Fanny. You deceived yourſelf. If I forbore to exert a proper ſpirit, nay if I did not even expreſs the quickeſt reſentment of your behaviour, it was only in conſideration of that reſpect I wiſh to pay you, in honour to my ſiſter: and be aſſured Sir, woman as I am, that my vanity could reap no pleaſure from a triumph, that muſt reſult from the blackeſt treachery to her.
Sir John. One word, and I have done. [stopping her.]—Your impatience and anxiety, and the urgency of the occaſion, oblige me to be brief and explicit with you.—I appeal therefore from your delicacy to your juſtice.—Your ſiſter, I verily believe, neither entertains any real affection for me, or tenderneſs for you.—Your father, I am inclined to think, is not much concerned by means of which of his daughters the families are united.—Now as they cannot, ſhall not be connected, otherwiſe than by my union with you, why will you, from a falſe delicacy, oppoſe a meaſure ſo conducive to my happineſs, and, I hope, your own?—I love you, moſt paſſionately and ſincerely love you—and hope to propoſe terms agreeable to Mr. Sterling.—If then you don't abſolutely loath, abhor, and ſcorn me if there is no other happier man
Fanny. Hear me, Sir! hear my final determination.—Were my father and ſiſter as inſenſible as you are pleaſed to repreſent them;—were my heart for ever to remain diſengaged to any other—I could not liſten to your propoſals.—What! You on the very eve of a marriage with my ſiſter; I living under the ſame roof with her, bound not only by the laws of friendſhip and hoſpitality, but even the ties of blood, to contribute to her happineſs,—and not to conſpire againſt her peace—the peace of a whole family—and that my own too!—Away! away, Sir John!—At ſuch a time, and in ſuch circumſtances, your addreſſes only inſpire me with horror.—Nay, you muſt detain me no longer.—I will go.
