The Conscious Lovers

have often dared to disapprove of the decisions a tyrant custom has introduced, to the breach of all laws, both divine and human. Myrtle Mr. Bevil, Mr. Bevil, it would be a good first principle, in those who have so tender a conscience that way, to have as much abhorrence of doing injuries, as⁠— Bevil Jr. As what? Myrtle As fear of answering for ’em. Bevil Jr. As fear of answering for ’em! But that apprehension is just or blameable according to the object of that fear. I have often told you, in confidence of heart, I abhorred the daring to offend the Author of life, and rushing into his presence⁠—I say, by the very same act, to commit the crime against Him, and immediately to urge on to His tribunal. Myrtle Mr. Bevil, I must tell you, this coolness, this gravity, this show of conscience, shall never cheat me of my mistress. You have, indeed, the best excuse for life, the hopes of possessing Lucinda. But consider, sir, I have as much reason to be weary of it, if I am to lose her; and my first attempt to recover her shall be to let her see the dauntless man who is to be her guardian and protector. Bevil Jr. Sir, show me but the least glimpse of argument, that I am authorised, by my own hand, to vindicate any lawless insult of this nature, and I will show thee⁠—to chastise thee hardly deserves the name of courage⁠—slight, inconsiderate man!⁠—There is, Mr. Myrtle, no such terror in quick anger; and you shall, you know not why, be cool, as you have, you know not why, been warm. Myrtle Is the woman one loves so little an occasion of anger? You perhaps, who know not what it is to love, who have your ready, your commodious, your foreign trinket, for your loose hours; and from your fortune, your specious outward carriage, and other lucky circumstances, as easy a way to the possession of a woman of honour; you know nothing of what it is to be alarmed, to be distracted with anxiety and terror of losing more than life. Your marriage, happy man, goes on like common business, and in the interim you have your rambling captive, your Indian princess, for your soft moments of dalliance, your convenient, your ready Indiana. Bevil Jr. You have touched me beyond the patience of a man; and I’m excusable, in the guard of innocence (or from the infirmity of human nature, which can bear no more), to accept your invitation, and observe your letter⁠—Sir, I’ll attend you. Enter Tom. Tom Did you call, sir? I thought you did; I heard you speak aloud. Bevil Jr. Yes; go call a coach. Tom Sir⁠—master⁠—Mr. Myrtle⁠—friends⁠—gentlemen⁠—what d’ye mean? I am but a servant, or⁠— Bevil Jr. Call a coach. Exit Tom. —A long pause, walking sullenly by each other.⁠—Aside. Shall I (though provoked to the uttermost) recover myself at the entrance of a third person, and that my servant too, and not have respect enough to all I have ever been receiving from infancy, the obligation to the best of fathers, to an unhappy virgin too, whose life depends on mine? Shutting the door.⁠—To Myrtle. I have, thank Heaven, had time to recollect myself, and shall not, for fear of what such a rash man as you think of me, keep longer unexplained the false appearances under which your infirmity of temper makes you suffer; when perhaps too much regard to a false point of honour makes me prolong that suffering. Myrtle I am sure Mr. Bevil cannot doubt but I had rather have satisfaction from his innocence than his sword. Bevil Jr. Why, then, would you ask it first that way? Myrtle Consider, you kept your temper yourself no longer than till I spoke to the disadvantage of her you loved. Bevil Jr. True; but let me tell you, I have saved you from the most exquisite distress, even though you had succeeded in the dispute. I know you so well, that I am sure to have found this letter about a man you had killed would have been worse than death to yourself⁠—Read it.⁠—Aside. When he is thoroughly mortified, and shame has got the better of jealousy, when he has seen himself throughly, he will deserve to be assisted towards obtaining Lucinda. Myrtle With what a superiority has he turned the injury on me, as the aggressor? I begin to fear I have been too far transported⁠—A treaty in our family! is not that saying too much? I shall relapse.⁠—But I find (on the postscript) something like jealousy. With what face can I see my benefactor, my advocate, whom I have treated like a betrayer? Aside.⁠—Oh! Bevil, with what words shall I⁠— Bevil Jr. There needs none; to convince is much more than to conquer. Myrtle But can you⁠— Bevil Jr. You have o’erpaid the inquietude you gave me, in the change I see in you towards me. Alas! what machines are we! thy face is altered to that of another man; to that of my companion, my friend. Myrtle That I could be such a precipitant wretch! Bevil Jr. Pray, no more. Myrtle Let me reflect how many friends have died, by the hands of friends, for want of temper; and you must give me leave to say again, and again, how much I am beholden to that superior spirit you have subdued me with. What had become of one of us, or perhaps both, had you been as weak as I was, and as incapable of reason? Bevil Jr. I congratulate to us both the escape from ourselves, and hope the memory of it will make us dearer friends than ever. Myrtle Dear Bevil, your friendly conduct has convinced me that there is nothing manly but what is conducted by reason, and agreeable to the practice of virtue and justice. And yet how many have been sacrificed to that idol, the unreasonable opinion of men! Nay, they are so ridiculous in it, that they often use their swords against