MISS. O Lord, she’s coming, and she’ll tell my father; what shall I do now? TATT. Pox take her; if she had stayed two minutes longer, I should have wished for her coming. MISS. O dear, what shall I say? Tell me, Mr. Tattle, tell me a lie. TATT. There’s no occasion for a lie; I could never tell a lie to no purpose. But since we have done nothing, we must say nothing, I think. I hear her,—I’ll leave you together, and come off as you can. [_Thrusts her in_, _and shuts the door_.] SCENE III. TATTLE, VALENTINE, SCANDAL, ANGELICA. ANG. You can’t accuse me of inconstancy; I never told you that I loved you. VAL. But I can accuse you of uncertainty, for not telling me whether you did or not. ANG. You mistake indifference for uncertainty; I never had concern enough to ask myself the question. SCAN. Nor good-nature enough to answer him that did ask you; I’ll say that for you, madam. ANG. What, are you setting up for good-nature? SCAN. Only for the affectation of it, as the women do for ill-nature. ANG. Persuade your friend that it is all affectation. SCAN. I shall receive no benefit from the opinion; for I know no effectual difference between continued affectation and reality. TATT. [_coming up_]. Scandal, are you in private discourse? Anything of secrecy? [_Aside to_ SCANDAL.] SCAN. Yes, but I dare trust you; we were talking of Angelica’s love to Valentine. You won’t speak of it. TATT. No, no, not a syllable. I know that’s a secret, for it’s whispered everywhere. SCAN. Ha, ha, ha! ANG. What is, Mr. Tattle? I heard you say something was whispered everywhere. SCAN. Your love of Valentine. ANG. How! TATT. No, madam, his love for your ladyship. Gad take me, I beg your pardon,—for I never heard a word of your ladyship’s passion till this instant. ANG. My passion! And who told you of my passion, pray sir? SCAN. Why, is the devil in you? Did not I tell it you for a secret? TATT. Gadso; but I thought she might have been trusted with her own affairs. SCAN. Is that your discretion? Trust a woman with herself? TATT. You say true, I beg your pardon. I’ll bring all off. It was impossible, madam, for me to imagine that a person of your ladyship’s wit and gallantry could have so long received the passionate addresses of the accomplished Valentine, and yet remain insensible; therefore you will pardon me, if, from a just weight of his merit, with your ladyship’s good judgment, I formed the balance of a reciprocal affection. VAL. O the devil, what damned costive poet has given thee this lesson of fustian to get by rote? ANG. I dare swear you wrong him, it is his own. And Mr. Tattle only judges of the success of others, from the effects of his own merit. For certainly Mr. Tattle was never denied anything in his life. TATT. O Lord! Yes, indeed, madam, several times. ANG. I swear I don’t think ’tis possible.