COLONEL TOWNLY.
Faith, Tom, I am at present most whimsically circumstanced. I came here a month ago to meet the lady you mention; but she failing in her promise, I, partly from pique and partly from idleness, have been diverting my chagrin by offering up incense to the beauties of Amanda, our friend Loveless’s wife.
TOM FASHION.
I never have seen her, but have heard her spoken of as a youthful wonder of beauty and prudence.
COLONEL TOWNLY.
She is so indeed; and, Loveless being too careless and insensible of the treasure he possesses, my lodging in the same house has given me a thousand opportunities of making my assiduities acceptable; so that, in less than a fortnight, I began to bear my disappointment from the widow with the most Christian resignation.
TOM FASHION.
And Berinthia has never appeared?
COLONEL TOWNLY.
Oh, there’s the perplexity! for, just as I began not to care whether I ever saw her again or not, last night she arrived.
TOM FASHION.
And instantly resumed her empire.
COLONEL TOWNLY.
No, faith—we met—but, the lady not condescending to give me any serious reasons for having fooled me for a month, I left her in a huff.
TOM FASHION.
Well, well, I’ll answer for it she’ll soon resume her power, especially as friendship will prevent your pursuing the other too far. But my coxcomb of a brother is an admirer of Amanda’s too, is he?
COLONEL TOWNLY.
Yes, and I believe is most heartily despised by her. But come with me, and you shall see her and your old friend Loveless.
TOM FASHION.
I must pay my respects to his lordship—perhaps you can direct me to his lodgings.