[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-4side.] 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 know—— Mode. 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.

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?

Mode, To-morrow, my adorable,

Ara. It shall be as you please.----But my 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

Mode. But you did not say that that lover had made his addresses to Celia?

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 such— Lady Bev. 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 sce 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

heart I require. The lifeless form, beauteous as it is, would only elude my grasp; the shadow of a joy, not the reality.

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

Celia. I can be displeased with nothing from you, sir; and am ready to obey you, be your commands what they will.

Sir John. Commands, Celia !That's a hard word.

Celia. I am sorry it offends you.

Sir John. You know best, Celia, whether it ought to offend me---would I could read the sentiments of your heart! Mine are but too apparent--In short, my dear, you know the purport of your father's will--dare you fulfil it?

Celia. To the minutest circumstance-It is my duty.

Sir John. Ah, Celia! that word duty destroys the obligation.

Celia. Sir!

Sir John. I don't know how it is, but I am afraid to ask you the only question, which, sincerely answered, could make me happy---or miserable. Half aside. Celia. Let me beg of you, sir, to ask it freely. Sir John. Well, then-is your heart your own!--O Celia! that hesitation confirms my fears. You cannot answer in the affirmative; and have too much humanity for what I feel, to add to my torments---Good God !--and is it possible, that an acquaintance of a few days should entirely obliterate the attentive assiduity, the tender anxieties, which I have shewn for years? -but I understand it all too well. Mine were the awful, though heart-felt attentions of a parent his, the sprightly address of a presuming lover. His easy assurance has won upon your affections; and, what I thought my greatest merit, has undone me.

Celia. You were so good, sir, a little while ago, to pity my confusion; pity it now; and, whilst I lay my heart open before you, be again that kind, that generous friend, which I have always found you.

Sir John. Go on.

Celia. It is in vain for me to dissemble an ignorance of your meaning; nor would I, if I could. I own I have been too much pleased with Mr Modely's conversation.

Sir John. Modely's!

Celia. Let me go on. His intended marriage with Araminta gave him a freedom in this family, which it was not my business to restrain. His attention to my mother, and the friendly manner in which he executed some commissions of consequence to her, gave him frequent opportunities of talking to me. I will confess, too, that his appearance and his manner struck me. But I was so convinced of his real passion for Araminta, that I never dreamt of the least attachment to me, till

day!

Celia. I knew it was so intended; but his behaviour this morning, and the intercessions of my mother, had, I own, won upon me strangely; and induced me to believe that I only was the object of his pursuit.

Sir John. I am thunderstruck !

Celia. My mother made me clearly perceive, that the completion of his marriage would be an injury to Araminta. She told me, too, sir, that you yourself would be my adviser in the affair, and even persuade me to accept it.

Sir John. O, the malicious woman!

Celia. In that, indeed, I perceive she greatly erred. And I only mean this as a confession of what is past, and of what is now at an end for ever. For the future, I give myself to your guidance alone, and am what you direct

[Giving her hand to him. Sir John. Thou amiable softness! No, Celia; however miserable I may be myself, I will not make you so; it was your heart, not your hand, I aspired to. As the former has been seduced from me, it would be an injustice to us both, to accept of the latter. As to Mr Modely, and lady Beverley, I have not deserved this treachery from them, and they shall both feel my resentment.

Celia. Sir!

Sir John. She told me, indeed, there was a favoured lover; and my suspicions fell very naturally upon Belmour. Nay, even now, nothing but that lovely sincerity-which undoes me-could make me credit this villainy of Modely. O Celia! what a heart have I lost!

Celia. You cannot, shall not lose it; worth less as it is, 'tis yours, and only yours, my father, guardian, lover, husband!

[Hangs upon him, weeping.

Celia. I cannot speak

[Throwing herself into a chair. Ara. I'll be hanged if this fellow Modely has not talked you into an opinion, that he is in love with you. Indeed, my dear, your youth and inexperience may lead you into strange scrapes: and that mother of yours is enough to turn any girl's head in the universe. Come, come, unriddle this affair to me.

Celia. Alas, madam! all I know is, that the only man I ever did, or ever can esteem, despises me, and, I fear, hates me.

Ara. Hates you! he doats upon you to distraction. But, pray, did Modely ever make any serious addresses to you?

Celia. Alas! but too often.

Ara. The hypocrite! but I'll be even with him. And your mother, I suppose, encouraged him? An infamous woman! But I know her drift well enough

Enter LADY BEVERLEY.

Lady Bev. Where is my poor girl? I met sir John Dorilant in such a furious way, that he seems to have lost all common civility. What have they done to you, child?

Ara. Done to her? What has your ladyship done to her? I knew your little artifices long ago, but

Lady Ber. My artifices, Araminta !

Ard. Your artifices, lady Beverley; but they are all to no purpose; the girl has too good an understanding to be imposed on any longer; and your boasted machinations are as vain and empty in their effects, as in their contrivance.

Lady Bev. What does the woman mean? But the loss of a lover, I suppose, is an excuse for ill-breeding. Poor creature! if the petulancy of thy temper would let me, I could almost pity thee. The loss of a lover is no agreeable thing; but women at our time of life, Mrs Araminta, must not expect a lasting passion.

Ara. Scarce any at all I believe, if they go a wooing themselves. For my part, I have had the satisfaction of being solicited, however.And I am afraid my rustic brother never gave your ladyship's solicitations even the slightest encouragement. How was it? Did you find him

Celia. [Interposing.] Dear Araminta !

Ara. But your ladyship may be mistaken even in that, too. I may find him at his solicitations again; and if I do

Lady Bev. You'll take him.

Ard. Take him?-Daggers and poison sooner. Lady Bev. Poor creature! Come, Celia, words do but aggravate her misfortune. We only disturb her. You see, my dear, what are the effects of too violent a passion. It may be a lesson for your future conduct.

me.

Ara. Look you, lady Beverley, don't provoke

Lady Bev. Why, what will ye do? Celia. [Interposing.] For Heaven's sake, madam

Lady Bev. I fancy, Mrs Araminta, instead of quarrelling, we had better join forces. If we could but get the girl out of the way, we might both succeed.

Ara. You are a wicked woman.

Lady Bev. Poor creature! shall I say any thing to my cousin Modely for you? You know I have weight with him.

Ara. Yes, madam; you may tell him that his connections with you have rendered him ridiculous; and that the revenge of an injured woman is never contemptible. [Exit.

Lady Bev. [Leading off CELIA on the other side.] Poor creature! Come along, child.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-Continues.

Enter SIR JOHN DORILANT.

Sir John. THIS fatal spot, which draws me to it almost involuntarily, must be the scene of another interview. Thank Heaven, I have recovered myself. Nor shall any misery which I may

suffer, much less any prospect of a mean revenge, make me act unbecoming my character. Enter ARAMINTA.

Ara. Well, brother, I hope you are resolved to marry this girl?

Sir John. Marry her, my dear Araminta! Can