Ma. What if a young Man should fall into an unlawful Love, as suppose with another Man’s Wife, or a Vestal Virgin?  Must she love him again, to save the Lover?

Pa. But the young Man, meaning myself, loves one whom he ought to love, and by Right and good Reason, and yet am murthered.  If Murther be a light Matter, I could indict you for Witchcraft too.

Ma. God forbid, do you make a Circe of me?

Pa. You are more barbarous than Circe herself, I had rather be a Hog or a Bear, than as I now am, half dead.

Ma. By what Sort of Enchantments do I kill Men?

Pa. By the Witchcraft of your Eyes.

Ma. Would you have me take my noxious Eyes off of you then.

Pa. No, by no Means, rather look more upon me.

Ma. If my Eyes are so infectious, how comes it about they don’t throw others I look upon into a Consumption too?  I therefore rather believe the Infection is in your own Eyes than mine.

Pa. Is it not enough for you to kill poor Pamphilus, but you must insult him too.

Ma. O pretty dead Creature! but when must I come to your Funeral?

Pa. Sooner than you think for, if you don’t relieve me.

Ma. Can I perform such a wonderful Cure?

Pa. You can raise a dead Man to Life again with the greatest Ease imaginable.

Ma. Ay, if I had the Grand-Elixir.

Pa. You have no Need of any Medicine, do but love me again.  And what’s easier than that?  Nay, what’s more just?  You can no other Way in the World get clear of the Crime of Murther.

Ma. In what Court must I be try’d?  In the Court of Chancery?

Pa. No, in the Court of Venus.

Ma. They say, she is a very merciful Goddess.

Pa. Nay, the most severe in the World.

Ma. Has she any Thunderbolts?

Pa. No.

Ma. Has she got a Trident?

Pa. No.

Ma. Has she got a Spear?

Pa. No; but she is the Goddess of the Sea.

Ma. But I don’t go to Sea.

Pa. But she has a Son.

Ma. Youth is not very formidable.

Pa. But he is very revengeful and resolute.

Ma. What will he do to me?

Pa. What will he do?  That which I can’t wish to be done to one I wish so well to.  God forbid I should.

Ma. Tell me what it is, for I an’t afraid to hear it.

Pa. Well, I’ll tell you then; if you slight me that love you, and am no Way unworthy of your Love; I shall be much mistaken if he don’t by his Mother’s Order shoot you with a venomous Dart, and make you fall deeply in Love with some sorry Fellow or other, that would not love you again.