Bel. Racks and torment!-Seas of milk and ships of amber, man!We are sailing to our wished for harbour, in spite of their machinations. I have settled the whole affair with Clarissa. Bev. Have you? Bel. I have, and to-morrow morning makes me possessor of her charms. Bev. My dear boy, give us your hand: and then, thou dear rogue, and then Belinda's mine! Loll-toll-loll. Bel. Well, may you be in raptures, sir; for here, here, here they both come. Enter BELINDA, and CLARISSA. Bev. Grace was in all her steps; heav'n in her eye; In every gesture dignity and love. Belin. A poetical reception truly !—But cann't your passion inspire you to a composition of your own, Mr. Beverley? Bev. It inspires me with sentiments, madam, which I cann't find words to express. Suckling, Waller, Landsdown, and all our dealers in love-verses, give but a faint image of a heart touched like mine. Belin. Poor gentleman! what a terrible taking you are in! But if the sonneteers cannot give an image of you, sir, have you had recourse to a painter, as you promised me? Bev. I have, Belinda, and here,- -here is the humble portrait of your adorer. Belin. [Takes the pillure.] Well! there is a likeness; B but after all, there is a better painter than this gentleman, whoever he be. Bev. A better!- ——now she is discontented. [ Aside.] Where, madam, can a better be found ?———If money can purchase him Belin. Oh! sir, when he draws for money he never succeeds. But when pure inclination prompts him, then his colouring is warm indeed. He gives a portrait that endears the original. Bev. Such an artist is worth the Indies! Belin. You need not go so far to seek him: he has done your business already. The limner I mean is a certain little blind god, called Love, and he has stamped such an impression of you here— Bev. Madam, your most obedient: and I can tell you, that the very same gentleman has been at work for you too. Bel. [Who had been talking apart with Clarissa.] Oh! he has had a world of business upon his hands, for we two have been agreeing what havock he has made with us. Cla. Yes, but we are but in a kind of fool's paradise here: all our schemes are but mere castle-building, which your father, Mr. Bellmont, and my dear Belinda,-yours too are most obstinately determined to destroy. Bel. Why, as you say, they are determined that I shall have the honour of Belinda's hand in the country-dance of matrimony. Belin. Without considering that I may like another partner better. Bev. And without considering that I, forlorn as I am, and my sister, there-who is as well inclined to a matrimonial game of romps as any girl in Christendom, must both of us sit down, and bind our brows with willow, in spite of our strongest inclinations to mingle in the groupe. Bel. But we have planned our own happiness, and with a little resolution we shall be successful in the end, I warrant you. Clarissa, let us take a turn this way, and leave that love-sick pair to themselves: they are only fit company for each other, and we may find wherewithal to entertain ourselves. Cla. Let us try: turn this way. Belin. Are you going to leave us, Clarissa? Cla. Only just sauntering into this side-walk: we sha'n't lose one another. Belin. You are such a tender couple! you are not tired I see of saying pretty soft things to each other. Well, well! take your own way. Cla. And if I guess right, you are glad to be left together. Belin. Who, I? Cla. Yes, you; the coy Belinda! Belin. Not I truly let us walk together. Cla. No, no, by no means: you shall be indulged. Adieu-we shall be within call. [Ex. Bel. and Cla. Bev. My sister is generously in love with Bellmont: I wish Belinda would act as openly towards me. [Aside. Belin. Well, sir!-Thoughtful! I'll call Mr. Bell mont back, if that is the case. Bev. She will call him back. Belin. Am I to entertain you, or you me ? [Aside. Belin. Madam!-ha, ha! why, you look as if you were frightened: are you afraid of being left alone with me? Bev. Oh! Belinda, you know that is the happiness of my life;-but Belin. But what, sir? Bev. Have I done any thing to offend you? Belin. To offend me? Bev. I should have been of the party last night; I own I should; it was a sufficient inducement to me that you was to be there; it was my fault, and you, I see, are piqued at it. Belin. I piqued ! Bev. I see you are; and the company perceived it last night. I have heard it all: in mere resentment you directed all your discourse to Mr. Bell mont. Belin. If I did, it was merely accidental. Bev. No, it was deliberately done: forgive my rash folly in refusing the invitation: I meant no manner of harm. Belin. Who imagines you did, sir? Bel. I beg your pardon, Belinda: you take offence oo lightly. Belin. Ha, ha! what have you taken into your head now? This uneasiness is of your own making: I have taken nothing ill, sir. Bev. You could not but take it ill; but by all that's amiable about you, I meant not to incur your displeasure: forgive that abrupt answer I sent : I should have made a handsomer apology. Belin. Apology!—you was engaged, was not you? Belin. Ha, ha! can you think I see any thing in your message to be offended at, sir? Bev. I was wrong: I beg your pardon. Where you were concerned, I own I should have expressed myself with more delicacy, than those hasty words, I am engaged, and cann't wait upon you to-night. I should have told you that my heart was with you, though necessity dragged me another way: this omission you resented. I could learn, since, what spirits you were in the whole evening, though I enjoyed nothing in your absence. I could hear the sallies of your wit, the sprightliness of your conversation, and on whom your eyes were fixed the whole night. Belin. They were fixed upon Mr. Bellmont, you think! Bev. Ay and fixed with delight upon him, negociating the business of love before the whole company. Belin. Upon my word, sir, whoever is your author, you are misinformed. You alarm me with these fan |