TRESHAM. In a word, Control's not for this lady; but her wish To please me outstrips in its subtlety My power of being pleased: herself creates The want she means to satisfy. My heart Prefers your suit to her as 'twere its own. Can I say more?
MERTOUN. No more--thanks, thanks--no more!
TRESHAM. This matter then discussed...
MERTOUN. --We'll waste no breath On aught less precious. I'm beneath the roof Which holds her: while I thought of that, my speech To you would wander--as it must not do, Since as you favour me I stand or fall. I pray you suffer that I take my leave!
TRESHAM. With less regret 'tis suffered, that again We meet, I hope, so shortly.
MERTOUN. We? again?-- Ah yes, forgive me--when shall... you will crown Your goodness by forthwith apprising me When... if... the lady will appoint a day For me to wait on you--and her.
TRESHAM. So soon As I am made acquainted with her thoughts On your proposal--howsoe'er they lean-- A messenger shall bring you the result.
MERTOUN. You cannot bind me more to you, my lord. Farewell till we renew... I trust, renew A converse ne'er to disunite again.
