_True_. Yet that's a trifle to the dance; down which She floats as though she were a form of air; The ground feels not her foot, or tells not on't; Her movements are the painting of the strain, Its swell, its fall, its mirth, its tenderness! Then is she fifty Constances!--each moment Another one, and each, except its fellow, Without a peer! You have danced with her! _Wild_. I hate To dance! I can't endure to dance!--Of course You have danced with her? _True_. I have. _Wild_. You have? _True_. I have. _Wild_. I do abominate to dance!--could carve Fiddlers and company! A dancing man To me was ever like a dancing dog! Save less to be endured.--Ne'er saw I one But I bethought me of the master's whip. _True_. A man might bear the whip to dance with her! _Wild_. Not if I had the laying of it on! _True_. Well; let that pass. The lady is the theme. _Wild_. Yes; make an end of it!--I'm sick of it. [Aside.] _True_. How well she plays the harpsichord and harp! How well she sings to them! Whoe'er would prove The power of song, should hear thy neighbour sing, Especially a love-song! _Wild_. Does she sing Such songs to thee? _True_. Oh, yes, and constantly. For such I ever ask her. _Wild_. Forward minx! [Aside.] Maids should not sing love-songs to gentlemen! Think'st neighbour Constance is a girl to love? _True_. A girl to love?--Ay, and with all her soul! _Wild_. How know you that? _True_. I have studied close the sex. _Wild_. You town-rakes are the devil for the sex! [Aside.] _True_. Not your most sensitive and serious maid I'd always take for deep impressions. Mind The adage of the bow. The pensive brow I have oft seen bright in wedlock, and anon O'ercast in widowhood; then, bright again, Ere half the season of the weeds was out; While, in the airy one, I have known one cloud Forerunner of a gloom that ne'er cleared up-- So would it prove with neighbour Constance. Not On superficial grounds she'll ever love; But once she does, the odds are ten to one Her first love is her last! _Wild_. I wish I ne'er Had come to town! I was a happy man Among my dogs and horses. [Aside.] Hast thou broke Thy passion to her? _True_. Never. _Wild_. Never? _True_. No. I hoped you'd act my proxy there. _Wild_. I thank you. _True_. I knew 'twould be a pleasure to you. _Wild_. Yes; A pleasure!--an unutterable pleasure! _True_. Thank you! You make my happiness your own. _Wild_. I do. _True_. I see you do. Dear Master Wildrake! Oh, what a blessing is a friend in need! You'll go and court your neighbour for me? _Wild_. Yes. _True_. And says she "nay" at first, you'll press again? _Wild_. Ay, and again! _True_. There's one thing I mistrust--yea, most mistrust, That of my poor deserts you'll make too much. _Wild_. Fear anything but that. _True_. 'Twere better far You slightly spoke of them. _Wild_. You think so? _True_. Yes. Or rather did not speak of them at all. _Wild_. You think so?