Mari. Your own case! Lord! you base man, have you got a young lady in your lodgings?
Vapid. Ridiculous! don't talk about young ladies at such an awful—the very situation in my comedy! the last scene to a syllable!—here's an opportunity of improving the denouement!
Enter Peter.
Peter. Ma'am, my master is returned—the occasion of his delay has been a long interview with Mr Willoughby,—he doesn't know you are here.
Louisa. Marianne, excuse me—you'll be safe from Lady Waitfor't here—indeed I'm very ill.
Mari. Nay—where are you going?
Louisa. Alas! any where to avoid him—farewell! and may you enjoy that happiness I have for ever lost!
[Exit.
Mari. Poor dear girl! I mustn't leave her thus—Mr Vapid, we won't run away till something is done for her.
Vapid. Go,—there's a good girl—follow her, and comfort her.