Pen. You've shown your passion to me with such honour that if I am confused, I know I should not be, to say I approve it; for I know no rules should make me insensible of generous usage. My person and my mind are yours for ever.
Love. Then doubts, and fears, and anxious cares be gone,
All ye black thoughts that did corrode my breast;
Here enter faith, and confidence, and love!
Love that can't live with jealousy, but dwells
With sacred marriage, truth, and mutual honour.
I knew not where you would bestow your vows,
But never doubted of your faith when given.
[Kissing her hand.
O. Book. You see, my son, how constancy's rewarded!
You have from nature every quality
To make you well become what fortune gave you;
But neither wit nor beauty, wealth nor courage,
Implicitly deserve the world's esteem;
They're only in their application good.
How could you fight a man you knew not why?
You don't think that 'tis great merely to dare?
'Tis that a man is just he should be bold.
Indeed you've erred.
Lat. You give my friend, methinks, too much compunction for a little levity in his actions—when he's too severe in his own reflections on 'em.
Pen. Well, Victoria, you see I take your advice at last in choice of Lovemore.
Vict. I congratulate your missing of the other.
Pen. I heartily believe you, my dear friend.
O. Book. But we best guide our actions by hopes of reward. Could but my son have such a glorious prospect as this fair one. [To Victoria.] I doubt not but his future carriage would deserve her.
Vict. I believe I may safely promise to approve of all the truth he tells me.
Y. Book. You've promised, then, to like all I shall say.
O. Book. These unexpected good events deserve our celebration with some mirth and fiddles.