_Isab._ This it is to Bevil and all mankind. Trust not those who will think the worse of you for your confidence in them; serpents who lie in wait for doves. Won't you be on your guard against those who would betray you? Won't you doubt those who would contemn you for believing 'em? Take it from me, fair and natural dealing is to invite injuries; 'tis bleating to escape wolves who would devour you! Such is the world--[_Aside._] and such (since the behaviour of one man to myself) have I believed all the rest of the sex. _Ind._ I will not doubt the truth of Bevil, I will not doubt it. He has not spoke of it by an organ that is given to lying. His eyes are all that have ever told me that he was mine. I know his virtue, I know his filial piety, and ought to trust his management with a father to whom he has uncommon obligations. What have I to be concerned for? my lesson is very short. If he takes me for ever, my purpose of life is only to please him. If he leaves me (which Heaven avert) I know he'll do it nobly, and I shall have nothing to do but to learn to die, after worse than death has happened to me. _Isab._ Ay, do, persist in your credulity! flatter yourself that a man of his figure and fortune will make himself the jest of the town, and marry a handsome beggar for love. _Ind._ The town! I must tell you, madam, the fools that laugh at Mr. Bevil will but make themselves more ridiculous; his actions are the result of thinking, and he has sense enough to make even virtue fashionable. _Isab._ O' my conscience he has turned her head.--Come, come, if he were the honest fool you take him for, why has he kept you here these three weeks, without sending you to Bristol in search of your father, your family, and your relations? _Ind._ I am convinced he still designs it, and that nothing keeps him here, but the necessity of coming to a breach with his father in regard to the match he has proposed him. Beside, has he not writ to Bristol? and has not he advice that my father has not been heard of there almost these twenty years? _Isab._ All sham, mere evasion; he is afraid, if he should carry you thither, your honest relations may take you out of his hands, and so blow up all his wicked hopes at once. _Ind._ Wicked hopes! did I ever give him any such? _Isab._ Has he ever given you any honest ones? Can you say, in your conscience, he has ever once offered to marry you? _Ind._ No! but by his behaviour I am convinced he will offer it, the moment 'tis in his power, or consistent with his honour, to make such a promise good to me. _Isab._ His honour! _Ind._ I will rely upon it; therefore desire you will not make my life uneasy, by these ungrateful jealousies of one, to whom I am, and wish to be, obliged. For from his integrity alone, I have resolved to hope for happiness. _Isab._ Nay, I have done my duty; if you won't see, at your peril be it! _Ind._ Let it be--This is his hour of visiting me.