Part 8 (1/2)
_Aman_. Your interference can only add to my distress.
_Col. Town_. Ah, madam, if it be the sting of unrequited love you suffer from, seek for your remedy in revenge: weigh well the strength and beauty of your charms, and rouse up that spirit a woman ought to bear. Disdain the false embraces of a husband.
See at your feet a real lover; his zeal may give him t.i.tle to your pity, although his merit cannot claim your love.
_Love_. So, so, very fine, i'faith! [_Aside_.]
_Aman_. Why do you presume to talk to me thus? Is this your friends.h.i.+p to Mr. Loveless? I perceive you will compel me at last to acquaint him with your treachery.
_Col. Town_. He could not upbraid me if you were.--He deserves it from me; for he has not been more false to you than faithless to me.
_Aman_. To you?
_Col. Town_. Yes, madam; the lady for whom he now deserts those charms which he was never worthy of, was mine by right; and, I imagine too, by inclination. Yes, madam, Berinthia, who now-- _Aman_. Berinthia! Impossible!
_Col. Town_. 'Tis true, or may I never merit your attention.
She is the deceitful sorceress who now holds your husband's heart in bondage.
_Aman_. I will not believe it.
_Col. Town_. By the faith of a true lover, I speak from conviction. This very day I saw them together, and overheard-- _Aman_. Peace, sir! I will not even listen to such slander-- this is a poor device to work on my resentment, to listen to your insidious addresses. No, sir; though Mr. Loveless may be capable of error, I am convinced I cannot be deceived so grossly in him as to believe what you now report; and for Berinthia, you should have fixed on some more probable person for my rival than her who is my relation and my friend: for while I am myself free from guilt, I will never believe that love can beget injury, or confidence create ingrat.i.tude.
_Col. Town_. If I do not prove to you-- _Aman._ You never shall have an opportunity. From the artful manner in which you first showed yourself to me, I might have been led, as far as virtue permitted, to have thought you less criminal than unhappy; but this last unmanly artifice merits at once my resentment and contempt. [_Exit_.]
_Col. Town_. Sure there's divinity about her; and she has dispensed some portion of honour's light to me: yet can I bear to lose Berinthia without revenge or compensation? Perhaps she is not so culpable as I thought her. I was mistaken when I began to think lightly of Amanda's virtue, and may be in my censure of my Berinthia. Surely I love her still, for I feel I should be happy to find myself in the wrong. [_Exit_.]
_Re-enter_ LOVELESS _and_ BERINTHIA.
_Ber_. Your servant, Mr. Loveless.
_Love_. Your servant, madam.
_Ber_. Pray what do you think of this?
_Love_. Truly, I don't know what to say.
_Ber_. Don't you think we steal forth two contemptible creatures?
_Love_. Why, tolerably so, I must confess.
_Ber_. And do you conceive it possible for you ever to give Amanda the least uneasiness again?
_Love_. No, I think we never should indeed.
_Ber_. We! why, monster, you don't pretend that I ever entertained a thought?
_Love_. Why then, sincerely and honestly, Berinthia, there is something in my wife's conduct which strikes me so forcibly, that if it were not for shame, and the fear of hurting you in her opinion, I swear I would follow her, confess my error, and trust to her generosity for forgiveness.
_Ber_. Nay, pr'ythee, don't let your respect for me prevent you; for as my object in trifling with you was nothing more than to pique Townly, and as I perceive he has been actuated by a similar motive, you may depend on't I shall make no mystery of the matter to him.
_Love_. By no means inform him: for though I may choose to pa.s.s by his conduct without resentment, how will he presume to look me in the face again?
_Ber_. How will you presume to look him in the face again?
_Love_. He, who has dared to attempt the honour of my wife!
_Ber_. You who have dared to attempt the honour of his mistress! Come, come, be ruled by me, who affect more levity than I have, and don't think of anger in this cause. A readiness to resent injuries is a virtue only in those who are slow to injure.
_Love_. Then I will be ruled by you; and when you think proper to undeceive Townly, may your good qualities make as sincere a convert of him as Amanda's have of me.-When truth's extorted from us, then we own the robe of virtue is a sacred habit.
Could women but our secret counsel scan-- Could they but reach the deep reserve of man-- To keep our love they'd rate their virtue high, They live together, and together die.
[_Exeunt_.]
SCENE II.--_A Room in_ SIR TUNBELLY CLUMSY'S _House.
Enter_ MISS HOYDEN, NURSE, _and_ TOM FAs.h.i.+ON.
_Fash_. This quick despatch of the chaplain's I take so kindly it shall give him claim to my favour as long as I live, I a.s.sure you.
_Miss Hoyd_. And to mine too, I promise you.
_Nurse_. I most humbly thank your honours; and may your children swarm about you like bees about a honeycomb!
_Miss Hoyd_. Ecod, with all my heart--the more the merrier, I say--ha, nurse?
_Enter_ LORY.
_Lory_. One word with you, for Heaven's sake. [_Taking_ TOM FAs.h.i.+ON _hastily aside_.]
_Fash_. What the devil's the matter?
_Lory_. Sir, your fortune's ruined if you are not married.
Yonder's your brother arrived, with two coaches and six horses, twenty footmen, and a coat worth fourscore pounds--so judge what will become of your lady's heart.
_Fash_. Is he in the house yet?
_Lory_. No, they are capitulating with him at the gate. Sir Tunbelly luckily takes him for an impostor; and I have told him that we have heard of this plot before.
_Fash_. That's right.--[_Turning to_ MISS HOYDEN.] My dear, here's a troublesome business my man tells me of, but don't be frightened; we shall be too hard for the rogue. Here's an impudent fellow at the gate (not knowing I was come hither incognito) has taken my name upon him, in hopes to run away with you.
_Miss Hoyd_. Oh, the brazen-faced varlet! it's well we are married, or maybe we might never have been so.
_Fash. [Aside_.] Egad, like enough.--[_Aloud_.]