MRS. FAINALL, FOIBLE.
MRS. FAIN. O Foible, I have been in a fright, lest I should come too
late. That devil, Marwood, saw you in the park with Mirabell, and I’m
afraid will discover it to my lady.
FOIB. Discover what, madam?
MRS. FAIN. Nay, nay, put not on that strange face. I am privy to the
whole design, and know that Waitwell, to whom thou wert this morning
married, is to personate Mirabell’s uncle, and, as such winning my lady,
to involve her in those difficulties from which Mirabell only must
release her, by his making his conditions to have my cousin and her
fortune left to her own disposal.
FOIB. O dear madam, I beg your pardon. It was not my confidence in your
ladyship that was deficient; but I thought the former good correspondence
between your ladyship and Mr. Mirabell might have hindered his
communicating this secret.
MRS. FAIN. Dear Foible, forget that.
FOIB. O dear madam, Mr. Mirabell is such a sweet winning gentleman. But
your ladyship is the pattern of generosity. Sweet lady, to be so good!
Mr. Mirabell cannot choose but be grateful. I find your ladyship has his
heart still. Now, madam, I can safely tell your ladyship our success:
Mrs. Marwood had told my lady, but I warrant I managed myself. I turned
it all for the better. I told my lady that Mr. Mirabell railed at her.
I laid horrid things to his charge, I’ll vow; and my lady is so incensed
that she’ll be contracted to Sir Rowland to-night, she says; I warrant I
worked her up that he may have her for asking for, as they say of a Welsh
maidenhead.
MRS. FAIN. O rare Foible!
FOIB. Madam, I beg your ladyship to acquaint Mr. Mirabell of his
success. I would be seen as little as possible to speak to him—besides,
I believe Madam Marwood watches me. She has a month’s mind; but I know
Mr. Mirabell can’t abide her. [_Calls_.] John, remove my lady’s toilet.
Madam, your servant. My lady is so impatient, I fear she’ll come for me,
if I stay.
MRS. FAIN. I’ll go with you up the back stairs, lest I should meet her.