ive up the rights
Of mine own brain and heart? I thank my stars
I never came to that extremity.

[Goes out.]

_Lydia_. She never loved, indeed! She knows not love,
Except what's told of it! She never felt it.
To stem a torrent, easy, looking at it;
But once you venture in, you nothing know
Except the speed with which you're borne away,
Howe'er you strive to check it. She suspects not
Her maid, not she, brings Master Waller hither.
Nor dare I undeceive her. Well might she say
Her young and handsome husband! Yet his face
And person are the least of him, and vanish
When shines his soul out through his open eye!
He all but says he loves me! His respect
Has vanquished me! He looks the will to speak
His passion, and the fear that ties his tongue--
The fear? He loves not honestly, and yet
I'll swear he loves--I'll swear he honours me!
It is but my condition is a bar,
Denies him give me all. But knew he me
As I do know myself! Whate'er his purpose,
When next we speak, he shall declare it to me.

[Goes out.]

SCENE III.--Sir William Fondlove's.

[Enter CONSTANCE, dressed for riding, and PHOEBE.]

_Con_. Well, Phoebe, would you know me? Are those locks
That cluster on my forehead and my cheek,
Sufficient mask? Show I what I would seem,
A lady for the chase? My darkened brows
And heightened colour, foreign to my face,
Do they my face pass off for stranger too?
What think you?

_Phoebe_. That he'll ne'er discover you.

_Con_. Then send him to me. Say a lady wants
To speak with him, unless indeed it be
A man in lady's gear; I look so bold
And speak so gruff. Away! [PHOEBE goes out.] That I am glad
He stays in town, I own, but if I am,
'Tis only for the tricks I'll play upon him,
And now begin, persuading him his fame
Hath made me fancy him, and brought me hither
On visit to his worship. Soft, his foot!
_This_ he? Why, what has metamorphosed him.
And changed my sportsman to fine gentleman?
Well he becomes his clothes! But, check my wonder,
Lest I forget myself. Why, what an air
The fellow hath. A man to set a cap at!

[Enter WILDRAKE.]

_Wild_. Kind lady, I attend your fair commands.

_Con_. My veiled face denies me justice, sir,
Else would you see a maiden's blushing cheek
Do penance for her forwardness; too late,
I own, repented of. Yet if 'tis true,
By our own hearts of others we may judge,
Mine in no peril lies that's shown to you,
Whose heart, I'm sure, is noble.