom we deal, Forbid it to be ours: For our gallants, Charm'd by our beauty, court us but for that; Which fading, they transfer their love to others. If then meanwhile we look not to ourselves, We live forlorn, deserted, and distress'd. You, when you've once agreed to pass your life Bound to one man, whose temper suits with yours, He too attaches his whole heart to you: Thus mutual friendship draws you each to each; Nothing can part you, nothing shake your love. ANTI. I know not others'; for myself I know, From his content I ever drew my own. {_CLINIA and SYRUS apart._} CLIN. (_overhearing_). Excellent maid! my best Antiphila! Thou too, thy love alone is now the cause That brings me to my native land again. For when away, all evils else were light Compar'd to wanting thee. SYRUS. I do believe it. CLIN. O Syrus, 'tis too much: I can not bear it. Wretch that I am!--and must I be debarr'd To give a loose to love, a love like this?