Lov. It must: that mournful Separation we must see.
A bitter Pill it is to all; but doubles its ungrateful Taste,
When Lovers are to swallow it;
Aman. Perhaps that Pain may only be my Lot,
You possibly may be exempted from it;
Men find out softer ways to quench their Fires.
Lov. Can you then doubt my Constancy, Amanda?
You'll find 'tis built upon a steady Basis——
The Rock of Reason now supports my Love,
On which it stands so fix'd,
The rudest Hurricane of wild Desire
Wou'd, like the Breath of a soft slumbering Babe,
Pass by, and never shake it.
Aman. Yet still 'tis safer to avoid the Storm;
The strongest Vessels, if they put to Sea,
May possibly be lost.
Wou'd I cou'd keep you here in this calm Port for ever!
Forgive the Weakness of a Woman,
I am uneasy at your going to stay so long in Town;
I know its false insinuating Pleasures;
I know the Force of its Delusions;
I know the Strength of its Attacks;
I know the weak Defence of Nature;
I know you are a Man—and I—a Wife.
Lov. You know then all that needs to give you Rest,
For Wife's the strongest Claim that you can urge.
When you would plead your Title to my Heart,
On this you may depend; therefore be calm,
Banish your Fears, for they are Traitors to your Peace:
Beware of them, they are insinuating busy Things
That gossip to and fro, and do a World of Mischief
Where they come: But you shall soon be Mistress of 'em all,
I'll aid you with such Arms for their Destruction,
They never shall erect their Heads again.
You know the Business is indispensible, that obliges
Me to go to London, and you have no Reason, that I
Know of, to believe that I'm glad of the Occasion:
For my honest Conscience is my Witness,
I have found a due Succession of such Charms
In my Retirement here with you,
I have never thrown one roving Thought that way;
But since, against my Will, I'm dragg'd once more
To that uneasy Theatre of Noise,
I am resolv'd to make such use on't,
As shall convince you 'tis an old cast Mistress,
Who has been so lavish of her Favours,
She's now grown Bankrupt of her Charms,
And has not one Allurement left to move me.
Aman. Her Bow, I do believe, is grown so weak,
Her Arrows (at this distance) cannot hurt you,
But in approaching 'em you give 'em Strength:
The Dart that has not far to fly,
Will put the best of Armour to a dangerous Trial.
Lov. That Trial past, and y'are at ease for ever;
When you have seen the Helmet prov'd,
You'll apprehend no more for him that wears it:
Therefore to put a lasting Period to your Fears,
I am resolv'd, this once, to launch into Temptation.
I'll give you an Essay of all my Virtues;
My former boon Companions of the Bottle
Shall fairly try what Charms are left in Wine:
I'll take my Place amongst them,
They shall hem me in,
Sing Praises to their God, and drink his Glory;
Turn wild Enthusiasts for his sake,
And Beasts to do him Honour:
Whilst I, a stubborn Atheist,
Sullenly look on,
Without one reverend Glass to his Divinity.
That for my Temperance,
Then for my Constancy——
Aman. Ay, there take heed.
Lov. Indeed the Danger's small.
Aman. And yet my Fears are great.