Charl. Whilst I am reserv’d for a dead Lift, if Fortune prove unkind, or wicked Uncles refractory: Yet I cou’d love you though you were a Slave, [In a soft Tone to him. And I were Queen of all the Universe.
Mrs. Clack. Ay, there you spoil’d all again—you forgot your self.
Charl. And all the World when he looks kindly on me. But I’ll take Courage and be very angry. [Aside. Nor do your Perjuries rest here; you’re equally as false to Galliard, as to me; false for a little Mistress of the Town, whom you’ve set up in spite to Quality. [Angry.
Mrs. Clack. So, that was home and handsom.
Wild. What damn’d Informer does she keep in pension?
Charl. And can you think my Fortune and my Youth
Merits no better Treatment? [Angry.
How cou’d you have the Heart to use me so? [Soft to him.
I fall insensibly to Love and Fondness. [Aside.
Wild. Ah, my dear Charlot! you who know my Heart, can you believe me false?
Charl. In every Syllable, in every Look;
Your Vows, your Sighs, and Eyes, all counterfeit.
You said you lov’d me, where was then your Truth?
You swore you were to be your Uncle’s Heir;
Where was your Confidence of me the while.
To think my Generosity so scanted,
To love you for your Fortune?
—How every Look betrays my yielding Heart! [Aside.
No, since Men are grown so cunning in their
Trade of Love, the necessary Vice I’ll practise too,
And chaffer with Love-Merchants for my Heart.
Make it appear you are your Uncle’s Heir,
I’ll marry ye to morrow.
Of all thy Cheats, that was the most unkind,
Because you thought to conquer by that Lye.
To night I’ll be resolv’d.
Wild. Hum! to night!
Charl. To night, or I will think you love me for my Fortune;
Which if you find elsewhere to more advantage,
I may unpitied die—and I shou’d die
If you should prove untrue. [Tenderly to him.