Scarborough and the Critic | Page 6

of them are, indeed, but empty; yet there are delights of which a private life is destitute, which may divert an honest man, and be a harmless entertainment to a?virtuous woman: good music is one; and truly (with some small allowance) the plays, I think, may be esteemed another.?Aman. Plays, I must confess, have some small charms. What do you think of that you saw last night??Love. To say truth, I did not mind it much--my attention?was for some time taken off to admire the workmanship of Nature in the face of a young lady who sat at some distance from me, she was so exquisitely handsome.?Aman. So exquisitely handsome!?Love. Why do you repeat my words, my dear??Aman. Because you seemed to speak them with such pleasure, I thought I might oblige you with their echo.?Love. Then you are alarmed, Amanda??Aman. It is my duty to be so when you are in danger.?Love. You are too quick in apprehending for me. I viewed?her with a world of admiration, but not one glance of love. Aman. Take heed of trusting to such nice distinctions. But were your eyes the only things that were inquisitive? Had I been in your place, my tongue, I fancy, had been curious too. I should have asked her where she lived--yet still without design--who was she, pray??Love. Indeed I cannot tell.?Aman. You will not tell.?Love. Upon my honour, then, I did not ask.?Aman. Nor do you know what company was with her??Love. I do not. But why are you so earnest??Aman. I thought I had cause.?Love. But you thought wrong, Amanda; for turn the case,?and let it be your story: should you come home and tell me you had seen a handsome man, should I grow jealous because you had eyes??Aman. But should I tell you he was exquisitely so, and?that I had gazed on him with admiration, should you not think 'twere possible I might go one step further, and inquire his name??Love. [Aside.] She has reason on her side; I have?talked too much; but I must turn off another way.--?[Aloud.] Will you then make no difference, Amanda, between the language of our sex and yours? There is a modesty restrains your tongues, which makes you speak by halves when you commend; but roving flattery gives a loose to ours, which makes us still speak double what we think.?Enter SERVANT.?Ser. Madam, there is a lady at the door in a chair desires to know whether your ladyship sees company; her name is?Berinthia.?Aman. Oh dear! 'tis a relation I have not seen these five years; pray her to walk in.--[Exit SERVANT.] Here's?another beauty for you; she was, when I saw her last, reckoned extremely handsome.?Love. Don't be jealous now; for I shall gaze upon her too. Enter BERINTHIA.?Ha! by heavens, the very woman! [Aside.]?Ber. [Salutes AMANDA.] Dear Amanda, I did not?expect to meet you in Scarborough.?Aman. Sweet cousin, I'm overjoyed to see you.--Mr.?Loveless, here's a relation and a friend of mine, I desire you'll be better acquainted with.?Love. [Salutes BERINTHIA.] If my wife never desires?a harder thing, madam, her request will be easily granted.?Re-enter SERVANT.?Ser. Sir, my Lord Foppington presents his humble service?to you, and desires to know how you do. He's at the next door; and, if it be not inconvenient to you, he'll come and wait upon you.?Love. Give my compliments to his lordship, and I shall be glad to see him.--[Exit SERVANT.] If you are not?acquainted with his lordship, madam, you will be entertained with his character.?Aman. Now it moves my pity more than my mirth to see a man whom nature has made no fool be so very industrious to pass for an ass.?Love. No, there you are wrong, Amanda; you should never?bestow your pity upon those who take pains for your contempt: pity those whom nature abuses, never those who abuse nature. Enter LORD FOPPINGTON.?Lord Fop. Dear Loveless, I am your most humble servant.?Love. My lord, I'm yours.?Lord Fop. Madam, your ladyship's very obedient slave.?Love. My lord, this lady is a relation of my wife's.?Lord Fop. [Salutes BERINTHIA.] The beautifullest?race of people upon earth, rat me! Dear Loveless, I am overjoyed that you think of continuing here: I am, stap my vitals!--?[To AMANDA.] For Gad's sake, madam, how has your ladyship been able to subsist thus long, under the fatigue of a country life??Aman. My life has been very far from that, my lord; it has been a very quiet one.?Lord Fop. Why, that's the fatigue I speak of, madam; for?'tis impossible to be quiet without thinking: now thinking is to me the greatest fatigue in the world.?Aman. Does not your lordship love reading, then??Lord Fop. Oh, passionately, madam; but I never think of?what I read. For example, madam, my life is a perpetual stream of pleasure, that glides through with