[_Exeunt._]

SCENE.-_Mrs. Selby's Chamber._

MRS. FRAMPTON. KATHERINE.

MRS. FRAMPTON Did I express myself in terms so strong?

KATHERINE As nothing could have more affrighted me.

MRS. FRAMPTON Think it a hurt friend's jest, in retribution Of a suspected cooling hospitality.

And, for my staying here, or going hence, (Now I remember something of our argument,) Selby and I can settle that between us.

You look amazed. What if your husband, child, Himself has courted me to stay?

KATHERINE You move My wonder and my pleasure equally.

MRS. FRAMPTON Yes, courted me to stay, waiv'd all objections.

Made it a favour to yourselves; not me, His troublesome guest, as you surmised. Child, child!

When I recall his flattering welcome, I Begin to think the burden of my presence Was--

KATHERINE What, for Heaven--

MRS. FRAMPTON A little, little spice Of jealousy--that's all--an honest pretext, No wife need blush for. Say that you should see (As oftentimes we widows take such freedoms, Yet still on this side virtue,) in a jest Your husband pat me on the cheek, or steal A kiss, while you were by,--not else, for virtue's sake.

KATHERINE I could endure all this, thinking my husband Meant it in sport--

MRS. FRAMPTON But if in downright earnest (Putting myself out of the question here) Your Selby, as I partly do suspect, Own'd a divided heart--

KATHERINE My own would break--

MRS. FRAMPTON Why, what a blind and witless fool it is, That will not see its gains, its infinite gains--

KATHERINE Gain in a loss, Or mirth in utter desolation!

MRS. FRAMPTON He doting on a face--suppose it mine, Or any other's tolerably fair-- What need you care about a senseless secret?

KATHERINE Perplex'd and fearful woman! I in part Fathom your dangerous meaning. You have broke The worse than iron band, fretting the soul, By which you held me captive. Whether my husband _Is_ what you gave him out, or your fool'd fancy But dreams he is so, either way I am free.

MRS. FRAMPTON It talks it bravely, blazons out its shame; A very heroine while on its knees; Rowe's Penitent, an absolute Calista!

KATHERINE Not to thy wretched self these tears are falling; But to my husband, and offended heaven, Some drops are due--and then I sleep in peace, Reliev'd from frightful dreams, my dreams though sad.

[_Exit_.]

MRS. FRAMPTON I have gone too far. Who knows but in this mood She may forestall my story, win on Selby By a frank confession?--and the time draws on For our appointed meeting. The game's desperate, For which I play. A moment's difference May make it hers or mine. I fly to meet him.

[_Exit._]

SCENE.--_A Garden_.

MR. SELBY. MRS. FRAMPTON.

SELBY I am not so ill a guesser, Mrs. Frampton, Not to conjecture, that some pa.s.sages In your unfinished story, rightly interpreted, Glanced at my bosom's peace; You knew my wife?

MRS. FRAMPTON Even from her earliest school-days.--What of that?

Or how is she concerned in my fine riddles, Framed for the hour's amus.e.m.e.nt?

SELBY By my _hopes_ Of my new interest conceived in you, And by the honest pa.s.sion of my heart, Which not obliquely I to you did hint; Come from the clouds of misty allegory, And in plain language let me hear the worst.

Stand I disgraced or no?

MRS. FRAMPTON Then, by _my_ hopes Of my new interest conceiv'd in you, And by the kindling pa.s.sion in _my_ breast, Which through my riddles you had almost read, Adjured so strongly, I will tell you all.

In her school years, then bordering on fifteen, Or haply not much past, she loved a youth--

SELBY My most ingenuous Widow--

MRS. FRAMPTON Met him oft By stealth, where I still of the party was--

SELBY Prime confidant to all the school, I warrant, And general go-between-- [_Aside_.]

MRS. FRAMPTON One morn he came In breathless haste. "The ship was under sail, Or in few hours would be, that must convey Him and his destinies to barbarous sh.o.r.es, Where, should he perish by inglorious hands, It would be consolation in his death To have call'd his Katherine _his_."

SELBY Thus far the story Tallies with what I hoped.

[_Aside_.]

MRS. FRAMPTON Wavering between The doubt of doing wrong, and losing him; And my dissuasions not o'er hotly urged, Whom he had flatter'd with the bride-maid's part;--

SELBY I owe my subtle Widow, then, for this.

[_Aside_.]

MRS. FRAMPTON Briefly, we went to church. The ceremony Scarcely was huddled over, and the ring Yet cold upon her finger, when they parted-- He to his ship; and we to school got back, Scarce miss'd, before the dinner-bell could ring.

SELBY And from that hour--

MRS. FRAMPTON Nor sight, nor news of him, For aught that I could hear, she e'er obtain'd.

SELBY Like to a man that hovers in suspense Over a letter just receiv'd, on which The black seal hath impress'd its ominous token, Whether to open it or no, so I Suspended stand, whether to press my fate Further, or check ill curiosity That tempts me to more loss.--The name, the name Of this fine youth?

MRS. FRAMPTON What boots it, if 'twere told?

SELBY Now, by our loves, And by my hopes of happier wedlocks, some day To be accomplish'd, give me his name!