MANLY. I hope you will excuse my speaking upon so important a subject so abruptly; but, the moment I entered your room, you struck me as the lady whom I had long loved in imagination, and never hoped to see. MARIA. Indeed, sir, I have been led to hear more upon this subject than I ought. MANLY. Do you, then, disapprove my suit, madam, or the abruptness of my introducing it? If the latter, my peculiar situation, being obliged to leave the city in a few days, will, I hope, be my excuse; if the former, I will retire, for I am sure I would not give a moment's inquietude to her whom I could devote my life to please. I am not so indelicate as to seek your immediate approbation; permit me only to be near you, and by a thousand tender assiduities to endeavour to excite a grateful return. MARIA. I have a father, whom I would die to make happy; he will disapprove-- MANLY. Do you think me so ungenerous as to seek a place in your esteem without his consent? You must--you ever ought to consider that man as unworthy of you who seeks an interest in your heart, contrary to a father's approbation. A young lady should reflect that the loss of a lover may be supplied, but nothing can compensate for the loss of a parent's affection. Yet, why do you suppose your father would disapprove? In our country, the affections are not sacrificed to riches or family-aggrandizement: should you approve, my family is decent, and my rank honourable. MARIA. You distress me, sir. MANLY. Then I will sincerely beg your excuse for obtruding so disagreeable a subject, and retire. [_Going._ MARIA. Stay, sir! your generosity and good opinion of me deserve a return; but why must I declare what, for these few hours, I have scarce suffered myself to think?--I am-- MANLY. What? MARIA. Engaged, sir; and, in a few days, to be married to the gentleman you saw at your sister's. MANLY. Engaged to be married! And have I been basely invading the rights of another? Why have you permitted this? Is this the return for the partiality I declared for you? MARIA. You distress me, sir. What would you have me say? You are too generous to wish the truth. Ought I to say that I dared not suffer myself to think of my engagement, and that I am going to give my hand without my heart? Would you have me confess a partiality for you? If so, your triumph is complete, and can be only more so when days of misery with the man I cannot love will make me think of him whom I prefer. MANLY. [_After a pause._]. We are both unhappy; but it is your duty to obey your parent--mine to obey my honour. Let us, therefore, both follow the path of rectitude; and of this we may be assured, that if we are not happy, we shall, at least, deserve to be so. Adieu! I dare not trust myself longer with you. [_Exeunt severally._ _End of the Fourth Act._ ACT V. SCENE I. _DIMPLE'S Lodgings._ JESSAMY [_meeting JONATHAN_].