Man. My lord, I never thought, 'till now, it could be difficult to oblige you.
Lady Grace. [Aside.] Heaven's! how I tremble!
Lord Town. For you, my Lady Townly, I need not here repeat the provocations of my parting with you—the world, I fear, is too well informed of them——For the good lord, your dead father's sake, I will still support you, as his daughter——As the lord Townly's wife, you have had every thing a fond husband could bestow, and (to our mutual shame I speak it) more than happy wives desire——But those indulgences must end! State, equipage and splendor, but ill become the vices that misuse 'em——The decent necessaries of life shall be supply'd——but not one article to luxury! Not even the coach that waits to carry you from hence, shall you ever use again! Your tender aunt, my Lady Lovemore, with tears, this morning has consented to receive you; where if time, and your condition brings you to a due reflection, your allowance shall be increased——But if you still are lavish of your little, or pine for past licentious pleasures, that little shall be less! nor will I call that soul my friend, that names you in my hearing!
Lady Grace. My heart bleeds for her.
[Aside.
Lord Town. O Manly! look there! turn back thy thoughts with me, and witness to my growing love; there was a time when I believ'd that form incapable of vice or of decay! There I proposed the partner of an easy home! There I for ever hoped to find, a chearful companion, an agreeable intimate, a faithful friend, a useful help-mate, and a tender mother——But oh! how bitter now the disappointment!
Man. The world is different in its sense of happiness: offended as you are, I know you still will be just.
Lord Town. Fear me not.
Man. This last reproach, I see, has struck her.
[Aside.