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LORD TOUCH. Is't for yourself? [MASKWELL _pauses_.] I'll hear of nought for anybody else.
MASK. Then witness heaven for me, this wealth and honour was not of my seeking, nor would I build my fortune on another's ruin. I had but one desire--
LORD TOUCH. Thou shalt enjoy it. If all I'm worth in wealth or interest can purchase Cynthia, she is thine. I'm sure Sir Paul's consent will follow fortune. I'll quickly show him which way that is going.
MASK. You oppress me with bounty. My grat.i.tude is weak, and shrinks beneath the weight, and cannot rise to thank you. What, enjoy my love!
Forgive the transports of a blessing so unexpected, so unhoped for, so unthought of!
LORD TOUCH. I will confirm it, and rejoice with thee.
SCENE IV.
MASKWELL _alone_.
MASK. This is prosperous indeed. Why let him find me out a villain, settled in possession of a fair estate, and full fruition of my love, I'll bear the railings of a losing gamester. But should he find me out before! 'Tis dangerous to delay. Let me think. Should my lord proceed to treat openly of my marriage with Cynthia, all must be discovered, and Mellefont can be no longer blinded. It must not be; nay, should my lady know it--ay, then were fine work indeed! Her fury would spare nothing, though she involved herself in ruin. No, it must be by stratagem. I must deceive Mellefont once more, and get my lord to consent to my private management. He comes opportunely. Now will I, in my old way, discover the whole and real truth of the matter to him, that he may not suspect one word on't.
No mask like open truth to cover lies, As to go naked is the best disguise.
SCENE V.
[_To him_] MELLEFONT.
MEL. O Maskwell, what hopes? I am confounded in a maze of thoughts, each leading into one another, and all ending in perplexity. My uncle will not see nor hear me.
MASK. No matter, sir, don't trouble your head: all's in my power.
MEL. How? For heaven's sake?
MASK. Little do you think that your aunt has kept her word. How the devil she wrought my lord into this dotage, I know not; but he's gone to Sir Paul about my marriage with Cynthia, and has appointed me his heir.
MEL. The devil he has! What's to be done?
MASK. I have it, it must be by stratagem; for it's in vain to make application to him. I think I have that in my head that cannot fail.
Where's Cynthia?
MEL. In the garden.
MASK. Let us go and consult her: my life for yours, I cheat my lord.
SCENE VI.
LORD TOUCHWOOD, LADY TOUCHWOOD.
LADY TOUCH. Maskwell your heir, and marry Cynthia!
LORD TOUCH. I cannot do too much for so much merit.
LADY TOUCH. But this is a thing of too great moment to be so suddenly resolved. Why Cynthia? Why must he be married? Is there not reward enough in raising his low fortune, but he must mix his blood with mine, and wed my niece? How know you that my brother will consent, or she?
Nay, he himself perhaps may have affections otherwhere.
LORD TOUCH. No, I am convinced he loves her.
LADY TOUCH. Maskwell love Cynthia? Impossible!
LORD TOUCH. I tell you he confessed it to me.
LADY TOUCH. Confusion! How's this? [_Aside_.]
LORD TOUCH. His humility long stifled his pa.s.sion. And his love of Mellefont would have made him still conceal it. But by encouragement, I wrung the secret from him, and know he's no way to be rewarded but in her. I'll defer my farther proceedings in it till you have considered it; but remember how we are both indebted to him.
SCENE VII.
LADY TOUCHWOOD _alone_.
LADY TOUCH. Both indebted to him! Yes, we are both indebted to him, if you knew all. Villain! Oh, I am wild with this surprise of treachery: it is impossible, it cannot be. He love Cynthia! What, have I been bawd to his designs, his property only, a baiting place? Now I see what made him false to Mellefont. Shame and distraction! I cannot bear it, oh!
what woman can bear to be a property? To be kindled to a flame, only to light him to another's arms; oh! that I were fire indeed that I might burn the vile traitor. What shall I do? How shall I think? I cannot think. All my designs are lost, my love unsated, my revenge unfinished, and fresh cause of fury from unthought of plagues.
SCENE VIII.
[_To her_] SIR PAUL.
SIR PAUL. Madam, sister, my lady sister, did you see my lady my wife?
LADY TOUCH. Oh! Torture!
SIR PAUL. Gads-bud, I can't find her high nor low; where can she be, think you?
LADY TOUCH. Where she's serving you, as all your s.e.x ought to be served, making you a beast. Don't you know you're a fool, brother?
SIR PAUL. A fool; he, he, he, you're merry. No, no, not I, I know no such matter.
LADY TOUCH. Why, then, you don't know half your happiness.
SIR PAUL. That's a jest with all my heart, faith and troth. But harkee, my lord told me something of a revolution of things; I don't know what to make on't. Gads-bud, I must consult my wife:--he talks of disinheriting his nephew, and I don't know what. Look you, sister, I must know what my girl has to trust to, or not a syllable of a wedding, gads-bud!--to show you that I am not a fool.