Peg. Ah! Phœbe, she that has lost her Virtue, has with it lost her Ease, and all her Happiness. Believing, cheated Fool! to think him false.
Phœ. Be patient, Madam, I hope you will shortly be reveng'd on that deceitful Lord.
Peg. I hope I shall, for that were just Revenge. But will Revenge make me happy? Will it excuse my Falshood? Will it restore me to the Heart of my much-injur'd Love? Ah! no. That blooming Innocence he us'd to praise, and call the greatest Beauty of our Sex, is gone. I have no Charm left that might renew that Flame I took such Pains to quench.
[Knocking at the Door.
See who's there. O Heavens 'tis he! Alas! that ever I should be asham'd to see the Man I love!
Enter Richard, who stands looking on her at a Distance, she weeping.
Dick. Well, Peggy (but I suppose you're Madam now in that fine Dress) you see you have brought me back; is it to triumph in your Falshood? or am I to receive the slighted Leavings of your fine Lord?
Peg. O Richard! after the Injury I have done you, I cannot look on you without Confusion: But do not think so hardly of me; I stay'd not to be slighted by him, for the Moment I discover'd his vile Plot on you, I fled his Sight, nor could he e'er prevail to see me since.
Dick. Ah, Peggy! you were too hasty in believing, and much I fear, the Vengeance aim'd at me, had other Charms to recommend it to you: Such Bravery as that [Pointing to her Cloaths] I had not to bestow; but if a tender, honest Heart could please, you had it all; and if I wish'd for more, 'twas for your sake.
Peg. O Richard! when you consider the wicked Stratagem he contriv'd to make me think you base and deceitful, I hope you will, at least, pity my Folly, and, in some Measure, excuse my Falshood; that you will forgive me, I dare not hope.