bred a bigot, and would die a martyr.—I'm in tolerable ſpirits, faith! [aſide.
Fanny. There is not perhaps at this moment a more diſtreſſed creature than myſelf. Affection, duty, hope, deſpair, and a thouſand different ſentiments, are ſtruggling in my boſom; and even the preſence of your Lordſhip, to whom I have flown for protection, adds to my preplexity.
L. Ogle. Does it, Madam?—Venus forbid!—My old fault; the devil's in me, I think, for perplexing young women. [aſide and ſmiling.] Take courage, Madam! dear Miſs Fanny, explain.—You have a powerful advocate in my breaſt, I aſſure you—my heart, Madam—I am attached to you by all the laws of ſympathy, and delicacy.—By my honour, I am.
Fanny. Then I will venture to unburthen my mind.—Sir John Melvil, my Lord, by the moſt miſplaced, and miſtimed declaration of affection for me, has made me the unhappieſt of women.
L. Ogle. How, Madam! Has Sir John made his addreſſes to you?
Fanny. He has, my Lord, in the ſtrongeſt terms. But I hope it is needleſs to ſay, that my duty to my father, love to my ſiſter, and regard to the whole family, as well as the great reſpect I entertain for your Lordſhip, [curtſeying] made me ſhudder at his addreſſes.
L. Ogle. Charming girl!—Proceed, my dear Miſs Fanny, proceed!
Fanny. In a moment—give me leave, my Lord!—But if what I have to diſcloſe ſhould be received with anger or diſpleafure—
L. Ogle. Impoſſible, by all the tender powers!—Speak, I beſeech you, or I ſhall divine the cauſe before you utter it.
Fanny. Then, my Lord, Sir John's addreſſes are not only ſhocking to me in themſelves, but are more
