Enter Blandish.
Lady E. Blandish, I am horridly peevish; have you any thing new to divert me?
Blandish. If you ask me for news, the latest is, that Clifford has been detected in a clandestine intercourse with the object of Lord Gayville's secret passion; that he has betrayed the confidence of his friend and patron, and actually carried her off. [Aside.] Which, Gayville knows by this time, with all its aggravations, or Prompt has not been as active as he used to be.
Lady E. [With Emotion.] Blandish, this is a poor project. Clifford treacherous to his friend? You might as soon make me believe Gayville dispassionate, my uncle charitable, or you ingenuous.
Blandish. His conduct does not rest upon opinion, but proof; and when you know it, you must think of him with aversion.
Lady E. Must I? Then don't let me hear a word more—I have aversions enough already—
[Peevishly.
Blandish. It is impossible you can apply that word to one whose only offence is to adore you.
[Kisses her Hand.
Enter Clifford.