_Young Fash._ No, my Conscience shan't starve me, neither. But thus far I'll hearken to it; before I execute this Project, I'll try my Brother to the bottom, I'll speak to him with the Temper of a Philosopher; my Reasons (tho' they press him home) shall yet be cloth'd with so much Modesty, not one of all the Truths they urge, shall be so naked to offend his Sight: if he has yet so much Humanity about him, as to assist me (tho' with a moderate Aid) I'll drop my Project at his Feet, and shew him how I can do for him, much more than what I ask he'd do for me. This one conclusive Trial of him I resolve to make-- _Succeed or no, still Victory's my Lot;_ } _If I subdue his Heart, 'tis well; if not,_ } _I shall subdue my Conscience to my Plot._ } [~Exeunt.~ [Illustration] +ACT+ II. +SCENE+ I. _Enter ~Loveless~ and ~Amanda~._ _Lov._ How do you like these Lodgings, my Dear? For my part, I am so well pleased with them, I shall hardly remove whilst we stay in Town, if you are satisfy'd. _Aman._ I am satisfy'd with every thing that pleases you; else I had not come to Town at all. _Lov._ O! a little of the Noise and Bustle of the World sweetens the Pleasures of Retreat: We shall find the Charms of our Retirement doubled, when we return to it. _Aman._ That pleasing Prospect will be my chiefest Entertainment, whilst, much against my Will, I am obliged to stand surrounded with these empty Pleasures, which 'tis so much the Fashion to be fond of. _Lov._ I own most of them are indeed but empty; nay, so empty, that one would wonder by what Magick Power they act, when they induce us to be vicious for their sakes. Yet some there are we may speak kindlier of: There are Delights, of which a private Life is destitute, which may divert an honest Man, and be a harmless Entertainment to a virtuous Woman. The Conversation of the Town is one; and truly (with some small Allowances) the Plays, I think, may be esteem'd another. _Aman._ The Plays, I must confess, have some small Charms; and wou'd have more, wou'd they restrain that loose obscene Encouragement to Vice, which shocks, if not the Virtue of some Women, at least the Modesty of all. _Lov._ But till that Reformation can be made, I would not leave the wholesome Corn for some intruding Tares that grow among it. Doubtless the Moral of a well-wrought Scene is of prevailing Force----Last Night there happen'd one that mov'd me strangely. _Aman._ Pray, what was that? _Lov._ Why 'twas about--but 'tis not worth repeating. _Aman._ Yes, pray let me know it. _Lov._ No, I think 'tis as well let alone. _Aman._ Nay, now you make me have a mind to know. _Lov._ 'Twas a foolish thing: You'd perhaps grow jealous shou'd I tell it you, tho' without a Cause, Heaven knows.