第 六 章 · LADY TOUCHWOOD _and_ MASKWELL.

LADY TOUCH. I'll hear no more. You are false and ungrateful; come, I

know you false.

MASK. I have been frail, I confess, madam, for your ladyship's service.

LADY TOUCH. That I should trust a man whom I had known betray his

friend!

MASK. What friend have I betrayed? or to whom?

LADY TOUCH. Your fond friend Mellefont, and to me; can you deny it?

MASK. I do not.

LADY TOUCH. Have you not wronged my lord, who has been a father to you

in your wants, and given you being? Have you not wronged him in the

highest manner, in his bed?

MASK. With your ladyship's help, and for your service, as I told you

before. I can't deny that neither. Anything more, madam?

LADY TOUCH. More! Audacious villain! Oh, what's more, is most my

shame. Have you not dishonoured me?

MASK. No, that I deny; for I never told in all my life: so that

accusation's answered; on to the next.

LADY TOUCH. Death, do you dally with my passion? Insolent devil! But

have a care,--provoke me not; for, by the eternal fire, you shall not

'scape my vengeance. Calm villain! How unconcerned he stands,

confessing treachery and ingratitude! Is there a vice more black? Oh, I

have excuses thousands for my faults; fire in my temper, passions in my

soul, apt to ev'ry provocation, oppressed at once with love, and with

despair. But a sedate, a thinking villain, whose black blood runs

temperately bad, what excuse can clear?

MASK. Will you be in temper, madam? I would not talk not to be heard. I

have been [_she walks about disordered_] a very great rogue for your

sake, and you reproach me with it; I am ready to be a rogue still, to do

you service; and you are flinging conscience and honour in my face, to

rebate my inclinations. How am I to behave myself? You know I am your

creature, my life and fortune in your power; to disoblige you brings me

certain ruin. Allow it I would betray you, I would not be a traitor to

myself: I don't pretend to honesty, because you know I am a rascal; but I

would convince you from the necessity of my being firm to you.

LADY TOUCH. Necessity, impudence! Can no gratitude incline you, no

obligations touch you? Have not my fortune and my person been subjected

to your pleasure? Were you not in the nature of a servant, and have not

I in effect made you lord of all, of me, and of my lord? Where is that

humble love, the languishing, that adoration, which once was paid me, and

everlastingly engaged?

MASK. Fixt, rooted in my heart, whence nothing can remove 'em, yet you--

LADY TOUCH. Yet, what yet?

MASK. Nay, misconceive me not, madam, when I say I have had a gen'rous

and a faithful passion, which you had never favoured, but through revenge

and policy.

LADY TOUCH. Ha!

MASK. Look you, madam, we are alone,--pray contain yourself and hear me.

You know you loved your nephew when I first sighed for you; I quickly

found it: an argument that I loved, for with that art you veiled your

passion 'twas imperceptible to all but jealous eyes. This discovery made

me bold; I confess it; for by it I thought you in my power. Your

nephew's scorn of you added to my hopes; I watched the occasion, and took

you, just repulsed by him, warm at once with love and indignation; your

disposition, my arguments, and happy opportunity accomplished my design;

I pressed the yielding minute, and was blest. How I have loved you

since, words have not shown, then how should words express?

LADY TOUCH. Well, mollifying devil! And have I not met your love with

forward fire?

MASK. Your zeal, I grant, was ardent, but misplaced; there was revenge

in view; that woman's idol had defiled the temple of the god, and love

was made a mock-worship. A son and heir would have edged young Mellefont

upon the brink of ruin, and left him none but you to catch at for

prevention.

LADY TOUCH. Again provoke me! Do you wind me like a larum, only to

rouse my own stilled soul for your diversion? Confusion!

MASK. Nay, madam, I'm gone, if you relapse. What needs this? I say

nothing but what you yourself, in open hours of love, have told me. Why

should you deny it? Nay, how can you? Is not all this present heat

owing to the same fire? Do you not love him still? How have I this day

offended you, but in not breaking off his match with Cynthia? which, ere

to-morrow, shall be done, had you but patience.

LADY TOUCH. How, what said you, Maskwell? Another caprice to unwind my

temper?

MASK. By heav'n, no; I am your slave, the slave of all your pleasures;

and will not rest till I have given you peace, would you suffer me.

LADY TOUCH. O Maskwell! in vain I do disguise me from thee, thou know'st

me, knowest the very inmost windings and recesses of my soul. O

Mellefont! I burn; married to morrow! Despair strikes me. Yet my soul

knows I hate him too: let him but once be mine, and next immediate ruin

seize him.

MASK. Compose yourself, you shall possess and ruin him too,--will that

please you?

LADY TOUCH. How, how? Thou dear, thou precious villain, how?

MASK. You have already been tampering with my Lady Plyant.

LADY TOUCH. I have: she is ready for any impression I think fit.

MASK. She must be throughly persuaded that Mellefont loves her.

LADY TOUCH. She is so credulous that way naturally, and likes him so

well, that she will believe it faster than I can persuade her. But I

don't see what you can propose from such a trifling design, for her first

conversing with Mellefont will convince her of the contrary.

MASK. I know it. I don't depend upon it. But it will prepare something

else, and gain us leisure to lay a stronger plot. If I gain a little

time, I shall not want contrivance.

One minute gives invention to destroy,

What to rebuild will a whole age employ.

SCENE 7.