Mor. And if Morayma should appear, as she does appear,—­alas! you say, for her and you.

Ant. Art thou there, my sweet temptation! my eyes, my life, my soul, my all!

Mor. A mighty compliment! when all these, by your own confession, are just nothing.

Ant. Nothing, till thou camest to new create me; thou dost not know the power of thy own charms:  Let me embrace thee, and thou shalt see how quickly I can turn wicked.

Mor. [Stepping back.] Nay, if you are so dangerous, it is best keeping you at a distance, I have no mind to warm a frozen snake in my bosom; he may chance to recover, and sting me for my pains.

Ant. Consider what I have suffered for thy sake already, and make me some amends; two disappointments in a night:  O cruel creature!

Mor. And you may thank yourself for both.  I came eagerly to the charge before my time, through the back-walk behind the arbour; and you, like a fresh-water soldier, stood guarding the pass before.  If you missed the enemy, you may thank your own dulness.

Ant. Nay, if you will be using stratagems, you shall give me leave to make use of my advantages, now I have you in my power:  we are fairly met; I’ll try it out, and give no quarter.

Mor. By your favour, sir, we meet upon treaty now, and not upon defiance.

Ant. If that be all, you shall have carte blanche immediately; for I long to be ratifying.

Mor. No; now I think on’t, you are already entered into articles with my enemy Johayma:—­“Any thing to serve you, madam; I shall refuse no drudgery:”—­Whose words were those, gentleman? was that like a cavalier of honour?

Ant. Not very heroic; but self-preservation is a point above honour and religion too.  Antonio was a rogue, I must confess; but you must give me leave to love him.

Mor. To beg your life so basely, and to present your sword to your enemy; Oh, recreant!

Ant. If I had died honourably, my fame indeed would have sounded loud, but I should never have heard the blast:—­Come, don’t make yourself worse-natured than you are; to save my life, you would be content I should promise any thing.

Mor. Yes, if I were sure you would perform nothing.

Ant. Can you suspect I would leave you for Johayma?

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.