The Conscious Lovers

would devour you! Such is the world⁠—Aside. and such (since the behaviour of one man to myself) have I believed all the rest of the sex. Indiana I will not doubt the truth of Bevil, I will not doubt it. He has not spoke of it by an organ that is given to lying. His eyes are all that have ever told me that he was mine. I know his virtue, I know his filial piety, and ought to trust his management with a father to whom he has uncommon obligations. What have I to be concerned for? my lesson is very short. If he takes me forever, my purpose of life is only to please him. If he leaves me (which Heaven avert) I know he’ll do it nobly, and I shall have nothing to do but to learn to die, after worse than death has happened to me. Isabella Ay, do, persist in your credulity! flatter yourself that a man of his figure and fortune will make himself the jest of the town, and marry a handsome beggar for love. Indiana The town! I must tell you, madam, the fools that laugh at Mr. Bevil will but make themselves more ridiculous; his actions are the result of thinking, and he has sense enough to make even virtue fashionable. Isabella O’ my conscience he has turned her head.⁠—Come, come, if he were the honest fool you take him for, why has he kept you here these three weeks, without sending you to Bristol in search of your father, your family, and your relations? Indiana I am convinced he still designs it, and that nothing keeps him here, but the necessity of coming to a breach with his father in regard to the match he has proposed him. Beside, has he not writ to Bristol? and has not he advice that my father has not been heard of there almost these twenty years? Isabella All sham, mere evasion; he is afraid, if he should carry you thither, your honest relations may take you out of his hands, and so blow up all his wicked hopes at once. Indiana Wicked hopes! did I ever give him any such? Isabella Has he ever given you any honest ones? Can you say, in your conscience, he has ever once offered to marry you? Indiana No! but by his behaviour I am convinced he will offer it, the moment ’tis in his power, or consistent with his honour, to make such a promise good to me. Isabella His honour! Indiana I will rely upon it; therefore desire you will not make my life uneasy, by these ungrateful jealousies of one, to whom I am, and wish to be, obliged. For from his integrity alone, I have resolved to hope for happiness. Isabella Nay, I have done my duty; if you won’t see, at your peril be it! Indiana Let it be⁠—This is his hour of visiting me. Isabella Oh! to be sure, keep up your form; don’t see him in a bedchamber⁠—Apart. This is pure prudence, when she is liable, wherever he meets her, to be conveyed where’er he pleases. Indiana All the rest of my life is but waiting till he comes. I live only when I’m with him. Exit. Isabella Well, go thy ways, thou wilful innocent!⁠—Aside. I once had almost as much love for a man, who poorly left me to marry an estate; and I am now, against my will, what they call an old maid⁠—but I will not let the peevishness of that condition grow upon me, only keep up the suspicion of it, to prevent this creature’s being any other than a virgin, except upon proper terms. Exit. Re-enter Indiana, speaking to a Servant. Indiana Desire Mr. Bevil to walk in⁠—Design! impossible! A base designing mind could never think of what he hourly puts in practice. And yet, since the late rumour of his marriage, he seems more reserved than formerly⁠—he sends in too, before he sees me, to know if I am at leisure⁠—such new respects may cover coldness in the heart; it certainly makes me thoughtful⁠—I’ll know the worst at once; I’ll lay such fair occasions in his way, that it shall be impossible to avoid an explanation, for these doubts are insupportable!⁠—But see, he comes, and clears them all. Enter Bevil. Bevil Jr. Madam, your most obedient⁠—I am afraid I broke in upon your rest last night; ’twas very late before we parted, but ’twas your own fault. I never saw you in such agreeable humour. Indiana I am extremely glad we were both pleased; for I thought I never saw you better company. Bevil Jr. Me, madam! you rally; I said very little. Indiana But I am afraid you heard me say a great deal; and, when a woman is in the talking vein, the most agreeable thing a man can do, you know, is to have patience to hear her. Bevil Jr. Then it’s pity, madam, you should ever be silent, that we might be always agreeable to one another. Indiana If I had your talent or power, to make my actions speak for me, I might indeed be silent, and you pretend to something more than the agreeable. Bevil Jr. If I might be vain of anything in my power, madam, ’tis that my understanding, from all your sex, has marked you out as the most deserving object of my esteem. Indiana Should I think I deserve this, ’twere enough to make my vanity forfeit the very esteem you offer me. Bevil Jr. How so, madam? Indiana Because esteem is the result of reason, and to deserve it from good sense, the height of human glory. Nay, I had rather a man of honour should pay me that, than all the homage of a sincere and humble love. Bevil Jr. You certainly distinguish right, madam; love often kindles from external merit only. Indiana But esteem rises from a higher source, the merit of the soul. Bevil Jr. True⁠—And great souls only can deserve it. Bowing respectfully. Indiana Now I think they are greater still, that can so