They are gone .-- Mark, love, how cheerfully I speak! I can smile too, and I almost begin To understand what kind of creature Hope is.
_Marg_.

Now this is better, this mirth becomes you, John.
_John_.

Yet tell me, if I overact my mirth, (Being but a novice, I may fall into that error.) That were a sad indecency, you know.
_Marg_.

Nay, never fear.
I will be mistress of your humors, And you shall frown or smile by the book.
And herein I shall be most peremptory, Cry, "This shows well, but that inclines to levity; This frown has too much of the Woodvil in it, But that fine sunshine has redeem'd it quite." _John_.

How sweetly Margaret robs me of myself! _Marg_.