SELBY
How have three little syllables pluck'd from me
A world of countless hopes!—
[Aside.]
Evasive Widow.
MRS. FRAMPTON
How, Sir! I like not this.
[Aside.]
SELBY
No, no, I meant
Nothing but good to thee. That other woman,
How shall I call her but evasive, false,
And treacherous?—by the trust I place in thee,
Tell me, and tell me truly, was the name
As you pronounced it?
MRS. FRAMPTON
Huntingdon—the name,
Which his paternal grandfather assumed,
Together with the estates, of a remote
Kinsman; but our high-spirited youth—
SELBY
Yes—
MRS. FRAMPTON
Disdaining
For sordid pelf to truck the family honours,
At risk of the lost estates, resumed the old style,
And answer'd only to the name of—
SELBY
What?
MRS. FRAMPTON
Of Halford—
SELBY
A Huntingdon to Halford changed so soon!
Why, then I see, a witch hath her good spells,
As well as bad, and can by a backward charm
Unruffle the foul storm she has just been raising.
[Aside.]
[He makes the signal.]
My frank, fair spoken Widow! let this kiss,
Which yet aspires no higher, speak my thanks,
Till I can think on greater.