Man. No more of that, I beg, my Lord——
Lord Town. But 'twill, at least, be some relief to my anxiety (however barren of content the state has been to me) to see so near a friend and sister happy in it: your harmony of life will be an instance how much the choice of temper is preferable to beauty.
While your soft hours in mutual kindness move,
You'll reach by virtue what I lost by love.
[Exeunt.
[ACT IV. SCENE I.]
SCENE, Mrs. Motherly's House.
Enter Mrs. Motherly, meeting Myrtilla.
Moth. So, niece! where is it possible you can have been these six hours?