Thou dost meditate-- I know it--flight. Give me some pause for thought, But to confirm a mind almost made up. If in an hour thou hearest not from me, then Think me a friend far better lost than won! Wilt thou do this? _Lydia_. I will. _Wal_. An hour decides. [They go out severally.] SCENE II.--A Room in Sir William Fondlove's House. [Enter WILDRAKE and TRUEWORTH.] _Wild_. You are not angry? _True_. No; I knew the service I sent you on was one of danger. _Wild_. Thank you. Most kind you are--And you believe she loves me: And your own hopes give up to favour mine. Was ever known such kindness! Much I fear 'Twill cost you. _True_. Never mind! I'll try and bear it. _Wild_. That's right. No use in yielding to a thing. Resolve does wonders! Shun the sight of her-- See other women!--Fifty to be found As fair as she. _True_. I doubt it. _Wild_. Doubt it not. Doubt nothing that gives promise of a care. Right handsome dames there are in Lancashire, Whence called their women, witches!--witching things! I know a dozen families in which You'd meet a courtesy worthy of a bow. I'll give you letters to them. _True_. Will you? _Wild_. Yes. _True_. The worth of a disinterested friend! _Wild_. O Master Trueworth, deeply I'm your debtor! I own I die for love of neighbour Constance! And thou to give her up for me! Kind friend! What won't I do for thee?--Don't pine to death; I'll find thee fifty ways to cure thy passion, And make thee heart-whole, if thou'rt so resolved. Thou shalt be master of my sporting stud, And go a hunting. If that likes thee not, Take up thy quarters at my shooting-lodge; There is a cellar to 't--make free with it. I'll thank thee if thou emptiest it. The song Gives out that wine feeds love--It drowns it, man! If thou wilt neither hunt nor shoot, try games; Play at loggats, bowls, fives, dominoes, draughts, cribbage, Backgammon--special recipes for love! And you believe, for all the hate she shows, That neighbour Constance loves me? _True_. 'Tis my thought. _Wild_. How shall I find it out? _True_. Affect to love Another. Say your passion thrives; the day Is fixed; and pray her undertake the part Of bridemaid to your bride. 'Twill bring her out. _Wild_. You think she'll own her passion? _True_. If she loves. _Wild_. I thank thee! I will try it! Master Trueworth, What shall I say to thee, to give her up, And love her so? _True_. Say nothing.