Pen. What were your thoughts there?
Vict. That I owed it to our friendship to acknowledge to you that all the pleasure I once had in you is vanished. Ah, Penelope! I'm sorry for every good quality you have.
Pen. Since you are so frank, I must confess to you something very like this. But however I envied that sprightly, ingenuous, native beauty of yours, I see it now so much the figure of your mind that I can conquer, I think I can, any inclination in myself that opposes the happiness of so sincere a friend.
Vict. Explain yourself, my dear.
Pen. I'll discountenance this Bookwit's ambiguous addresses; and if Lovemore can forgive my late ill-usage——I need say no more.
Enter Servant.
Serv. Mr. Frederick below desires to see you on some extraordinary business.
Vict. I have not time, my dearest friend, to applaud or thank you, but must run in——He comes from Lovemore——remember. [Exit.
Pen. Let him come up——Now can't I for my life forbear a little tyranny.