Charles. At present I can think of no Constitution but that of Love and Matrimony, sir.
Loveyet. And I shall be sorry if your matrimonial Constitution does not prove the better one of the two.—Eigh, Maria?
Worthnought. Dick Worthnought, esquire, thou art an ass and a liar; and, what is worse than both,—as poor as poverty. Oh, Fortune, thou blind disposer of human events, when wilt thou make a man of me?
[Going angrily.
Charles. Stay a little, if you please, sir.—My happiness is too great at present, to let me take that revenge, which the baseness of your conduct deserves: but justice bids me accuse you of having wickedly, and without cause, endeavoured to injure the reputation of this lady, whom it is my highest boast and felicity now to call my wife; my making her such, however, at the very time when the baneful tongue of Slander is so diligent to damn her spotless fame,—[Looking significantly at Cantwell and Herald.]—will at once convince the public of her innocence, and the cruelty of her enemies. With her, you have also injured her connexions; but I, for my own part, am fully satisfied with those symptoms of shame and repentance, which you now evince.
Trueman. Upon my education, I did not think him susceptible of either.—A few minutes ago, I received this audacious epistle from him.
"Sir, I have the honour to—acquaint you—that I have an inclination—to marry your daughter,—notwithstanding—the late scandalous—reports that are transpiring to her disadvantage, and (what is still worse) the—comparative meanness—of her fortune to mine."—The comparative meanness of her fortune to mine.
| Harriet, | Ha, ha, ha. | |
| Maria, | ||
| Loveyet, | ||
| Charles, | ||
| Frankton, |
Worthnought. Never was put so much to my trumps, 'foregad.
[Exit.