[An Apartment. Lady Dinah, and Mr. Hargrave, sitting.]
Mr. H.
I am surprised Lady Dinah at your thinking to this manner.
When I spoke to my Son this morning, I assure you he
expressed a great deal of Satisfaction about the
affair—I wonder indeed he has not been here.
Lady D.
Now, I almost blame you, Mr. Hargrave—pardon me—but
you have certainly been too precipitate; your Son has
scarcely been at home four and twenty hours, and cannot
possibly have received any Impression! or formed an Idea of
my Character.—He has been—I must say too—so
much engaged with other persons, that I have had no
opportunity of conversing with him; and how, so
circumstanced, can he have formed a Judgement of his own
Heart?
Mr. H.
Why—he has given the best proof in the world that he
has formed a Judgement, for he told me, this morning, that
the prospect of the union made him quite happy! I dont know
what other proof a man can give that he knows his own
heart;—and let me tell you, Madam, I have accustomed my
children to pay a proper regard to my Inclinations!
Lady D.
I am apprehensive, Sir, that Mr. George Hargrave's Obedience
may influence him more than I could exactly wish. And, I
assure you, I cannot think of uniting myself to any man, who
does not prefer me for my own sake.
Mr. H.
His Obedience to me influence him more than you could wish!
Why really I dont understand you my Lady—[Aside.
Zooks! I thought she had been a sensible woman.]
Lady D.
Not understand me Mr. Hargrave! I have too high an
opinion of your Good Sense, to suppose that I can be
unintelligible to you!
Mr. H.
My opinion is that an obedient Son is likely to make a kind
husband. George is a fine young fellow as any in England, as
I have often told you; and there's not a woman in the
kingdom, who might not be proud to call him her
husband.—Too obedient!
Lady D.
[Aside. Bless me! this man has no Ideas!] You
mistake me, Mr. Hargrave; I do not mean to lessen the Merit
of Obedience—but—I confess—I wish him to have
a more delicate, a more tender motive, for offering his hand
to me.
Mr. H.
Why, look ye, you have a great Understanding to be
sure—and I confess you talk above my reach—but, I
must nevertheless take the liberty to blame your Ladyship. A
person of your Ladyship's experience, and, allow me to say,
your Date in the world, must know that there are occasions
on which we should not be too nice!
Lady D.
Too nice! Mr. Hargrave. [Rising.]
Mr. H.
Aye, too nice, my Lady.—A Boy and Girl of Eighteen have
Time before them; they may be whimsical, and play at
shilly-shally, as long as they have a mind. But, my Lady, at
a certain Season, we must leave off these tricks, or be
content to go to the grave, old Bachelors and—[shrugging
his shoulders]
Lady D.
I am utterly astonished! Mr. Hargrave, you surely mean to
offend—you insult me!
Mr. H.
No—by no means—I would not offend your Ladyship
for the World. I have the highest Respect for you, and shall
rejoice to call you my Daughter; if you are not so, it will
be your own fault; for George, I am sure, is ready, the
moment you give your consent. The writings shall be drawn
when you think proper, and the marriage brought about without
delay.
Lady D.
Well, Sir, I really do not know what to say.—When Mr.
George Hargrave shall imagine it a proper period to talk to
me on the subject—I—I—
Mr.H.
Well, well—I allow this is a topic on which a Lady does
not chuse to explain herself, but to the principal. I waited
on your Ladyship only to inform you that I had talked to my
Son concerning the affair, and to incline you, when he waits
on you, to give him a favourable hearing.
Lady D.
Mr. Hargrave, a person of your Son's merit is intitled to
a proper attention from any woman he addresses.
Mr.H.
There—now we are right again; i was fearful that you had
not like my Boy, and that your Difficulties arose from that
quarter; but, since you like George, 'tis all very well, very
well.—I am sure George loves you; I'll go and
send him to you this moment, and he shall tell you so
himself—you'll surely believe him! [Exit.]
Lady D.
Mr. Hargrave, Mr. Hargrave! bless me, what an impetuous
obstinate Old Man. What can I do—I am in an exceedingly
indelicate situation—he will tell his Son that I am
waiting here in expectation of a Declaration of
Love—surely never woman was in so awkward an embarras!
I wish the son possessed a little of the Father's
impetuosity—this would not then have happened.
[Enter George.]
Geo.
Your Ladyship's most obedient Servant.
Lady D.
[Curtseying confusedly] S—i—r—
Geo.
[Very gravely.] My father permits me to make my
acknowledgments to your Ladyship, for the Honour you design
our Family.
Lady D.
I must confess, Sir, this Interview is
somewhat—unexpected—it is quite premature—I
was not prepared for it—and I am really in great
Confusion!
Geo.
I am sensible that a visit of this kind, to a Lady of
your Delicacy, must be a little distressing; but I intreat
you to be composed. I hope you will have no reason to regret
a resolution which myself, and the rest of the family, have
so much cause to rejoice in—particularly my Father.
Lady D.
You are very polite, Sir. We have had so
little opportunity of conversing, Mr. Hargrave, that I am
afraid you express rather your Father's sentiments than your
own. It is impossible, indeed, from so short a knowledge,
that you can have formed any Sentiments of me yourself.
Geo.
Pardon me, my sentiments for you are full of Respect! and I
am convinced your Qualities will excite the Veneration of all
who have the honour of being connected with you. [Aside.
My father could hardly have done it better.]
Lady D.
[Aside. Why this young man has certainly been taught to
make Love by his Tutor at College!]—I think it
necessary to assure you, Sir, that—that this affair has
been brought thus forward by Mr. Hargrave, and that the
Proposals he made, in which it was evident his whole Heart
was concerned, were quite unexpected.
Geo.
I have not the least doubt of it, my Lady, nor am I at all
surprised at my Father s earnestness on a subject so
interesting.—[Aside. What can she mean by
apologizing to me!]
Lady D.
It would certainly have been proper, Sir, to have allowed
you time to have formed a judgment for yourself.
Geo.
The time has been quite sufficient. I highly approve the
steps my father has taken; but, if I did not, Obedience to
his determination would certainly have prevented my opposing
them.
Lady D.
[Aside. Really! A pretty extraordinary confession!]
Geo.
[Aside. I must end this ridiculous visit!] Shall I
have the honour of conducting your Ladyship to the company?
Lady D.
Sir!—N—o—Sir! I have some orders to give my woman;
I will rejoin the Ladies in a few minutes.
Geo.
Then—I'll wish your Ladyship a good morning! [Exit.]
Lady D.
Amazement! what a visit from a Lover! Is this the
language in which men usually talk to women with whom they
are on the point of Marriage?—Respect! Veneration!
Obedience to his Father!—And—"Shall I have the
honour of conducting your Ladyship(to the
Company?"—A pretty Lover-like request truly!—
But, this coldness to me proceeds from a cause I now
understand. This morning, what fire was there in his eyes!
what animation in his countenance! whenever he addressed
himself to that creature Mr. Drummond brought here? Would his
request to her have been, to conduct her into
Company?—no—no!—But I must be cautious—I
must be patient now;—but, you will find Sir, when I am
your Wife, your glances, if not directed to me, shall, at
least in my presence, be addressed to no other! [Exit.]
Scene 2
[Another Apartment. Bella playing.]
SONG.
Haste, haste, ye glowing steeds of Day,
In Ocean's bosom hide the beams;
Mild Evening, in her pensive grey,
More soft and more alluring seems.Yet why invoke the pensive Eve?
Or, sighing, wish away the Morn?
Their interchanging can't relieve
The Heart by pangs of Absence torn!
Away with Music! it only makes me melancholy. Heighho! the Lovers infect me I believe.—Attractive Italy! what are your Spells? Oh, for Fortunatus's Cap! I'd convince myself in a moment whether my doubts are justly founded.—And, suppose they are, what then? Ah! whilst they think me but Ice, the gaiety of my disposition only serves to conceal a Heart as susceptible as those of the most tender of my sex—
[Enter Emily.]
ah, my dear Madam, I am rejoiced to see you; I have been just long enough alone to be tired of myself, and charmed at so agreeable a relief.
Em.
Can that ever be the case with Miss Sydney? I thought you
had possessed the happiest flow of Spirits in the world.
Bel.
Oh! your great Spirits are mere Jack-a-lanterns in the
brain, dancing about, shining, and making Vagaries; whilst
those who possess Happiness, enjoy their Treasure soberly and
quietly.
[Enter George.]
Geo.
Ladies in Council!—on Fashion or News?
Bel.
On a less important subject—laughing at the Slaves
we have, and forging chains for more.
Geo.
I dont believe it;—for, Beauties have no
Contrivances. Nature spares them the trouble; for Schemes,
she substitutes sparkling eyes, timid blushes, and a
Multitude of Graces gliding o'er the form. [Looking at
Emily].
Bel.
Well, after all, men are delightful creatures; their
Flattery, in conjunction with Cards and Scandal, help one
through the day tolerably well. I dont know how we should
exist without all these, in the Country.
Geo.
And which of them would you relinquish in Town?
Bel.
Not Flattery, because it keeps one in Spirits, and gives
a glow to the Complexion.—Scandal you may take
away;—but pray leave us Cards, to keep Fashionable
Crouds awake!
Geo.
You would give up Scandal to substitute, I
suppose—Conquest.
Bel.
Ridiculous! Conquest is not such an object with Women as
the Men imagine. I, for one, should conceive a Net, that
would catch the hearts of the whole sex, a property of very
little value.
Geo.
But you would think it a very pleasant one, my Gentle Coz;
for, at least [archly] you'd pick out one happy
Favorite, before you gave the rest to despair.
Bel.
Positively no—I dont know one that I should not let
escape with the rest.
Geo.
Now, how can you fib with such an unblushing face? I'll
give you [to Emily] Bella's Secret. She has, at this
moment, an Image in her heart that says—Oh fie! to her
tongue.
Bel.
Indeed Mr. Effrontery!—whose Image?
Geo.
Listen with greediest ear; to catch the transporting
sound!—breathe not e'en softest Zephyrs whilst I
articulate the name of—
Bel.
[stopping her ears] Oh, I wont hear it!
Geo.
BELVILLE! [Loudly.]
Bel.
Oh, frightful!—Dont attend.—George's belief is
always under the influence of his Fancy.
Em.
If I may judge from your Looks, he has not, in this
instance, hinted at a Fiction.
Bel.
His guess would have been as good, if he had named
Prester John.
Geo.
H-r-r-m—I wish it may be so! for I have heard a
story about a certain Lady upon the Continent, whom a certain
Gentleman—
Bel.
Thinks handsomer than Bella Sydney—mortifying—
ha! ha! ha!
Geo.
Nay more, to whom he devotes his hours.
Bel.
[Petulantly] His Heart!
Geo.
On whom he doats.
Bel.
Pshaw!
Geo.
Grows melancholy.
Bel.
Nonsense!
Geo.
Fights for her.
Bel.
Ridiculous!
Geo.
Lives only at her feet.
Bel.
You are really very insupportable, Sir!—do find some
other subject to amuse yourself.
Geo.
Ha! ha! ha! the gudgeon has bit! See, Miss Morley, a
Coquette struggling with serious Love! Are not those pouts,
and angry blushes, proofs of Belville's happiness?
Em.
I cannot perceive these proofs—I think you flatter Mr.
Belville too highly.
Bel.
Oh, you are a good Girl! and, I assure you, perfectly
right. Lovers, thank our stars! are too plentiful, for an
absent one to give much pain.—[Apart to George.—
What! turn your arms upon your associate, George? I'll break
the League, and discover all.]
Geo.
You dare not—you love Mischief too well; it is as
dear to you as the sighs of your Lover.
Bel.
A-propos! where is Sir Charles?
Geo.
In the garden, probably—sighing to the winds;—and
I wish you'd find him, and leave us.
Bel.
Why, aye—the winds perhaps will waft his sighs to
Harriet, and she must not hear them yet—and so, Sir
Charles—[Exit.]
Em.
Oh, pray make me one of your party!—[Going.]
Geo.
Stay, I intreat you. Believe me they will not thank
you—come I'll tell you all about it—
Em.
I'll hear it from Miss Sydney.
Geo.
Nay, if you are determined—[Exeunt.]
Scene 3
[The Garden. Enter Harriet.]
Har.
In vain do I endeavour to
conceal it from myself—this spot has charms for me that
I can find in no other! Here have I seen—perhaps for the
last time—Sir Charles Seymour. Bella's presence was
unlucky—I should have heard him! To be sure talking of
Love to me would have been an insult that I must have
resented—and yet, 'tis the only subject on which I could
have wished to have heard him!—This is
distressing—he is here again—he haunts this place.
He does not observe me; I'll conceal myself, lest, unaided by
Bella, I should not keep up my new character. [Goes behind
an Arbour.]
[Enter Sir Charles, looking anxiously around.]
Sir Ch.
Ah! not here either!—Sweet resemblance of her I love,
come from thy hiding-place! [takes a Picture pendent by a
ribbon from his bosom, and kisses it.] In her Absence,
thou art the dearest object that can present itself to my
eyes. What a Face is this!
"'Tis beauty truly blent, whose red and white
Nature's own sweet and cunning hand laid on!"
[Enter George. Catches his hand with the Picture.]
Geo.
Ho! ho! so the Picture's come from the Painter's, is it
Sir, and the drapery quite to your fancy?
Sir Ch.
[Recovering from Confusion.] The artifice I used, he who
loves can pardon!
Geo.
And how many times a day dost thou break the Decalogue,
in worshipping that image?
Sir Ch.
Every hour that I live. I gaze on it, until I think it looks
and speaks to me; all night it lies on my heart, and is the
first object I address in the morning.
Geo.
Why, man, instead of silken ties, your passion will end
in hemp—come, confess, have you not been examining on
which of these trees you would be most gracefully pendent?
Sir Ch.
This gaiet? de coeur, George, is inconsistent
with a tender passion; to be plain, I believe you know every
little about it.
Geo.
You are egregiously mistaken. We are both Lovers, but the
difference between us lies thus; Cupid to me—is a little
familiar rogue, with an arch leer, and cheeks dimpled with
continual Smiles;—to you—a terrible Deity, deck'd
out in his whole Regalia of Quivers, Darts, Flames, and so
forth! I play with him—you—
Sir Ch.
Spare yourself the trouble of longer Explanation;—All
you would say amounts to this, you love with Hope—I with
Despair!
Geo.
Very concise, and most pathetically expressed! Melancholy
suits your features, Charles—'twere pity your Mistress
should encourage you; it would deprive you of that something
in your air which is so touching—ha! ha! ha!—poor
Seymour! Come, let us go in search of the Grils, they are
gone to the Wood; who know but you may find a Nymph there,
who'll have the kindness to put hanging and drowning out of
your head!
Sir Ch.
Oh, would sweet Celia meet me there,
With soften'd Look, and gentler air,
Transported, to the Wood I'd fly,
The happiest Swain beneath the sky,
Sighs and Complaints I'd give the wind,
And IO's sing, were Celia kind.
[As he pronounces the Verses, George laughs, and scans them on his fingers.]
Geo.
Why Cupid's deaf as well as blind! [Exeunt.]
[Harriet comes from behind the Bower.]
Har.
Her Picture in his bosom! and kiss it with such rapture
too! Well, I am glad I am convinced.—I am perfectly at
Ease! He loves then without Hope, and George was mistaken in
supposing him so near Marriage. But he loves,
notwithstanding. Her Picture lies all night on his heart, and
her Idea is never absent from his mind.—Well, be it so;
I am perfectly at Ease! and shall no longer find a difficulty
in displaying an Indifference that is become real—Oh,
Seymour! [Exit.]
Scene 4
[The Wood. Enter Lady Dinah. Looking behind her.]
Lady D.
Insolent wretch! Nothing less than the conviction of my
own Senses would have induced me to believe so shocking an
Indecorum. I saw you look at him with eyes that were
downright gloting; I saw him snatch your hand, and press it
to his lips with an ardour that could not be exceeded. And,
when the Creature pretended to blush, and made a reluctant
effort to withdraw it,—my Youth, so full of
Veneration and Respect for me, refused to resign it, till she
had given him a gracious Smile of Reconciliation! Surely they
do not perceive me. See there! Nay, if you will come—[Goes
behind a Shrub.]
[Enter Emily, followed by George.]
Em.
I entreat you, Sir, not to persist in following; You'll force
me to appeal to Mr. Drummond for protection.
Geo.
You need none Miss Morley, that you will not find in my
Respect! It is ungracious to deprive me of conversing with
you.
Em.
If you presume to believe your attentions would not displease
me in my proper character, I ought to be offended that you
address them to a person of whose Name and Family you are
ignorant.
Geo.
Can a Name deprive you of that face, that air—or rob
you of your mind?—those are the Objects which I address
with the most passionate vows of—
Em.
I positively will not listen to you. When you know who I am,
I may, perhaps, converse with you on my own terms [Lady
Dinah listening—Aye or on any terms]—That
is—the instant you attempt to be dangerous, I shall be
reserved.
Geo.
How dangerous?
Em.
Oh, if, unexpectedly, you should appear to grow of
Consequence enough to endanger my heart, I shall escape from
you.—I shall remain only, whilst you are harmless.
Geo.
This is not to be borne—I will not be harmless—I
declare open War against your heart, not in play—but
downright earnest.
Em.
Nay, then, I collect at once all my Force to oppose
you;—my heart will stand a long Siege depend on it.
Geo.
A ten years siege would not deter me; if I could hope it
would yield at last.
Em.
Oh, I permit no hopes. If you should vanquish in spite of
me—I can only bewail its captivity.
Geo.
Your admission that I may take the field, is all that I
can at present hope; and therefore—in all due and
regular form—on my knees attractive creature—
Lady D.
[Listening]— Aye, such Veneration and Repsect as this
indeed!
Em.
Hold, Sir—I will be so merciful, as to give you this
notice—that, whenever you kneel, I shall fly. [Runs
out.]
Geo.
And I—that I shall pursue, till my ATALANTA confesses I
have won the prize—
[As George is following Emily, Lady D. comes
out against him with a reproachful air, and passes him].
So! [Aside.—There's a Look! what a blessed
Mother-in-law I shall have!] [Exit]
Lady D.
What! not stay even to explain—to apologize!—follow
her before my face—Revenge! Yes, yes, she'll yield
without the trouble of ten years siege—she'll capitulate
in less than ten hours. Oh, ye shall both suffer for
this—I'll go this instant and effect something. [Exit.]
[Enter Susan.]
Sus.
Ha! ha! ha! is it so, my Lady? I must see if I cant make
myself useful here. A Lady like mine is the only one that a
Girl of Spirit should serve. I'll follow, and aid your
Ladyship with my counsel before you have time to cool—[going,
returns]—oh, 'tis needless, her she ebbs
back—after her flood of passion.
[Enter Lady Dinah; not seeing Susan.]
Lady D.
A moment's Reflection has convinced me that I should be
wrong. He must not suspect that I influence his father
against the Minion, nor will I allow her the satisfaction of
thinking she gives me the pangs of Jealousy. But, I will not
lose him! something must be done.
Sus.
Oh, my Lady, I was witness to the whole! A base man! I could
have trampled him under my feet.
Lady D.
Base, indeed. But 'tis on her my resentment chiefly
falls—oh, Susan, Revenge!
Sus.
I am sure my heart aches for you, my Lady, there's nothing I
would not do.—Oh, she's an artful slut!
Lady D.
If thou canst discover any thing that will rid me of
her—command my Fortune!
Sus.
Oh, my dear Lady—your fortune—as to that my
Lady, that's out of the question. But I know your Ladyship's
generosity; I think I could send her packing—perhaps
before night.
Lady D.
Can you!—The instant she goes I'll give you two hundred
pounds.
Sus.
[Curtesying] She shall go, my Lady, if I have management,
or Jarvis a tongue.
Lady D.
Jarvis! are you mad? I would not have him suspect that I
am concerned in the affair for the universe.
Sus.
Oh, dear my Lady, I vow I would not mention your
name—no, not for three hundred pounds from any body
else—no, no, Miss shall be got rid of without giving
Jarvis, or any one, the least reason to suspect that your
Ladyship is privy to the matter. Miss told a fine tale to get
into the house, I fancy I know as fine a tale that will get
her out of it.
Lady D.
I am convinced she is an Impostor, and I wonder Mr. Hargrave
does not see it; but, there will be more time spent, and
labour lost, in rousing his stupid apprehension—than in
explaining to an Enthusiast the conceptions of a Bolingbroke!
Sus.
I am more afraid of Mr. Drummond, than of him.
Lady D.
Aye, he will support that Girl's Interest—in order
to mortify me.
Sus.
That does'nt signify, my Lady. I have a card, as good as
any he holds, to play against him. Your Ladyship must have
seen that the old Justice has full as much weight with the
'Squire as Mr. Drummond.
Lady D.
I have observed that Mr. Drummond [sic. the 'Squire?]
is continually wavering between them. They influence his
actions like two principal Senses; Mr. Drummond is the friend
of his Understanding, the other of his Humour.—But, what
card have you to play?
Sus.
I mean to play the one of these senses of his against the
other, that's all. As for this Justice, I am mistaken if I
cant govern him as much as all his Senses put
together.
Lady D.
My hopes catch life Susan! I suppose you have the way to
the old fool's heart; at all events the Girl must be got rid
of.
Sus.
To be sure what I am doing, behind her back, against the
young Lady, according to the notions I once had, is not quite
right—but—
Lady D.
Some vulgar notions, I suppose, and common-place; but you
may trust to me! My track of Reading has taught me, that to
act upon extended Principles is the most enlightened
course—that the fulfilment of a Duty sanctifies the
Means,
and that to procure our own welfare is our first
Duty.—There's the Dinner bell!—I must walk a
little, to recover my Composure, before I take my seat as the
young Lady's foil! [Exit.]
Sus.
I'm sure she cant have a better.—Ha! ha! ha! two
hundred pounds! Oh the advantages of Jealousy and Revenge! I
might have served one of your good sort of orderly old women
till I had been grey. These two hundreds will quicken Mr.
Jarvis a little—we shall see him more attentive I fancy
than he has been, and then farewell to Servitude—ah!
Jarvis.
[Enter Jarvis, bowing affectedly.]
Jar.
"So look'd the Goddess of the Paphian Isle,
When Mars she saw, and conquer'd with a smile."
My dear Goddess, I kiss your fingers—I have been
hunting for you in every walk of the Wood.
Sus.
[Tenderly] Why, how came that, Jarvis?
Jar.
Why, I have the same kind of necessity for you, that a Beau
has for a Looking-Glasss—you enable me to perceive the
effect that my appearance produces, which keeps me in good
humour.
Sus.
Oh, if you want to be put in temper, I have got an
excellent Cordial.—Now, to prove yourself the clever
fellow you think you are!
Jar.
That you think me, my Dear, you mean. But, what
extraordinary occasion has occurred for the exhibition of my
talents?
Sus.
Listen!—We have discovered that the young 'Squire
thinks Eighteen a prettier age than Fifty—that he
prefers Nature's roses to the Perfumer's—and that
Gravity and Learning are no match for the fire of two hazel
eyes, assisted by—the Reasoning of Smiles and Dimples!
Jar.
And he's in the right on't. Did'nt I tell you this morning
they reckoned without their host?
Sus.
Here he has been on his Knees at the feet of the Damsel,
and her Ladyship behind that bush—deeply impressed with
his Transports—Ha! ha! ha!
Jar.
Ha! ha! ha! George Hargrave marry our Old Lady!—No,
no; I have a very good opinion of that young
fellow;—he's exactly what I should be if I was Heir to
his father's Acres—just such a spirited, careless,
deportment—a certain prevailing Assurance. Upon my
Sagacity, Susan, you and I ought to have moved in a higher
Sphere!
Sus.
Come come, to Business. You must consider this affair in
a more serious point of view: 'twould be a Shame that,
because this Girl has a pretty face, and was found weeping by
an old Gentleman who took compassion upon her—it would
be a Shame, you know, that for these reasons she should marry
into a great family—and cheat the Sister of a Peer of a
Husband! Read the Story this way, act with Spirit, and our
Lady will give us Two Hundred Pounds—on the day of our
Marriage!
Jar.
Humph!—on the day of our Marriage! Cannot you child
prevail upon your Lady to give me the Two Hundred,
without tacking that Condition to it?
Sus.
Pho! Sauce-box!—Well, but the Two Hundred—what
will you do for them?
Jar.
Do for them—oh, any thing—the most extravagant
thing in the world;—run off with the Girl—blow up
the house—turn Turk—or marry you!
Sus.
Well, you have only to contrive to open some
Door—for this stray Girl to walk out of the house.
Jar.
But how?—by what means?
Sus.
Have you forgotten the occupation which once gave
employment to these talents of your's, fitting you, as you
think, for any Company—I mean, have you forgotten when
you belonged to a Company of Country Players?
Jar.
Oh, I well remember the Barns that I have made echo with the
Ravings of Orestes, and the Stables in which I have sighed
forth the woes of Romeo!
Sus.
Well, Mr. Romeo, have you no recollection of a pretty Juliet?
an elegant Girl—in short do you not remember one of the
strolling party exceedingly like the strange guest now in the
house?
Jar.
Humph!—Why, what evil spirit sent thee to tempt me
this morning?—So, I am to sell my Honour!—my
Honesty—
Sus.
Pho pho!—Honesty and Honour are sentiments for
people whose Circumstances exempt them from Temptation. Let
our Industry—we may as well call it by that name you
know—but make us independent, and we'll be as honourable
and honest as the best of 'em—so let's go in and settle
our Plan!
Jar.
It has ever been the Fate of Great men to be misled by Women—and, therefore,
my sweet Abigail, I am your's! [Leads her off.]
END OF ACT III
