Louisa. Do you then leave us, Mr Neville?
Nev. Yes, madam,—and for ever!—--May you be as blest in the gratification of your hopes as I have been wretched in the disappointment of mine.
[Exit.
Lady. Tyrant! I wish he had stayed to hear reason—I hope he is not serious in leaving us.
Louisa. You hope!—Why does it concern you?
Lady. Oh! no further than from that general love I bear mankind.—You forget my feelings on these occasions, Louisa.
Louisa. Yes, indeed—I have too much reason to attend to my own!—You'll excuse me—I have particular business—I'll return immediately.
[Exit.
Lady. Oh! the cause of her confusion is evident—she loves him still—but they shall never meet again—I have already sent a letter to Willoughby, which imparts a scheme I have long cherished. My lord, in his anger about my stage mania, has forgot Ennui's play; so, that there may be no bars to Willoughby's happiness, I am determined Louisa shall be his this very night.