_Col._ Do so, and give my service to my lady, and tell her, if she'll give me leave, I'll do myself the honour to-morrow to come and tender my services to her, as long as she stays in town. If it ben't too long. [_Aside._ Mrs. _Moth._ I'll tell her what a devil you are, and advise her to take care of you. [_Exit._ _Col._ Do, that will make her every time she sees me think what I'd be at. Dear _Martilla_, good night; I know you won't be my hindrance; I'll do you as good a turn some time or other. Well, I'm so glad, you don't love me too much. _Mart._ When that's our fate, as too, too oft we prove, How bitterly we pay the past delights of love. +ACT+ II. +SCENE+ I. _Lord_ Loverule's _House_. _Enter Lord ~Loverule~, and Lady ~Arabella~. He following her._ Lady _Ara._ Well, look you, my Lord, I can bear it no longer; nothing still but about my faults, my faults! an agreeable subject truly! Lord _Love._ But, Madam, if you won't hear of your faults, how is it likely you shou'd ever mend 'em? Lady _Ara._ Why I don't intend to mend 'em. I can't mend 'em, I have told you so an hundred times; you know I have try'd to do it, over and over, and it hurts me so, I can't bear it. Why, don't you know, my Lord, that whenever (just to please you only) I have gone about to wean myself from a fault (one of my faults I mean that I love dearly) han't it put me so out of humour, you cou'd scarce endure the house with me? Lord _Love._ Look you, my dear, it is very true, that in weaning one's self from---- Lady _Ara._ Weaning! why ay, don't you see, that even in weaning poor children from the nurse, it's almost the death of 'em? and don't you see your true religious people when they go about to wean themselves, and have solemn days of fasting and praying, on purpose to help them, does it not so disorder them, there's no coming near 'em? are they not as cross as the devil? and then they don't do the business neither; for next day their faults are just where they were the day before. Lord _Love._ But, Madam, can you think it a reasonable thing to be abroad till two o'clock in the morning, when you know I go to bed at eleven? Lady _Ara._ And can you think it a wise thing (to talk your own way now) to go to bed at eleven, when you know I am likely to disturb you by coming there at three? Lord _Love._ Well, the manner of womens living of late is insupportable, and some way or other----