What is it, pray?
_Isaac_. To marry us, good father Paul; and in truth thou dost look
like the priest of Hymen.
_Paul_. In short, I may be called so; for I deal in repentance and
mortification.
_Isaac_. No, no, thou seemest an officer of Hymen, because thy
presence speaks content and good humour.
_Paul_. Alas, my appearance is deceitful. Bloated I am, indeed! for
fasting is a windy recreation, and it hath swollen me like a bladder.
_Don Ant_. But thou hast a good fresh colour in thy face, father;
rosy, i'faith!
_Paul_. Yes, I have blushed for mankind, till the hue of my shame is
as fixed as their vices.
_Isaac_. Good man!
_Paul_. And I have laboured, too, but to what purpose? they continue
to sin under my very nose.
_Isaac_. Efecks, father, I should have guessed as much, for your nose
seems to be put to the blush more than any other part of your face.
_Paul_. Go, you're a wag.
_Don Ant_. But to the purpose, father--will you officiate for us?
_Paul_. To join young people thus clandestinely is not safe: and,
indeed, I have in my heart many weighty reasons against it.
_Don Ant_. And I have in my hand many weighty reasons for it. Isaac,
haven't you an argument or two in our favour about you?
_Isaac_.
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