Never have I seen you looking more rosy, more hearty.
HAR. Are you in earnest?
FRO. Why! you have never been so young in your life; and I know many a
man of twenty-five who looks much older than you do.
HAR. And yet, Frosine, I have passed threescore.
FRO. Threescore! Well, and what then? You don't mean to make a trouble
of that, do you? It's the very flower of manhood, the threshold of the
prime of life.
HAR. True; but twenty years less would do me no harm, I think.
FRO. Nonsense! You've no need of that, and you are of a build to last
out a hundred.
HAR. Do you really think so?
FRO. Decidedly. You have all the appearance of it. Hold yourself up a
little. Ah! what a sign of long life is that line there straight
between your two eyes!
HAR. You know all about that, do you?
FRO. I should think I do. Show me your hand. [Footnote: Frosine
professes a knowledge of palmistry.] Dear me, what a line of life
there is there!
HAR. Where?
FRO. Don't you see how far this line goes?
HAR. Well, and what does it mean?
FRO. What does it mean? There ... I said a hundred years; but no, it
is one hundred and twenty I ought to have said.
HAR. Is it possible?
FRO. I tell you they will have to kill you, and you will bury your
children and your children's children.
HAR. So much the better! And what news of our affair?
FRO.
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