MEL. Love, love, downright, very villainous love.
CYNT. And he that can't live upon love deserves to die in a ditch.
Here then, I give you my promise, in spite of duty, any temptation
of wealth, your inconstancy, or my own inclination to change -
MEL. To run most wilfully and unreasonably away with me this moment
and be married.
CYNT. Hold. Never to marry anybody else.
MEL. That's but a kind of negative consent. Why, you won't baulk
the frolic?
CYNT. If you had not been so assured of your own conduct I would
not. But 'tis but reasonable that since I consent to like a man
without the vile consideration of money, he should give me a very
evident demonstration of his wit: therefore let me see you
undermine my Lady Touchwood, as you boasted, and force her to give
her consent, and then -
MEL. I'll do't.
CYNT. And I'll do't.
MEL. This very next ensuing hour of eight o'clock is the last
minute of her reign, unless the devil assist her IN PROPRIA PERSONA.
CYNT. Well, if the devil should assist her, and your plot miscarry
-
MEL. Ay, what am I to trust to then?
CYNT. Why, if you give me very clear demonstration that it was the
devil, I'll allow for irresistible odds.
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