_Selby._ Like to a man that hovers in suspense Over a letter just received, on which The black seal hath impress'd its ominous token, Whether to open it or no, so I Suspended stand, whether to press my fate Further, or check ill curiosity, That tempts me to more loss.--The name, the name Of this fine youth? _Mrs. F._ What boots it, if 'twere told? _Selby._ Now, by our loves, And by my hopes of happier wedlocks, some day To be accomplish'd, give me his name! _Mrs. F._ 'Tis no such serious matter. It was--Huntingdon. _Selby._ How have three little syllables pluck'd from me A world of countless hopes!-- [_Aside._ Evasive Widow. _Mrs. F._ How, sir!--I like not this. [_Aside._ _Selby._ No, no, I meant Nothing but good to thee. That other woman, How shall I call her but evasive, false, And treacherous?--by the trust I place in thee, Tell me, and tell me truly, was the name As you pronounced it? _Mrs. F._ Huntingdon--the name, Which his paternal grandfather assumed, Together with the estates of a remote Kinsman: but our high-spirited youth-- _Selby._ Yes-- _Mrs. F._ Disdaining For sordid pelf to truck the family honors, At risk of the lost estates, resumed the old style, And answer'd only to the name of-- _Selby._ What-- _Mrs. F._ Of Halford-- _Selby._ A Huntingdon to Halford changed so soon! Why, then I see, a witch hath her good spells, As well as bad, and can by a backward charm Unruffle the foul storm she has just been raising. [_Aside. He makes the signal._ My frank, fair-spoken Widow! let this kiss, Which yet aspires no higher, speak my thanks, Till I can think on greater. _Enter_ LUCY _and_ KATHERINE. _Mrs. F._ Interrupted! _Selby._ My sister here! and see, where with her comes My serpent gliding in an angel's form, To taint the new-born Eden of our joys. Why should we fear them? We'll not stir a foot, Nor coy it for their pleasures. [_He courts the Widow._ _Lucy (to Katherine)._ This your free, And sweet ingenuous confession, binds me Forever to you; and it shall go hard, But it shall fetch you back your husband's heart, That now seems blindly straying; or, at worst, In me you have still a sister.--Some wives, brother, Would think it strange to catch their husbands thus Alone with a trim widow; but your Katherine Is arm'd, I think, with patience. _Kath._ I am fortified With knowledge of self-faults to endure worse wrongs, If they be wrongs, than he can lay upon me; Even to look on, and see him sue in earnest, As now I think he does it but in seeming, To that ill woman.