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.

_Sir Per._ Vary weel.--Now then, my very guid friend, guin you wou'd but
give him that hint, and take an opportunity to speak a guid word for him
till the wench;--and guin you wou'd likewise cast about a little