Sir Geo. 'Tis well, Madam;—your resentment of that circumstance proves to me, what I did not before suspect, that you are deficient both in tenderness and understanding.—Tremble to think the hour approaches, in which you would give worlds for such a proof of my love. Go, Madam, give yourself to the Public; abandon your heart to dissipation, and see if, in the scenes of gaiety and folly that await you, you can find a recompence for the lost affection of a doating Husband.
[Exit Sir George.
Flut. Lord! what a fine thing it is to have the gift of Speech! I suppose Sir George practises at Coachmakers-hall, or the Black-horse in Bond-street.
Lady Fran. He is really angry; I cannot go.
Mrs. Rack. Not go! Foolish Creature! you are arrived at the moment, which some time or other was sure to happen; and everything depends on the use you make of it.
Miss Ogle. Come, Lady Frances! don't hesitate!—the minutes are precious.
Lady Fran. I could find in my heart!—and yet I won't give up neither.—If I should in this instance, he'll expect it for ever.
[Exeunt Lady Frances, and Mrs. Racket.
Miss Ogle. Now you act like a Woman of Spirit.
[Exeunt Miss Ogle, and Mrs. Racket.