_Mor._ No; but I can expect you would have both of us. Love is covetous; I must have all of you; heart for heart is an equal trick. In short, I am younger, I think handsomer, and am sure I love you better. She has been my stepmother these fifteen years: You think that is her face you see, but it is only a daubed vizard; she wears an armour of proof upon it; an inch thick of paint, besides the wash. Her face is so fortified, that you can make no approaches to it without a shovel; but, for her constancy, I can tell you for your comfort, she will love till death, I mean till yours; for when she has worn you out, she will certainly dispatch you to another world, for fear of telling tales, as she has already served three slaves, your predecessors, of happy memory, in her favours. She has made my pious father a three-piled cuckold to my knowledge; and now she would be robbing me of my single sheep too. _Ant._ Pr'ythee, prevent her then; and at least take the shearing of me first. _Mor._ No; I'll have a butcher's pennyworth of you; first secure the carcase, and then take the fleece into the bargain. _Ant._ Why, sure, you did not put yourself and me to all this trouble for a dry come-off; by this hand-- [_Taking it._ _Mor._ Which you shall never touch, but upon better assurances than you imagine. [_Pulling her hand away._ _Ant._ I'll marry thee, and make a Christian of thee, thou pretty damned infidel. _Mor._ I mean you shall; but no earnest till the bargain be made before witness: there is love enough to be had, and as much as you can turn you to, never doubt; but all upon honourable terms. _Ant._ I vow and swear by Love; and he's a deity in all religions. _Mor._ But never to be trusted in any: he has another name too, of a worse sound. Shall I trust an oath, when I see your eyes languishing, your cheeks flushing, and can hear your heart throbbing? No, I'll not come near you: he's a foolish physician, who will feel the pulse of a patient, that has the plague-spots upon him. _Ant._ Did one ever hear a little moppet argue so perversely against so good a cause! Come, pr'ythee, let me anticipate a little of my revenue. _Mor._ You would fain be fingering your rents before-hand; but that makes a man an ill husband ever after. Consider, marriage is a painful vocation, as you shall prove it; manage your incomes as thriftily as you can, you shall find a hard task on't to make even at the year's end, and yet to live decently. _Ant._ I came with a Christian intention to revenge myself upon thy father, for being the head of a false religion. _Mor._ And so you shall; I offer you his daughter for your second. But since you are so pressing, meet me under my window to-morrow night, body for body, about this hour; I'll slip down out of my lodging, and bring my father in my hand. _Ant._ How, thy father!