Prove thus much, I pray you.
ASO. Yes, sir; -- pray Jove I can light on it! Here I come in,
you say, and present myself?
AMO. Good.
ASO. And then I spy her, and walk off?
AMO. Very good.
ASO. Now, sir, I stifle, and advance forward?
AMO. Trembling.
ASO. Yes, sir, trembling; I shall do it better when I come to it.
And what must I speak now?
AMO. Marry, you shall say; "Dear Beauty", or "sweet Honour" (or by
what other title you please to remember her), "methinks you are
melancholy". This is, if she be alone now, and discompanied.
ASO. Well, sir, I'll enter again; her title shall be, "My dear
Lindabrides".
AMO. Lindabrides!
ASO. Ay, sir, the emperor Alicandroe's daughter, and the prince
Meridian's sister, in "the Knight of the Sun"; she should have been
married to him, but that the princess Claridiana --
AMO. O, you betray your reading.
ASO. Nay, sir, I have read history, I am a little humanitian.
Interrupt me not, good sir. "My dear Lindabrides, -- my dear
Lindabrides, -- my dear Lindabrides, methinks you are melancholy".
AMO. Ay, and take her by the rosy finger'd hand.
ASO. Must I so: O! -- "My dear Lindabrides, methinks you are
melancholy".
AMO.
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