Sev. The northern young lady you have often heard me talk of, is in town, and lay in this house last night.
Umb. That has been the conversation of the green-room.—But what do you design in all this you are going to let me into?
Sev. I would be well with that young lady. Nay, I think I am so.
Umb. A man may often be mistaken in those points, as knowing as you are.
Sev. I grant it, madam; I have a mind to know it more explicitly, and have the most evident proofs of it; which I will not desire till I have given her sufficient testimony of a disinterested zeal and service for her.
Umb. That is, indeed, the noblest and the surest way to approach a sensible spirit, as I have heard you describe hers to be. Pray let me hear what argument you have for thinking she has a disposition towards you; for you know we naturally are too apt to believe what we wish.
Sev. A good opinion is in a man's own power to create. I took care to appear in the best manner where she was; to be always in great good humour, and show a wonderful deference to her in all my actions; which I constantly expressed by my eye only, as afraid of notice and observation. She had her eyes as attentive to mine, and she never lost the least expression that I made to her, but turned away her eyes when mine grew too familiar.—But give me leave to tell you one particular occasion wherein I plainly think she declared herself to me.
Umb. That will be worth hearing indeed; I shall be glad to hear the language of the eyes translated by the tongue. [Smiling.
Sev. You are to know, madam, that there happened one day in the north, a great Quaker's wedding at which she and I were present. They went with the greatest gravity and decorum through the whole circumstance of it. But at night she was invited, so was I, to see the bride and bridegroom put to bed. Several of her maidens attended her; several of their young men him. It is the nature of their superstition to keep their passions bridled, restrained, and formally dissembled. They have none of those flights, palpitations, gambols, and follies, which divert the mind and break it from its main object.