Pereg. And may not one of your own sex have been treacherous to you?
Mary. No, sir; I'm very sure he was a man.
Dennis. Oh, the blackguard!
Mrs. Brul. Hold your tongue, do!
Pereg. Listen to me, child. I would proffer you friendship, for your own sake—for the sake of benevolence. When ages, indeed, are nearly equal, nature is prone to breathe so warmly on the blossoms of a friendship between the sexes, that the fruit is desire; but time, fair one, is scattering snow on my temples, while Hebe waves her freshest ringlets over yours. Rely, then, on one who has numbered years sufficient to correct his passions; who has encountered difficulties enough to teach him sympathy; and who would stretch forth his hand to a wandering female, and shelter her like a father.
Mary. Oh, sir! I do want protection sadly indeed! I am very miserable!
[Weeping.
Pereg. Come, do not droop. The cause of your distress, perhaps, is trifling; but, light gales of adversity will make women weep. A woman's tear falls like the dew that zephyrs shake from roses.—Nay, confide in me.
Mary. I will, sir; but——
[Looking round.