The Conscious Lovers

charitably part with it. Bevil Jr. Now, madam, you make me vain, since the utmost pride and pleasure of my life is, that I esteem you as I ought. Indiana Aside. As he ought! still more perplexing! he neither saves nor kills my hope. Bevil Jr. But, madam, we grow grave, methinks. Let’s find some other subject⁠—Pray how did you like the opera last night? Indiana First give me leave to thank you for my tickets. Bevil Jr. Oh! your servant, madam. But pray tell me, you now, who are never partial to the fashion, I fancy must be the properest judge of a mighty dispute among the ladies, that is, whether Crispo or Griselda26 is the more agreeable entertainment. Indiana With submission now, I cannot be a proper judge of this question. Bevil Jr. How so, madam? Indiana Because I find I have a partiality for one of them. Bevil Jr. Pray which is that? Indiana I do not know; there’s something in that rural cottage of Griselda, her forlorn condition, her poverty, her solitude, her resignation, her innocent slumbers, and that lulling dolce sogno that’s sung over her; it had an effect upon me that⁠—in short I never was so well deceived, at any of them. Bevil Jr. Oh! Now then, I can account for the dispute. Griselda, it seems, is the distress of an injured innocent woman, Crispo, that only of a man in the same condition; therefore the men are mostly concerned for Crispo, and, by a natural indulgence, both sexes for Griselda. Indiana So that judgment, you think, ought to be for one, though fancy and complaisance have got ground for the other. Well! I believe you will never give me leave to dispute with you on any subject; for I own, Crispo has its charms for me too. Though in the main, all the pleasure the best opera gives us is but mere sensation. Methinks it’s pity the mind can’t have a little more share in the entertainment. The music’s certainly fine, but, in my thoughts, there’s none of your composers come up to old Shakespeare and Otway. Bevil Jr. How, madam! why if a woman of your sense were to say this in a drawing-room⁠— Enter a Servant. Servant Sir, here’s Signor Carbonelli27 says he waits your commands in the next room. Bevil Jr. Apropos! you were saying yesterday, madam, you had a mind to hear him. Will you give him leave to entertain you now? Indiana By all means; desire the gentleman to walk in. Exit Servant. Bevil Jr. I fancy you will find something in this hand that is uncommon. Indiana You are always finding ways, Mr. Bevil, to make life seem less tedious to me. Enter Music Master. When the gentleman pleases. After a Sonata is played, Bevil waits on the Master to the door, etc. Bevil Jr. You smile, madam, to see me so complaisant to one whom I pay for his visit. Now, I own, I think it is not enough barely to pay those whose talents are superior to our own (I mean such talents as would become our condition, if we had them). Methinks we ought to do something more than barely gratify them for what they do at our command, only because their fortune is below us. Indiana You say I smile. I assure you it was a smile of approbation; for, indeed, I cannot but think it the distinguishing part of a gentleman to make his superiority of fortune as easy to his inferiors as he can.⁠—Now once more to try him. Aside.⁠—I was saying just now, I believed you would never let me dispute with you, and I daresay it will always be so. However, I must have your opinion upon a subject which created a debate between my aunt and me, just before you came hither; she would needs have it that no man ever does any extraordinary kindness or service for a woman, but for his own sake. Bevil Jr. Well, madam! Indeed I can’t but be of her mind. Indiana What, though he should maintain and support her, without demanding anything of her, on her part? Bevil Jr. Why, madam, is making an expense in the service of a valuable woman (for such I must suppose her), though she should never do him any favour, nay, though she should never know who did her such service, such a mighty heroic business? Indiana Certainly! I should think he must be a man of an uncommon mould. Bevil Jr. Dear madam, why so? ’tis but, at best, a better taste in expense. To bestow upon one, whom he may think one of the ornaments of the whole creation, to be conscious, that from his superfluity, an innocent, a virtuous spirit is supported above the temptations and sorrows of life! That he sees satisfaction, health, and gladness in her countenance, while he enjoys the happiness of seeing her (as that I will suppose too, or he must be too abstracted, too insensible), I say, if he is allowed to delight in that prospect; alas, what mighty matter is there in all this? Indiana No mighty matter in so disinterested a friendship! Bevil Jr. Disinterested! I can’t think him so; your hero, madam, is no more than what every gentleman ought to be, and I believe very many are. He is only one who takes more delight in reflections than in sensations. He is more pleased with thinking than eating; that’s the utmost you can say of him. Why, madam, a greater expense than all this, men lay out upon an unnecessary stable of horses. Indiana Can you be sincere in what you say? Bevil Jr. You may depend upon it, if you know any such man, he does not love dogs inordinately. Indiana No, that he does not. Bevil Jr. Nor cards, nor dice. Indiana No. Bevil Jr. Nor bottle companions. Indiana No. Bevil Jr. Nor loose women. Indiana No, I’m sure he does not. Bevil Jr. Take my word then, if your admired hero is not liable to any of these kind of demands, there’s no such preeminence in