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Honeywood. Can't guess at the person.
Honeywood. I have ; but all I can learn is, that he chuses to remain concealed, and that all enquiry must be fruitless.
Must be fruitless!
Honeywood. Absolutely fruitless.
Sure of that?
Lofty. I suppose now, Mr. Honeywood, you think my rent-roll
very considerable, and that I have vast sums of money to throw away ; I know you do. The world to be sure says such things of me.
Honeywood. The world, by what I learn, is no stranger to yoạr generosity. But where does this tend ?
Lofty. To nothing ; nothing in the world. The town, to be sure, when it makes such a thing as me the subject of conversation, has asserted, that I never yet patronised a man of merit.
Honeywood. I have heard instances to the contrary, even from yourself.
Lofty. Yes, Honeywood, and there are instances to the contrary, that you shall never hear from myself.
Honeywood. Ha! dear Sir, permit me to ask you but one question.
Lofty. Sir, ask me no questions : I say, Sir, ask me no questions; I'll be damn'd if I answer them.
Honeywood. I will ask no farther. My friend ! my benefactor, it is, it must be here, that I am indebted for freedom, for honor. Yes, thou worthiest of men, from the beginning I suspected it, but was afraid to return thanks; which, if undeserved, might seem reproaches.
Lofty. I protest I do not understand all this, Mr. Honeywood. You treat me very cavalierly. . I do assure
you, Sir-Blood, Sir, can't a man be permitted to enjoy the luxury of his own feelings, without all this parade!
Honeywood. Nay, do not attempt to conceal an action that adds to your honor. Your looks, your air, your manner, all confess it.
Lofty. Confess it, Sir! Torture itself, Sir, shall never bring me to confess it. Mr. Honeywood, I have admitted you upon terms of friendship Don't let us fall out: make me happy, and let this be buried in oblivion : you know I hate ostentation : you know I do. Come, come, Honeywood, you know I always loved to be a friend, and not a patron. I beg this may make no kind of distance between us. Come, come, you and I must be more familiar. Indeed we must.
Honeywood. Heavens! can I ever repay such friendship? Is there any way! Thou best of men, can I ever return the obligation ?
Lofty. A bagatelle, a mere bagatelle! But I see your heart is laboring to be grateful. You shall be grateful. It would be cruel to disappoint you.
Lofty. From this moment you are mine. Yes, my friend, you shall know it I'm in love. Vol. II.
Honeywood, And can I assist you ?
Nobody so well.
Lofty. You shall make love for me.
Lofty. To a lady with whom you have great interest, I assure you : Miss Richland.
Miss Richland !
Lofty. Yes, Miss Richland. She has struck the blow up to the hilt in my bosom, by Jupiter.
Honeywood. Heavens! was ever any thing more unfortunate! It is too much to be endured.
Lofty. Unfortunatė indeed! And yet I can endure it, till you have opened the affair to her for me. Between ourselves, I think she likes me. I'm not apt to boast, but I think she does.
Honeywood Indeed! But, do you know the person you apply to ?
Lofty. Yes, I know you are her friend and mine : that's enough. To you, therefore, I commit the success of my passion. I'll say no more, let friendship do the rest. I have only to add, that if at any time my little interest can be of service-but, hang it, I'll make no promises--you know my interest is yours at any time. No apologies, my friend, I'll not be answered, it shall be so.
Honeywood. Open, generous, unsuspecting man ! He little thinks that I love her too; and with such an ardent passion! But then it was ever but a vain and hopeless one : my torment, my persecution : What shall I do! Love, friendship, a hopeless passion, a deserving friend! Love, that has been my tormentor; a friend that has, perhaps, distressed himself, to serve me. It shall be 50. Yes, I will discard the fondling hope from my bosom, and exert all my influence in his favor. And yet to see her in the possession of another:-Insupportable! But then to betray a generous, trusting friend Worse, worse! Yes, I'm resolved. Let me but be the instrument of their happiness, and then quit a country, where I must for ever despair of finding my own.
Enter OLIVIA and GARNET, who carries a Milliner's
Olivia. Dear me, I wish this journey were over. No news of Jarvis yet? I believe the old peevish creature delays purely to vex me.