Eger.  I can.

Con.  They were of your conveying then?

Eger.  They were, madam.

Con.  I assure 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 ingratitude 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 gratitude, 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.