scorn her looks betray!
O Gaming! cursed vice! parent of all!
How callous grow the hearts of all thy votaries!
And how hast thou this once soft bosom chang'd!
Nor is her form less alter'd than her mind.
[Turning to her] Perverse and obstinate! as adders deaf!

Mrs. ANDREWS. Your words are not unheard.

ANDREWS. It matters not;
Without due heed, 'twere speaking to the winds.
Have you yet thought, how you could bear the change,
The bitter change from affluence to poverty,
Which ev'ry want will bring to your remembrance?
We both must in one ruin be involv'd.

Mrs. ANDREWS. I know no life I lead that is not suited
To what I am entitled by my birth:
An honour, sir, of which you seem insensible.

ANDREWS. True honour only lies in virtuous deeds.
But had you been the daughter of a prince,
'Twere fit you suitably demean'd yourself,
To that condition you had freely chosen.

Mrs. ANDREWS. By gloomy minds, and years by ailments sour'd,
Remembring not past seasons in themselves,
Ev'n pleasures innocent are deem'd offence.

ANDREWS. No--no; it lies not in their decent use;
'Tis the extreme that constitutes the fault,
By which, ev'n Virtue's sacred self might err;
But they who break a single law, would others,
If lured alike; so violate the whole.

Mrs. ANDREWS. Ha! is it come to this? arraign my virtue?

ANDREWS. This quick impatience is self-accusation.
I have not even hinted at it yet.

Mrs. ANDREWS. Whilst I am conscious of my own heart's innocence,
I scorn the censure of a slanderous world;
It cannot injure me.

ANDREWS. Soft! have a care.
No virtue with that thought is safe a moment.
O! 'tis a jewel of such brilliant lustre,
And so resistless wins the admiration,
That even vice, in its appearance mansk'd,
Pays homage at its shrine.

Mrs. ANDREWS. What is't I hear?
I see th' ill-natur'd purpose of your summons.
But who are they, sir, who have dar'd traduce me?
Some, it is like, of your low-rank'd associates?

ANDREWS. This war of words is wandering from the purpose.
Now, mark me well--the man who dares insult
A woman's modesty, must have descry'd
Somewhat in her behaviour that would warrant
Such outrage of abuse.--Is this your hand? [Shewing her the letter.]