Elv. I have seen this man, father, and have encouraged his addresses; he's a young gentleman, a soldier, of a most winning carriage: and what his courtship may produce at last, I know not; but I am afraid of my own frailty.
Dom. 'Tis he, for certain;—she has saved the credit of my function, by speaking first; now must I take gravity upon me.
[Aside.
Gom. This whispering bodes me no good, for certain; but he has me so plaguily under the lash, that I dare not interrupt him.
[Aside.
417 Dom. Daughter, daughter, do you remember your matrimonial vow?
Elv. Yes, to my sorrow, father, I do remember it; a miserable woman it has made me: but you know, father, a marriage-vow is but a thing of course, which all women take when they would get a husband.
Dom. A vow is a very solemn thing; and 'tis good to keep it: but, notwithstanding, it may be broken upon some occasions. Have you striven with all your might against this frailty?
Elv. Yes, I have striven; but I found it was against the stream. Love, you know, father, is a great vow-maker; but he's a greater vow-breaker.
Dom. 'Tis your duty to strive always; but, notwithstanding, when we have done our utmost, it extenuates the sin.
Gom. I can hold no longer.—Now, gentlewoman, you are confessing your enormities; I know it, by that hypocritical downcast look:—enjoin her to sit bare upon a bed of nettles, father; you can do no less, in conscience.
Dom. Hold your peace; are you growing malapert? will you force me to make use of my authority? your wife's a well disposed and a virtuous lady; I say it, In verbo sacerdotis.