Lou. You seem amazed, sir.

Car. Your pardon, lady, if I confess it raises much my wonder, why a stranger, friendless, and unknown, should meet, unmerited, such floods of courtesy : for, if I mistake not, once this day before, I've tasted of your bounty.

Lou. I have forgot that; but I confess I saw you, sir.

Car. Why then was I forced either? If you relieved me only from a soft compassion of my fortune, you could not think but such humanity might, on the slightest hint, have drawn me to be grateful.

Lou. I own I could not trust you to my fortune; I knew not but some other might have seen you-beside, methought you spoke less kind to me before.

Car. If my poor thanks were offered in too plain a dress, (as I confess, I'm little practis'd in the rules of graced behaviour) rather think me ignorant, than rude, and pity what you cannot pardon.

Lou. Fie, you are too modest-how could you charge yourself with such a thought? I scarce can think 'tis in your nature to be rude at least to our

sex.

Car. 'Twere more unpardonable there.

Lou. Nay, now you are too strict on the other side; for there may happen times, when what the world calls rudeness, a woman might be brought to pardon, seasons, when even modesty were ignorance -Pray be seated, sirnay, I'll have it so

"I say, sometimes too much respect (pray be nearer,

sir) were most offensive:" suppose a woman were reduced to offer love, "her pains of shame are in"supportable: and should she call that lover rude, "who, kindly conscious of her wishes, bravely re"solves to take, and saves her modesty the guilt of "giving?" Suppose yourself the man so loved, where could you find at such a time, excuses for your modesty ?

Car. If I could love again, my eyes would tell her; if not, I should not easily believe; at least, in manners, would not seem to understand her.

"Lou. Alas, you have too poor a sense of woman's "love. Think you we have no invention? You "would not understand her; how would you avoid "it? When even her slightest look would speak too "plain for that excuse; if not, she'll still proceed

-Thus gently steal your hand, and sigh, and (6 press it to her heart, and then look wishing in your << eyes, 'till love himself shot forth, and waked you "to compassion.

"Car. Amazing! can she be the creature she de"scribes ?"

Lou. Oh, they have such subtle ways to steal into a lover's heart; nay, if she's resolute, not all your strength of modesty can guard you? she'd press you still with plainer, stronger proofs; her life, her fortune should be yours: for where a woman loves, such gifts as these are trifles; thus like the lazy minutes, would she steal 'em on, which once but past, are quite forgotten. [Gives him jewels.

Car. Is't possible! can there be such a woman?

Lou. Fie, I could chide you now; you would not sure be thought so slow of apprehension.

Car. I would not willingly be thought so vain, or so uncharitable, to suppose there could be such a

one.

Lou. Nay, now you force me to forsake my sex, and tell you plain-I cannot speak it-yet you must know" But tell me, myst I needs blush to "own a passion that's so tender of you?" I am this creature so reduced for you," and all you've seen "supposed was natural, all but the soft result of "growing love—Why are you still thus fixed, and "silent? what is't you fear?"

Car. Monstrous!

Lou. What is't you start at?

:

"[Aside, and rising."

Car. Not for your beauty; though I confess you fair to a perfection, complete in all that may engage the eye but when that beauty fades (as time leaves none unvisited) what charm shall then secure my love? Your riches? No-an honest mind's above the bribes of fortune: for though distressed, a stranger, and in want, I thus return 'em thankless. Be modest, and be virtuous, I'll admire you; all good men will adore you, and when your beauty and your fortune are no more, will still deliver down your name revered to ages : "but while you thus enslave

your generous reason to so intemperate a folly, your very nature seems inverted. Could you but "one moment calmly lay it by, you'd find such a

H

1

"vile indignity to your sex, as modesty could never

"pardon."

Lou. If I appear too free a lover, and talk beyond the usual courage of my sex, forgive me; I'll be again the fearful, soft'ning wretch, that you would have me my wishes shall be dumb, unless my eyes may speak 'em: "or if I dare to touch your hand, it "shall be gently, trembling and unperceived as air; 66 nay, fixed, and silent, as your shade, I'll watch "whole winter nights content, and listening to your "slumbers: Is this intemperance?" for pity speak, for I confess your hard, reproofs have struck upon my heart! Oh, say you will be mine, and make your own conditions. "If you suspect my temper, bind. me by the most sacred tie," and let my love, my person, and my fortune, lawfully be yours.

Car. Take heed! Consider yet, if even this humility be not the offspring of your first unruly passion but since at least it carries something a better claim to my concern, I'll be at once sincere, and tell you, 'tis impossible that we should ever meet in love.

Lou. Impossible! Oh, why?

Car. Because my love, my vows, and faith, are given to another: therefore, since you find I dare be honest, be early wise, and now release me to my fortune.

Lou. I cannot part with you.

Car. You must! I cannot with my reason→ Pray let me pass! Why do you thus hang upon my

arm, and strain your eyes, as if they had power to hold me?

Lou. Ungrateful! Will you go? Take heed! for you have proved I am not mistress of my temper.

Car. I see it, and am sorry, but needed not this threat to drive me; for still I dare be just, and force myself away. [Exit Carlos. Lou. Oh, torture! left! refused! despised! Have I thrown off my pride for this? Oh, insupportable! -If I am not revenged, may all the—well.

[Walks disordered.

D. Lew. What a pox, are all these fine things come to nothing then ?— -Poor soul! she's in great heat truly Ah, silly rogue !

-now could I find

humour again—I

she's a hummer!

-A strange mind, I ha'nt had such a mind a great while-Hey !ay; I'll do't, faith-if she does but stay now; ah, if she does but stay! [As he is getting from the balcony, Louisa is speaking to Jaques. Lou. Who waits there?

Enter JAQUES.

Where's the stranger?

Jaq. Madam, I met him just now walking hastily about the gallery.

Lou. Are all the doors fast?

Jaq. All barred, madam.

Lou. Put out all your lights too, and on your lives