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Aim. You're very happy, Mr. Boniface: pray what other company have you in town?

Bon. A power of fine ladies; and then we have the French officers.

Aim. O that's right, you have a good many of those gentlemen: pray how do you like their company?

Bon. So well, as the saying is, that I could wish we had as many more of 'em. They're full of money, and pay double for every thing they have. They know, sir, that we paid good round taxes for the making of 'em, and so they are willing to reimburse us a little one of 'em lodges in my house. [Bell rings.]—I beg your worship's pardon-I'll wait on you in half a minute.





Bevil. WELL, Mr. Myrtle, your commands with me?

Myrtle. The time, the place, our long acquaintance, and many other circumstances, which affect me on this occasion, oblige me, without further ceremony, or conference, to desire you would not only, as you already have, acknowledge the receipt of my letter, but also comply with the request in it. I must have further notice taken of my message than these half lines-I have yours-I shall be at home

Bev. Sir, I own I have received a letter from

you, in a very unusual style; but as I design every thing in this matter shall be your own action, your own seeking, I shall understand nothing but what you are pleased to confirm face to face, and I have already forgot the contents of your epistle.

Myr. This cool manner is very agreeable to the abuse you have already made of my simplicity and frankness; and I see your moderation tends to your own advantage, and not mine; to your own safety, not consideration of your friend.

Bev. My own safety, Mr. Myrtle!
Myr. Your own safety, Mr. Bevil.

Bev. Look you, Mr. Myrtle, there's no disguising that I understand what you would be at. But, sir, you know I have often dared to disapprove of the decisions a tyrant custom has introduced, to the breach of all laws both divine and human.

Myr. Mr. Bevil, Mr. Bevil, it would be a good first principle, in those who have so tender a conscience that way, to have as much abhorrence of doing injuries, as

Bev. As what?

Myr. As fear of answering for 'em.

Bev. As fear of answering for 'em! But that apprehension is just or blameable, according to the object of that fear-I have often told you, in confidence of heart, I abhorred the daring to offend the Author of life, and rushing into his presence ;--I say, by the very same act, to commit a crime against him, and immediately to urge on to his tribunal.

Myr. Mr. Bevil, I must tell you, this coolness, this gravity, this show of conscience, shall never cheat me of my mistress. You have, indeed,

the best excuse for life, the hopes of possessing Lucinda: but, consider, sir, I have as much reason to be weary of it, if I am to lose her; and my first attempt to recover her, shall be to let her see the dauntless man who is to be her guardian and pro


Bev. Sir, show me but the least glimpse of argument, that I am authorized, by my own hand, to vindicate any lawless insult of this nature, and I will show thee, to chastise thee, hardly deserves the name of courage. Slight, inconsiderate man! There is, Mr. Myrtle, no such terrour in quick anger; and you shall, you know not why, be cool, as you have, you know not why, been warm.

Myr. Is the woman one loves so little an occasion of anger? You, perhaps, who know not what it is to love, who have your ready, your commodious, your foreign trinket, for your loose hours; and from your fortune, your specious outward carriage, and other lucky circumstances, as easy a way to the possession of a woman of honour; you know nothing of what it is to be alarmed, to be distracted with anxiety and terror of losing more than life. Your marriage, happy man! goes on like common business, and in the interim, you have your rambling captive, your Indian princess, for your soft moments of dalliance, your convenient, your ready Indiana.

Bev. You have touched me beyond the patience of a man; and I am excusable in the guard of innocence, or from the infirmity of human nature, which can bear no more, to accept your invitation, and observe your letter-Sir, I will attend you.

Enter TOM.

Tom. Did you call, sir? I thought you did. I heard you speak aloud.

Bev. Yes, go call a coach.

Tom. Sir-Master- Mr. Myrtle-Friends-What d'ye mean? I am but a ser


vant, or

Bev. Call a coach.

-Shall I, though provoked to the uttermost, recover myself at the entrance of a third person, and that my servant too, and not have respect enough to all I have ever been receiving from infancy, the obligation to the best of fathers, to an unhappy virgin too, whose life depends on mine

-I have, thank Heaven, had time to recollect myself, and shall not, for fear of what such a rash man as you think of me, keep longer unexplained the false appearances, under which your infirmity of temper makes you suffer; when, perhaps, too much regard to a false point of honour, makes me prolong that suffering.

Myr. I am sure, Mr. Bevil cannot doubt, but I had rather have satisfaction from his innocence, than his sword.

Bev. Why then would you ask it first that way? Myr. Consider, you kept your temper yourself no longer than till I spoke to the disadvantage of her you loved.

Bev. True. But let me tell you, I have saved you from the most exquisite distress, even though you had succeeded in the dispute. I know you so well, that I am sure, to have found this letter about a man you had killed, would have been

worse than death to yourself-Read it-When he is thoroughly mortified, and shame has got the better of jealousy, he will deserve to be assisted towards obtaining Lucinda.

Myr. With what a superiority has he turned the injury on me, as the aggressor! I begin to fear I have been too far transported—'A treaty in our family!'-Is not that saying too much? I shall relapse-But I find-something like jealousy'— With what face can I see my benefactor, my advocate, whom I have treated like a betrayer.— -Oh, Bevil! with what words shall I—————

Bev. There needs none; to convince, is much more than to conquer.

Myr. But can you——

Bev. You have o'erpaid the inquietude you gave me, in the change I see in you towards me. Alas, what machines are we! thy face is alter'd to that of another man; to that of my companion, my friend.

Myr. That I could be such a precipitate wretch!
Bev. Pray no more.

Myr. Let me reflect how many friends have died by the hands of friends, for want of temper; and you must give me leave to say again and again, how much I am beholden to that superior spirit you have subdued me with.-What had become of one of us, or perhaps both, had you been as weak as I was, and as incapable of reason?

Ber. I congratulate us both on this escape from ourselves, and hope the memory of it will make us dearer friends than ever.

Myr. Dear Bevil, your friendly conduct has convinced me that there is nothing manly, but

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