Sir C. [Aside.] Two thousand a-year to Clifford! It's a pity, for the parade of disinterestedness, that he opened his designs upon Emily, before he knew his pretensions.
Lady E. [Aside.] Now, if there were twenty ceilings, and as many floors, could not I find a spot to settle my silly looks upon.
[Sir Clement observes her with his usual Shyness.
Sir C. [Turning towards Alscrip.] Palm a false title upon me? I should have thought the attempt beyond the collective assurance of Westminster-hall—and he takes the loss as much to heart as if he bought the estate with his own money.
Alscrip. [With Hesitation.] Sir Clement—what think you—of an amicable adjustment of all these businesses?
Sir C. [Ironically.] Nothing can be more reasonable. The value of Miss Alscrip's amiable disposition, placed against the abatement of her fortune, is a matter of the most easy computation; and to decide the portion, Mr. Clifford ought to relinquish of his acquisition—Lady Emily—will you be a referée?
Lady E. [Aside.] Yes, the lynx has me—I thought I should not escape.—[To him.] No, sir; my poor abilities only extend to an amicable endeavour here. [To Miss Alscrip.] And really, Miss Alscrip, I see no reason for your being dispirited; there may be many ready-made titles at market, within the reach of your purse. Or, why should not a woman of your consequence originate her own splendour? there's an old admirer of mine—He would make a very pretty lord—and indeed, would contribute something on his own part, to ease the purchase—The Blandish family is well with all administrations, and a new coronet is always as big again as an old one. I don't see how you could lay out part of your independency to more advantage.
Blandish. [Aside.] Yes, but since flaws are in fashion, I shall look a little into things before I agree to the bargain.
Miss Als. [Aside.] I'll die before I'll discover my vexation—and yet, [Half crying.] no title—no place.
Lady E. Depend upon it, Miss Alscrip, your place will be found exactly where it ought to be. The public eye, in this country, is never long deceived—Believe me—and cherish obscurity—Title may bring forward merits, but it also places our defects in horrid relief.