Sid.  In truth, sir, I think so too.

Sir Per.  She is besides a gentlewoman, and of as guid a family as any in this county.

Sid.  So I understand, sir.

SirPer.  Sir, her father had a vast estate; the which he dissipated and melted in feastings, and friendships, and charities, hospitalities, and sic kind of nonsense.—­But to the business.—­Maister Sidney, I love you,—­ yes,—­I love you,—­and I have been looking out and, contriving how to settle you in the world.—­Sir, I want to see you comfortably and honourably fixt at the head of a respectable family,—­and guin you were mine ain son, a thousand times,—­I cou’d nai make a more valuable present till you for that purpose, as a partner for life, than this same Constantia,—­with sic a fortune down with her as you yourself shall deem to be competent,—­and an assurance of every canonical contingency in my power to confer or promote.

Sid.  Sir, your offer is noble and friendly:—­but tho’ the highest station would derive lustre from Constantia’s charms and worth, yet, were she more amiable than love could paint her in the lover’s fancy,—­and wealthy beyond the thirst of the miser’s appetite,—­I could not—­would not wed her. [Rises.

Sir Per.  Not wed her! odswunds, man! you surprise me!—­Why so?—­what hinders?

Sid.  I beg you will not ask a reason for my refusal,—­but, briefly and finally—­it cannot be; nor is it a subject I can longer converse upon.

Sir Per.  Weel, weel, weel, sir, I have done,—­I have done.—­Sit down, man;—­sit down again;—­sit you down.—­I shall mention it no more;—­not but I must confess honestly till you, friend Sidney, that the match, had you approved of my proposal, besides profiting you, wou’d have been of singular service till me likewise.—­However, you may still serve me as effectually as if you had married her.

Sid.  Then, sir, I am sure I will most heartily.

Sir Per.  I believe it, friend Sidney,—­and I thank you.—­I have nai friend to depend upon, but yourself.  My heart is almost broke.—­I cannot help these tears,—­And, to tell you the fact at once—­your friend Charles is struck with a most dangerous malady,—­a kind of insanity.—­You see I cannot help weeping when I think of it;—­in short this Constantia, I am afraid, has cast an evil eye upon him.—­Do you understand me?

Sid. Not very well, sir.

Sir Per. Why, he is grievously smitten with the love of her;—­and, I am afraid, will never be cured without a little of your assistance.

Sid. Of my assistance! pray, sir, in what manner?

Sir Per. In what manner?  Lord, Maister Sidney, how can you be so dull?  Why, how is any man cured of his love till a wench, but by ganging to bed till her?  Now do you understand me?

Sid. Perfectly, sir—­perfectly.