Har. Well, well, I love her the better for it. I can't bear your insipid passionless women: I would as soon live upon sweet curd all my life, as attach myself to one of them.
Roy. She is very extravagant.
Har. Heaven bless the good folks! would they have a man to give up the woman of his heart, because she likes a bit of lace upon her petticoat.
Roy. Well but she is
Col. Devil take you, Royston! can't you hold your tongue about her? you see he can't bear it.
Roy. (Making signs to the Colonel.) Let me alone; I know when to speak, and when to hold my tongue, as well as another. Indeed, Harwood, I am your friend; and though the lady is my relation, I must say, I wish you had made a better choice. I have discovered something in regard to her this morning, which shews her to be a very improper one. I cannot say, however, that I have discovered any thing which surprised me, I know her too well.
Har. (Vehemently.) You are imposed upon by some damn'd falsehood.
Roy. But I have proof of what I say; the lady who is injured by her, gave me this letter to shew to Mr. Withrington. (Taking out the letter.)
Har. It is some fiend who wants to undermine her, and has forged that scrawl to serve her spiteful purpose.
Roys. I would be glad it were so, my dear
