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Ara. Indeed I would. It will save a world of trouble. She will blush, perhaps, at first, and look a little awkward (and, by the by, so will you, too); but if she is the girl I take her for, after a little irresolute gesture, and about five minutes conversation, she will drop you a curtesy with the demure humility of a vestal, and tell you it shall be as you and her mamma please.

Sir John. O, that it were come to that! Ara. And, pray, what hinders it? Nothing upon earth but your consummate prudence and discretion.

Sir John. I cannot think of marrying her, till I am sure she loves me.

Ara. Lud, lud!-Why, what does that signify? If she consents, is not that enough?

Sir John. Her gratitude may induce her to consent, rather than make me unhappy.

Ara. You would absolutely make a woman mad.

Sir John. Why, could you think of marrying a man who has no regard for you?

Ara. The case is widely different, my good casuistical brother; and perhaps I could not-unless I was very much in love with him.

Sir John. And could you then?

Lady Bev. I-I-have wanted an opportunity
of speaking to you, sir John, a great while.
Sir John. And I, madam, have long had an
affair of consequence to propose to your lady-
ship.

Lady Ber. An affair of consequence to me!—
O lud! -will you please to speak, sir.
Sir John. Not till I have heard your ladyship's
commands.

Lady Bev. What, must women speak first!
Fie, sir John-[Looking languishingly.]—
Well, then, the matter, in short, is this: I have
long been thinking how to dispose of my girl pro-
perly. She is grown a woman, you see, and,
though I, who am her mother, say it, has her al-
lurements.

Sir John. Uncommon ones indeed.

Lady Bev. Now, I would willingly consult with you how to get her well married, before she is tainted with the indecorums of the world.

Sir John. It was the very subject which I proposed to speak to you upon. I am sorry to put your ladyship in mind of a near and dear lossBut you remember sir Harry's will.

Lady Bev. Yes, yes, I remember it very well. Poor man! it was undoubtedly the only weak

Ara. Yes, I could-to tell you the truth, I be- thing he was ever guilty of. lieve I shall. Sir John. Madam!

you mean ?

Sir John. What do Ara. I shall not tell you. You have business enough of your own upon your hands.

Sir John. Have you any doubts of Modely? Ara. I shall keep them to myself, if I have. For you are a wretched counsellor in a love-case. Sir John. But dear Araminta

Ara. But dear sir John Dorilant, you may make yourself perfectly easy, for you shall positively know nothing of my affairs. As to your own, if you do not instantly resolve to speak to Celia, I will go and talk to her myself.

us.

Sir John. Stay, lady Beverley is coming towards

Lady Bev. I say, sir John, we must pardon the failings of our deceased friends. Indeed his affection for his child excuses it.

Sir John. Excuses it!

Lady Bev. Yes, indeed, does it. His fondness for her might naturally make him wish to place her with a person of your known excellence of character; for my own part, had I died, 1 should have wished it myself. I don't believe you have your equal in the world. Nay, dear sir John, 'tis no compliment. This, I say, might make him not attend to the impropriety of the thing, and the reluctance a gentleman of your good sense and judgment must undoubtedly have to accede

Ara. And has left my swain yonder by him-to so unsuitable a treaty; especially as he could

self.

Sir John. Suppose I break it to her?

Ara. It is not a method which I should advise but do as you please. I know that horrid woman's sentiments very exactly, and I shall be glad to have her teased a little. [Aside.]—I'll give you an opportunity by leaving you; and so adieu, my dear sentimental brother!

Enter LADY BEVERLEY and MODELY. We'll change partners, if you please, madam.[TO LADY BEVERLEY as she enters. exit with MODELY.]

;

not but know there were women of discretion in the world, who would be proud of an alliance where the prospect of felicity was so inviting and unquestionable.

Sir John. [Who had appeared uneasy all the time she was speaking.] What women, madam? i know of none.

Lady Bev. Sir John! That is not quite so complaisant, methinks--to our sex, I mean.

Sir John. I beg your pardon, madam; I hardly know what I say. Your ladyship has disconcertAnd thened every thing was going to propose to you. Lady Bev. Bless me, sir John!--I disconcerted Lady Bev. Poor mistaken creature! how fond every thing! How, pray? I have been only talkthe thing is! [Aside, and looking after ARA-ing to you in an open friendly manner, with reMINTA. Your servant, sir John.

Sir John. Your ladyship's most obedient.After some irresolute gesture on both sidesLADY BEVERLEY speaks.]

VOL. II.

gard to my daughter; our daughter, indeed, I
might call her, for you have been a father to her.
The girl herself always speaks of you as such.
Sir John. Speaks of me as a father?
5 L

Lady Bev. Why, more unlikely things have happened, sir John.

Sir John. Than what, madam?

Lady Bev. Dear sir Jolin! You put such peremptory questions; you might easily understand what one meant, methinks.

Sir John. I find, madam, I must speak plain at once. Know, then, my heart, my soul, my every thought of happiness, is fixed upon that lovely girl.

Lady Bev. O, astonishing! Well, miracles are not ceased, that's certain. But every body, they say, must do a foolish thing once in their lives. And can you really and sincerely think of putting sir Harry's will in execution?

Sir John. Would I could!

Lady Bev. To be sure the girl has a fine for

tune.

Sir John. Fortune! I despise it. I would give it with all my soul to any one who could engage me her affections. Fortune! dirt.

Lady Ber. I am thunderstruck!

out.

Sir John. [Turning eagerly to her.] O, madam, tell me, sincerely tell me, what method can I possibly pursue to make her think favourably of me! You know her inmost soul, you know the tender moments of address, the easy avenues to her unpractised heart. Be kind, and point them [Grasping her hand. Lady Bev. I vow, sir John, I don't know what to say to you. Let go my hand. You talked of my disconcerting you just now; I am sure you disconcert me with a witness.- [Aside.] I did not think the man had so much rapture in him. He squeezed my hand with such an emphasis, I may gain him, perhaps, at last.

Sir John. Why will you not speak, madam? Can you see ine on the brink of desperation, and not lend a friendly hand to my assistance? Lady Bev. I have it. [Aside.]- -Alas, sir John, what signifies what I can do? Can I answer for the inclinations of a giddy girl?

Sir John. You know she is not such; her innocent mind is yet untainted with the follies of her

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Sir John. But 'tis impossible. I have observed all her motions, all her attentions, with a lover's eye, incapable of erring. Yet stay—has any body written to her?

Lady Bev. There is no occasion for letters, when people are in the same house together. Sir John. Confusion!

Lady Bev. I was going to offer some proposals to you, but your strange declaration stopped me short.

Sir John. You proposals?-You?—Are you her abettor in the affair? O madam, what unpardonable crime have I committed against you, that you should thus conspire my ruin? Have not I always behaved to you like a friend, a brother?—I will not call you ungrateful.

Lady Bev. Mercy on us!-The man ravesHow could it possibly enter into my head, or the girl's either, that you had any serious thoughts of marrying her? But I see you are too much discomposed at present, to admit of calm reasoning. So I shall take some other opportunity.Friend-brother-ungrateful!—Very fine truly! -I hope, at least, you will not think of forcing the poor girl's inclinations! Ungrateful indeed! [Exit in a passion.

Sir John. Not for the universe-Stay, madam! She is gone. But it is no matter. I am but little disposed for altercation now. Heigh ho!— Good Heaven! can so slight an intercourse have effected all this? I have scarce ever seen them together. O that I had been born with Belmour's happy talents of address !-Address! 'tis absolute magic, 'tis fascination-Alas! 'tis the rapidity of real passion. Why did Modely bring him hither to his wedding? Every thing has conspired against me. He brought him; and the delay of the lawyers has kept him here. Had I taken Araminta's advice a poor fortnight ago, it had not been in the power of fate to have undone And yet she might have seen him afterwards, which would at least have made her duty uneasy to her. Heigh ho!

me.

Enter ARAMINTA and MODELY.

Ara. [Entering.] I tell you, I heard them very loud! and I will see what is the matter. O! here is my brother alone.

Sir John. [Taking her tenderly by the hand.] O Araminta! I am lost beyond redemption! Ara. Dear brother, what can have happened to you?

Sir John. [Turning to MODELY.] Mr Modely, you could not intend it, but you have ruined me. Mode. [Alarmed.] I, sir John!

Sir John. You have brought a friend with you, who has pierced me to the very soul ! Mode. Belmour!

Sir John. He has stolen my Celia's affections from me.

Ara. [Looking slyly at MODELY.] Belmour!
Mode. This must be a mistake, but I'll humour

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Ara. Nor do I yet.

[Looking slyly again at MODELY. Mode. There must certainly be some mistake in it; at the worst, I am sure I can prevail so far with Belmour, as to make him drop his pretensions.

Sir John. You cannot make her cease to love him. [Sighing.] Mode. Time may easily get the better of so young a passion.

Sir John. Never, never; she is too sincere, too delicately sensible.

Mode. Come, come, you must not think so; it is not yet gone so far, but that it may be totally forgotten. Now for a master-stroke to clench the whole.-[Aside.] In the mean time, sir John, I have the satisfaction of acquainting you, that my affair, with Araminta's leave, draws very near a conclusion. The lawyers have finished their papers, and only now wait for your perusal of them.

Ara. [Aside.] Well said!

Mode. I ordered the writings to be laid upon your table.

Ara. [Aside.] What does he mean?

Sir John. Dear Mr Modely, you shall not wait a moment for me. I will dispatch them instantly. I feel the want of happiness too severely myself, to postpone it in others. I leave you with my sister; when she names the day, you may depend upon my concurrence.

[Exit SIR JOHN. [MODE. and ARA. look at one another for some time, then he speaks.] I hope, madam, you are now convinced of my sincerity?

Ara. I am absolutely struck dumb with your

assurance.

Mod. [With an affected surprise.] Madam !
Ara. You cannot mean all this.
Mode. Why not, madam?

Ara. Why, don't you know that I knowMode. I cannot help a lady's knowledge or imaginations. All I know is, that it is in your power to make me either the happiest, or most miserable man in the whole creation.

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Ara. Well, this is astonishing.

Mode. I am sorry, madam, that any unguarded behaviour of mine, any little playful gallantries, should have occasioned surmises, whichAra. Serious, as I hope to live?

Mode. Is it not enough to make one serious, when the woman one has pursued for years, almost with adoration, is induced, by mere appearances, to doubt the honourableness of one's intentions? Have you not heard me this moment apply to your brother, even in the midst of his uneasiness?—I little expected where the difficulty would lie.

Ara. Well, well, poor thing, I won't tease it any longer; here, there, take my hand.

Mode. Duped, by Jupiter!-[Aside.] O my everlasting treasure! And when, and when shall I be happy?

Ara. It shall depend upon yourself.

Mode. To-morrow, then, my angel, be the day. O Araminta, I cannot speak my transport!- -And did you really think I was in love with Celia?

Ara. Why, as a proof of my future sincerity, I must confess I did.

Mode. I wonder how you could! Ara. Come, come, there were grounds enough for a woman in love to go upon.

Mode. [Taking her by the hand.] But you are now perfectly easy!

Ara. [Pulling her hand from him.] Why, yes, I think I am.- -But what can my brother

mean about Belmour?

Mode. It is some trick of the widow's. Ara. I dare say she meant you, Mode. Possibly she might you know her motives.

Ara. Yes, yes; her passion for my brother is pretty notorious. But the wretch will be mistaken.- -To-morrow, you say?

-But my

Mode. To-morrow, my adorable. Ara. It shall be as you please.-----situation is so terribly awkward, that I must break from you. Adieu! [Exit ARA,

Mode. Upon my soul she is a fine woman, and loves me to distraction; and, what is still more, I most undoubtedly love her.------I have a good mind to take her.----Yet, not to have it in my power to succeed in the other place, would call my parts in question.No, no;---I must not disparage my parts neither.-In order to be a great character, one should go as near being a rogue as possible. I have a philosopher's opinion on my side in that, and the practice of half the heroes and politicians in Europe.

[Exit

SCENE I-Continues.

Enter BELMOUR.

ACT III.

Bel. CELIA in love with me! 'Egad the thing is not impossible; my friend Modely may have been a little mistaken. Sir John was very serious when he told me of it; and though I protested to him that I had never made the least advances, he still persisted in his opinion.---The girl must have told him so herself------Let me recollect a little. She is always extremely civil to me---but that, indeed, she is to every body.--I do not remember any thing particular in her looks; but I shall watch them more narrowly the next time I see her.She is very handsome; and yet, in my opinion, notwithstanding Modely's infidelity, Araminta is much the finer woman.---Suppose---No, that will not do.

Enter MODELY.

Mode. So, so, Mr Belmour, I imagined I should find you here; this is the lover's corner. We have all had our reveries in it. But why don't you talk louder, man? You ought, at least, to give me my revenge in that.-My soliloquies, you know, are easily overheard.

Bel. I never designedly over-heard them, Mr Modely; nor did I make any improper use of the accident.

Mode. Grave, very grave, and perfectly moral ! And so this is all I am to have for the loss of my mistress.--Heigh ho!

Then I must be content to see her bless
Yon happier youth.-

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Bel. What do you mean, then, by your marriage with Araminta? Why won't you unriddle this affair to me?

Mode. Because it is at present a riddle to myself, and I expect lady Beverley every moment to resolve the enigma.

Bel. Was it a scheme of her's?

Mode. Certainly, and I partly guess it, but will not unbosom till I know it fully.--Come, come, with all that gravity of countenance and curiosity, you must leave me instantly; the lady will be here, and the plot unravelled, and then——— Bel. I shail expect to be satisfied. [Exit. Mode. Ha, ha, ha! or else you will fight me, I suppose. Why, so you may; and so may sir John Dorilant too, and faith with some colour of reason. But my comfort is, that I have experience on my side; and if I survive the rencounter, I shall be a greater hero than ever amongst the ladies, and be esteemed in all companies as much a man of honour as the best of

you.

Enter LADY Beverley.

Lady Bev. Dear cousin Modely, I am all over in an agitation; we shall certainly be discover

Mode. What of her, madam?

Bel. Your raillery is a little unseasonable, Mred-that devil AramintaModely; for, to speak plainly, I begin to suspect that this is some trick of yours, to dupe me, as well as sir John Dorilant.

Mode. Upon my honour, no, if we must be serius: it may be a mistake; but not intended on iny side, I can a sure you. Come, come, if the girl really likes you, take her. It I should prove the happy man, give me joy, and there's an end of it.

Bel. I fancy you are used to disappointments in love, they sit so easy upon you.-Or rather, I should suppose, in this case, you are pretty sure of your ground.

Mode. Neither, upon my soul; but a certain Je ne scai quoi--Gaiete de coeur, which carries me above misfortunes; some people call it vanity. Bel. And are not absolutely mistaken. But what becomes of Araminta all this while? Mode. [Yawning.] I shall marry her, I believe,

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Lady Bev. Is now with her brother talking so eagerly-Oh! I saw her villainous changes in her countenance; I would have given the world to have overheard their conversation-Come, come, you must advise me instantly.

Mode. Your ladyship must first let me into the secret. I am absolutely in a wood with regard to the whole affair-What is all this of Celia and Belmour?

Lady Ber. Nothing, nothing at all; an errant dilemma of the foolish man's own making, which his impertinent sister will immediately clear up to him, and then all must come out.

Mode. But how came Belmour ever to be mentioned in the case?

Lady Bev. Dear, dear, he never was mentioned. I must confess that I was so provoked with sir John's unnatural behaviour, that I could not help telling him that Celia had a lover, and in the house, too. Your situation with regard to Mode. Yes; sir John is at this very moment Araminta made him never dream of you; and

to-morrow.

Bel. Marry her!

looking over the settlements.

Bel. I don't understand you.

consequently, all his suspicions turned on Bel

mour.

Mode. But you did not say that that lover had | heart I require. The lifeless form, beauteous as made his addresses to Celia? it is, would only elude my grasp; the shadow of a joy, not the reality,

Lady Bev. I don't know what I might have said; for he used me like a Turk. But whatever I said, I can unsay it again.

Mode. Why, if I might venture to advise a person of your ladyship's sagacity-

Lady Bev. O ay, with all my heart, cousin Modely. For though I may say, without vanity, that nobody has a more clear apprehension of things when the mental faculty is totally undisturbed; yet, when I am in a trepidation, nobody upon earth can be more glad of advice.

Mode. Why, then, madam, to speak with reverence, I should hope your ladyship would see the necessity of keeping me as concealed as possible. It is the young lady's passion, not mine, which must have the principal influence. Sir John Dorilant's peculiarity of temper is suchLady Beo. Yes, yes; he has peculiarity enough, that's certain.

Mode. And it is there, madam, as the weakest part, that our attack will be the surest. If she confesses an inclination for me, not both the Indies, added to her fortune, could induce him to marry her.

Lady Bev. That is honourable, however, cousin Modely. But he is a horrid creature, notwithstanding.

Mode. I grant it, madam; but a failure in an improper pursuit may recall his reason; and, as he does not want understanding, teach him to search for happiness where only it is to be expected.

Lady Bev. He! he! I am so angry with him at present, that I really believe I should refuse him.

Mode. Your ladyship must not be too cruel. Lady Bev. Why, I confess it is not in my nature; but bless me! Here they come-Let us run down this walk directly, for they must not see us together. [Exit.

Enter ARAMINTA and SIR JOHN DORILANT. Ara. Come along, I say; you dragged me into the garden just now, and I will command in my turn. Talk to her you must, and shall. The girl has sense and spirit when she is disengaged from that horrid mother of her's: and I have told her you wanted her, and in this very spot.

Sir John. You cannot feel, Araminta, what you make me suffer---But sooner or later it must come to this; and therefore, I will assume a resolution, and be rid of all my doubts at once.

Ara. I tell you, this nonsense about Belmour is merely a phantom of her mother's raising, to sound your intentions, and promote her own.

Sir John. Thus far is certain, that Belmour disclaims all knowledge of the affair, and with an appearance of sincerity; but even that is doubtful. Besides, they are not his, but her inclinanations, which give me any concern. It is the

Ara. Dear, dear, that men had but a little common sense! or that one could venture to tell them what one knows of one's own sex! I have a good mind to be honest-As I live, the girl is coming----I'll speed her on the way. Courage, brother! Voila! [Exit.

Sir John. How shall I begin with her?--What idiots are men, when they have a real passion! ridiculous beneath contempt- -[Walks about the stage.]Suppose I will not suppose : | the honest heart shall speak its faithful dictates, and if it fails- -why, let it.

Enter CELIA,

Celia. [With timidity.] Araminta tells me, sir that you have something to say to me.

Sir John. I have, madam- -Come forward, Miss Beverley-Would you choose to sit ?[They sit down. After some irresolute gesture.] You are not afraid of catching cold? Celia. Not in the least, sir.

Sir John. I know sitting in the open air has that effect upon some people--but your youth and constitution-Did my sister say any thing concerning the subject I should wish to speak to you upon?

Celia. She only told me, sir, that it was of

moment.

Sir John. It is of moment, indeed, CeliaBut you must not think that I am angry. Celia. Angry, sir!

Sir John. I don't mean angry-I am a little confused; but shall recover myself presently[Rises, and CELIA rises, too. Nay, pray sit, Miss Beverley-Whatever I feel myself, I would not disturb you- -[Returns to his seat ; then, after a pause, goes on.]- -The affair I would speak to you upon, is this:member your father perfectly?

Celia. And ever shall.

-You re

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