Lady Town. My Lord, you may proceed as you please, but pray what indiscretions have I committed, that are not daily practis'd by a hundred other women of quality?
Lord Town. 'Tis not the number of ill wives, Madam, that makes the patience of a husband less contemptible: and though a bad one may be the best man's lot, yet he'll make a better figure in the world, that keeps his misfortunes out of doors, than he that tamely keeps her within.
Lady Town. I don't know what figure you may make, my Lord, but I shall have no reason to be asham'd of mine in whatever company I may meet you.
Lord Town. Be sparing of your spirit, Madam, you'll need it to support you.
Enter Lady Grace and Manly.
Mr. Manly, I have an act of friendship to beg of you, which wants more apologies, than words can make for it.
Man. Then pray make none, my Lord, that I may have the greater merit in obliging you.
Lord Town. Sister, I have the same excuse to intreat of you too.
Lady Grace. To your request, I beg, my Lord.
Lord Town. Thus then——as you both were present at my ill considered marriage, I now desire you each will be a witness of my determin'd separation——I know, Sir, your good nature, and my sister's must be shock'd at the office I impose on you! but as I don't ask your justification of my cause; so I hope you are conscious——that an ill woman can't reproach you, if you are silent, upon her side.