LOVELESS. Will you promise to return, if I remain here? BERINTHIA. Never trust myself in a room again with you while I live. LOVELESS. But I have something particular to communicate to you. BERINTHIA. Well, well, before we go to Sir Tunbelly’s, I’ll walk upon the lawn. If you are fond of a moonlight evening, you’ll find me there. LOVELESS. I’faith, they’re coming here now! I take you at your word. [_Exit into the closet_.] BERINTHIA. ’Tis Amanda, as I live! I hope she has not heard his voice; though I mean she should have her share of jealousy in her turn. _Enter_ AMANDA. AMANDA. Berinthia, why did you leave me? BERINTHIA. I thought I only spoiled your party. AMANDA. Since you have been gone, Townly has attempted to renew his importunities. I must break with him, for I cannot venture to acquaint Mr. Loveless with his conduct. BERINTHIA. Oh, no! Mr. Loveless mustn’t know of it by any means. AMANDA. Oh, not for the world—I wish, Berinthia, you would undertake to speak to Townly on the subject. BERINTHIA. Upon my word, it would be a very pleasant subject for me to talk upon! But, come, let us go back; and you may depend on’t I’ll not leave you together again, if I can help it. [_Exeunt_.] _Re-enter_ LOVELESS. LOVELESS. So—so! a pretty piece of business I have overheard! Townly makes love to my wife, and I am not to know it for all the world. I must inquire into this—and, by Heaven, if I find that Amanda has, in the smallest degree—yet what have I been at here!—Oh, ’sdeath! that’s no rule. That wife alone unsullied credit wins, Whose virtues can atone her husband’s sins, Thus, while the man has other nymphs in view, It suits the woman to be doubly true. [_Exit_.] ACT V. SCENE I.—_The Garden behind_ LOVELESS’s _Lodgings_. _Enter_ LOVELESS. LOVELESS. Now, does she mean to make a fool of me, or not! I shan’t wait much longer, for my wife will soon be inquiring for me to set out on our supping party. Suspense is at all times the devil, but of all modes of suspense, the watching for a loitering mistress is the worst.—But let me accuse her no longer; she approaches with one smile to o’erpay the anxieties of a year. _Enter_ BERINTHIA. O Berinthia, what a world of kindness are you in my debt! had you stayed five minutes longer— BERINTHIA. You would have gone, I suppose? LOVELESS. Egad, she’s right enough. [_Aside._] BERINTHIA. And I assure you ’twas ten to one that I came at all. In short, I begin to think you are too dangerous a being to trifle with; and as I shall probably only make a fool of you at last, I believe we had better let matters rest as they are. LOVELESS. You cannot mean it, sure? BERINTHIA. What more would you have me give to a married man? LOVELESS. How doubly cruel to remind me of my misfortunes! BERINTHIA. A misfortune to be married to so charming a woman as Amanda?