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⟨man,⟩ that confused air, that sudden start, proclaim thee false!"
"Tell me," said Trueman, recovering himself, "the grounds on which you have raised this unkind suspicion of my honour."
"This will inform you, sir; a friend of Miss Benley advises her to be on her guard. Trueman is not what he seems; but, beneath the appearance of rustic honesty, harbours designs destructive of her peace and honour.
"Now, sir, what can you plead to this charge?"
"Miss Benley, that I love you, I think, is still beyond dispute. That you approved my passion, ⟨have⟩ owned a mutual flame, is equally on the side of truth. To the charge here preferred against me, that I am not what I seem, I plead guilty; but to the rest, with all my soul, I pronounce it a base falsehood."
"Less warmth, sir, will better serve the cause of truth."
"Less warmth, madam, would confirm me the guilty wretch your hard thoughts, and this vile ⟨scroll⟩, have made me. But, tell me, if I can repel, by truth indubitable, this unjust arraignment of any honour, what reward I may expect?"
"Oh! clear but thyself of these gross suspicious; appear but the man my fond wishes have formed thee, and I would reject the crowned monarch's hand to share thy honest love!"
"Then fear not, and know that I am the happy Belfont."
"Lord Belfont!"—"Yes, the rich, the happy Belfont, lives the vassal of your power. But tell me, from what envious hand didst thou receive this vile defamer of my truth?"
