Pau. I had suspicion his designs were there.

Cle. I've thought so too: nay have some cause to fear That she's his wife. This hath restrain'd my tongue.

Pau. 'Tis well if she deserve your tenderness. But say, Cleone, let me know the means,

Which this most impious man, this trusted friend, Hath taken to betray

Cle. I hear his voice;

And this way he directs his hated steps.

Retire into that room-he seldom fails
To hint his bold desires. Your self perhaps
May thence detect him, and by open shame
Deter him from persisting. [Paulet goes into the room.

Enter GLANVILLE.

Glan. I greet you, lady, with important news;
The Saracens are beaten-yet Sifroy,

Coldly neglectful of your blooming charms,
Pursues a remnant of the flying foe

To strong Avignon's walls, where shelter'd safe,
The hardy troops may bear a tedious siege.
Why then, Cleone, should you still resist
The soft entreaties of my warm desire?
Methinks the man but ill deserves your truth,
Who leaves the sweet Elysium of your arms
To tread the dangerous fields of horrid war.

Cle. And what, O Glanville, what dost thou deserve? Thou, who with treachery repay'st the trust

Of sacred friendship? Thou, who but to quench

Hamilton de.

Thornthwaite foulp.

MS SIDDONS as CLE ONE.
I hear his voice.

And this way he directs his hated Stops.

London Brinted for J.Bell British Library, Strand March 31792.

A loose desire, a lawless passion's rage,

Would'st banish truth and honour from thy breast? Glan. Honour!--What's honour? A vain phantom rais'd

To fright the weak from tasting those delights,
Which Nature's voice, that law supreme, allows.
Be wise, and laugh at all its idle threats.
Besides, with me your fame would be secure,
Discretion guards my name from censure's tongue.
Cle. And dost thou call hypocrisy, discretion?
Say'st thou that vice is wisdom? Glanville, hear me.
With thee, thou sayʼst, my fame would be secure ;
Unsully'd by the world. It might. Yet know,
Tho' hid beneath the center of the earth,
Remov'd from envy's eye, and slander's tongue,
Nay from the view of Heaven itself conceal'd,
Still would I shun the very thought of guilt,
Nor wound my secret conscience with reproach.
Glan. Romantic all! Come, come, why were you
form'd

So tempting fair; why grac'd with ev'ry charm,
With eyes that languish, limbs that move with grace-
Why were these beauties given you, but to soothe
The sweet, the strong sensations they excite?
Why were you made so beauteous, yet so coy?

[Offers to embrace her, she puts him by with disdain. Cle. Base hypocrite! why rather wert thou suffer'd Beneath fair virtue's mien to hide a heart

So vile? Why this, good Heaven! But dost thou think Thy foul devices shall be still conceal'd?

Sifroy shall know thee; thy detested crime
Shall stand reveal'd in all its horrid form.
Glan. Is love a crime? O ask your feeling heart-
[Paulet bursts from the room.

Pau. Villain, desist!

Glan. Ha! Paulet here!-'Tis well:
He is her minion then! 'Tis as I guess'd;
My letters to Sifroy traduc'd them not.

[Aside.

Pau. Vile hypocrite!—what! lurk such warm desires Beneath that sober mask of sanctity?

Is this the firm undoubted honesty,

In which Sifroy confiding, sleeps secure?

Glan. And is it fit that thou should'st lecture vice? Thou who, even here, this moment wert conceal'd, The favorite object of lewd privacy?

Should'st thou declaim against the rich repast,
Thy gluttonous appetite alone enjoys

To all the heights of luxury?-Sweet lady!
Who now shall stand reveal'd before Sifroy?
But I have long, long known your intercourse,
Nor wanted clearer proof to speak your crimes.

Cle. O heaven and earth!

Pau. Stay, monster! by high Heaven,

Thy life shall answer this vile calumny.

[Going.

Glan. Dream not I fear !-thy threatenings I despise. Soon I'll return, to thine and her confusion.

[Exit Glanville.

Cle. What have I done? unhappy rash concealment !

This may, alas! give colour to his charge.