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 pass 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 Fashion.
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 assure you.
Miss Hoyd. And to mine too, I promise you.
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