_Bet_. For, indeed, sir, I am no busybody, nor do I love fending nor proving; and, I a.s.sure you, sir, I hate all t.i.ttling and tattling, and gossiping and backbiting, and taking away a person's good name.

_Sid_. I observe you do, Mrs. Betty.

_Set_. I do indeed, sir. I am the farthest from it in the world.

_Sid_. I dare say you are.

_Bet_. I am indeed, sir, and so your humble servant.

_Sid_. Your servant, Mrs. Betty.

_Bet_. [_Aside, in great exultation_.] So! I see he believes every word I say,--that's charming. I'll do her business for her I am resolved.

[_Exit._

_Sid_. What can this ridiculous creature mean by her dark walk,--her private spark, her kissing, and all her slanderous insinuations against Constantia, whose conduct is as unblamable as innocence itself? I see envy is as malignant in a paltry waiting wench, as in the vainest or most ambitious lady of the court.--It is always an infallible mark of the basest nature; and merit in the lowest, as well as in the highest station, must feel the shaft of envy's constant agents--falsehood and slander.

_Enter_ SAM.

_Sam_. Sir, Mr. Egerton and Miss Constantia desire to speak with you in the china room.

_Sid_. Very well, Sam. [_Exit_ Sam.] I will not see them.--What is to be done? inform his father of his intended marriage,--no--that must not be;-- for the overbearing nature and ambitious policy of Sir Pertinax would exceed all bounds of moderation; for he is of a sharp, shrewd, unforgiving nature.--He has banished one son already, only for daring to differ from his judgment concerning the merits of a Scotch and an English historian.-- But this young man must not marry Constantia.--Would his mother were here!

She, I suppose, knows nothing of his indiscretion:--but she shall, the moment she comes. .h.i.ther. I know it will offend him; no matter: it is our duty to offend,--when that offence saves the man we love from a precipitate action, which the world must condemn, and his own heart, perhaps, upon reflection, for ever repent: yes,--I must discharge the duty of my function, and of a friend,--though I am sure to lose the man, whom I intend to serve. [_Exit._

END OF THE FIRST ACT.

_ACT II. SCENE I_.

_Enter_ CONSTANTIA _and_ EGERTON.

_Con_. Mr. Sidney is not here, sir.

_Eger_. I a.s.sure you I left him, and begged he would stay till I returned.

_Con_. His prudence, you see, sir, has made him retire; therefore we had better defer the subject till he is present; in the mean time, sir, I hope you will permit me to mention an affair that has greatly alarmed and perplexed me: I suppose you guess what it is.

_Eger_. I do not, upon my word.

_Con_. That is a little strange.--You know, sir, that you and Mr. Sidney did me the honour of breakfasting with me this morning in my little study.

_Eger_. We had that happiness, madam.

_Con_. Just after you left me, upon opening my book of accompts, which lay in the drawer of the reading desk, to my great surprise, I there found this case of jewels, containing a most elegant pair of ear-rings, a necklace of great value, and two bank bills in this pocket book, the mystery of which, sir, I presume you can explain.

_Eger_. I can.

_Con_. They were of your conveying then?

_Eger_. They were, madam.

_Con_. I a.s.sure you they startled and alarmed me.

_Eger_. I hope it was a kind alarm;--such as blushing virtue feels, when, with her hand, she gives her heart and last consent.

_Con_. It was not indeed, sir.

_Eger_. Do not say so, Constantia: come--be kind at once;--my peace and worldly bliss depend upon this moment.

_Con_. What would you have me do?

_Eger_. What love and virtue dictate.

_Con_. O! sir, experience but too severely proves, that such unequal matches as ours, never produce aught but contempt and anger in parents, censure from the world, and a long train of sorrow and repentance in the wretched parties,--which is but too often entailed upon their hapless issue.

_Eger_. But that, Constantia, can not be our case: my fortune is independent and ample,--equal to luxury and splendid folly. I have a right to choose the partner of my heart,

_Con_. But I have not, sir.--I am a dependant on my lady,--a poor, forsaken, helpless orphan--your benevolent mother found me--took me to her bosom--and there supplied my parental loss--with every tender care-- indulgent dalliance, and with all the sweet persuasion that maternal fondness, religious precept, polished manners, and hourly example could administer--she fostered me: [_weeps._] and shall I now turn viper,--and with black ingrat.i.tude sting the tender heart that thus hath cherished me?

shall I seduce her house's heir, and kill her peace?--No--though I loved to the mad extreme of female fondness; though every worldly bliss that woman's vanity or man's ambition could desire, followed the indulgence of my love--and all the contempt and misery of this life, the denial of that indulgence--I would discharge my duty to my benefactress--my earthly guardian, my more than parent.

_Eger_. My dear Constantia, your prudence, your grat.i.tude, and the cruel virtue of your self-denial, do but increase my love, my admiration, and my misery.

_Con_. Sir, I must beg you will give me leave to return these bills and jewels.

_Eger_. Pray do not mention them:--sure my kindness and esteem may be indulged so far without suspicion or reproach.--I beg you will accept of them,--nay--I insist.

_Con_. I have done, sir: my station here is to obey.--I know, sir, they are gifts of a virtuous mind--and mine shall convert them to the tenderest, and most grateful use.

_Eger_. Hark! I hear a coach:--it is my father.--Dear girl, retire and compose yourself.--I will send Sidney and my lady to you, and by their judgment we will be directed: will that satisfy you?

_Con_. I can have no will but my lady's.--With your leave I will retire; I would not see her in this confusion.

_Eger_. Dear girl, adieu! and think of love, of happiness, and the man who never can be blest without you. [_Exit_ Constantia.

_Enter_ SAM.

_Sam_. Sir Pertinax and my lady are come, sir,--and my lady desires to speak with you in her own room:--oh! here she is, sir. [_Exit._

_Enter Lady_ MACSYCOPHANT.

_Lady Mac_. [_In great confusion and distress._] Dear child, I am glad to see you: why did you not come to town yesterday to attend the levee? your father is incensed to the uttermost at your not being there.

_Eger_. [_With great warmth._] Madam, it is with extreme regret I tell you, that I can no longer be a slave to his temper, his politics, and his scheme of marrying me to this woman,--therefore you had better consent at once to my going out of the kingdom, and my taking Constantia with me, for without her I never can be happy.

_Lady Mac_. As you regard my peace, or your own character, I beg you will not be guilty of so rash a step.--You promised me you never would marry her without my consent.--I will open it to your father.--Pray, dear Charles, be ruled:--let me prevail.