BELL. Faith, madam, I dare not speak to her, but I'll make signs. [_Addresses Belinda in dumb show_.] BELIN. Oh, foh, your dumb rhetoric is more ridiculous than your talking impertinence, as an ape is a much more troublesome animal than a parrot. ARAM. Ay, cousin, and 'tis a sign the creatures mimic nature well; for there are few men but do more silly things than they say. BELL. Well, I find my apishness has paid the ransom for my speech, and set it at liberty--though, I confess, I could be well enough pleased to drive on a love-bargain in that silent manner--'twould save a man a world of lying and swearing at the year's end. Besides, I have had a little experience, that brings to mind-- When wit and reason both have failed to move; Kind looks and actions (from success) do prove, Ev'n silence may be eloquent in love. ACT III. SCENE I. SCENE: _The Street_. SILVIA _and_ LUCY. SILV. Will he not come, then? LUCY. Yes, yes; come, I warrant him, if you will go in and be ready to receive him. SILV. Why did you not tell me? Whom mean you? LUCY. Whom you should mean, Heartwell. SILV. Senseless creature, I meant my Vainlove. LUCY. You may as soon hope to recover your own maiden-head as his love. Therefore, e'en set your heart at rest, and in the name of opportunity mind your own business. Strike Heartwell home before the bait's worn off the hook. Age will come. He nibbled fairly yesterday, and no doubt will be eager enough to-day to swallow the temptation. SILV. Well, since there's no remedy--yet tell me--for I would know, though to the anguish of my soul, how did he refuse? Tell me, how did he receive my letter--in anger or in scorn? LUCY. Neither; but what was ten times worse, with damned senseless indifference. By this light I could have spit in his face. Receive it! Why, he received it as I would one of your lovers that should come empty- handed; as a court lord does his mercer's bill or a begging dedication--he received it as if 't had been a letter from his wife. SILV. What! did he not read it? LUCY. Hummed it over, gave you his respects, and said he would take time to peruse it--but then he was in haste. SILV. Respects, and peruse it! He's gone, and Araminta has bewitched him from me. Oh, how the name of rival fires my blood. I could curse 'em both; eternal jealousy attend her love, and disappointment meet his. Oh that I could revenge the torment he has caused; methinks I feel the woman strong within me, and vengeance kindles in the room of love. LUCY. I have that in my head may make mischief. SILV. How, dear Lucy? LUCY. You know Araminta's dissembled coyness has won, and keeps him hers-- SILV. Could we persuade him that she loves another-- LUCY. No, you're out; could we persuade him that she dotes on him, himself. Contrive a kind letter as from her, 'twould disgust his nicety, and take away his stomach. SILV. Impossible; 'twill never take.