endure. The love of life and fear of shame, opposed by inclination strong as death or shame, like wind and tide in raging conflict met, when neither can pre
|vail, keep me in doubt. How then can I de||150|
THOR. Without a cause assigned, or notice given, to absent yourself last night was a fault, young man, and I came to chide you for it, but hope I am pre
|vented.1 That modest blush, the confusion so||155|
|your peace, look up, secure of both.||160|
BARN. (aside). This goodness has o'ercome me. -- O sir! you know not the nature and extent of my offence, and I should abuse your mistaken bounty to receive it. Though I had rather die than speak my
|shame; though racks could not have forced the||165|
THOR. Enough, enough; whate'er it be, this concern shows you're convinced, and I am satisfied. (Aside.) How painful is the sense of guilt to an in
|genuous mind -- some youthful folly which it||170|
|scarce formed and wholly unassisted by experi||175|
|for their defence.||180|
BARN. It will be known, and you recall your pardon and abhor me.
THOR. I never will. Yet be upon your guard in this gay, thoughtless season of your life; when the
|sense of pleasure's quick and passion high, the||185|
BARN. Hear me on my knees confess --
|THOR. Not a syllable more upon this subject;||190|
BARN. This generosity amazes and distracts me.
THOR. This remorse makes thee dearer to me
|than if thou hadst never offended. Whatever is||195|
BARN. Villain! villain! villain! basely to wrong so excellent a man! Should I again return to folly?
|-- detested thought! -- But what of Millwood||200|
Enter a Footman.
FOOT. Sir, two ladies from your uncle in the country desire to see you.
BARN. (aside). Who should they be? -- Tell them I'll wait upon 'em. Exit Footman.
|Methinks I dread to see 'em. Now every||210|
Another room in THOROWGOOD'S house.
MILLWOODand Lucy discovered.
FOOT. Ladies, he'll wait upon you immediately.
MILL. 'Tis very well. I thank you.
BARN. [aside]. Confusion! -- Millwood!
MILL. That angry look tells me that here I'm an
|unwelcome guest. I feared as much -- the un||5|
BARN. Will nothing but my utter ruin content you?
MILL. Unkind and cruel! Lost myself, your hap
|piness is now my only care.||10|
BARN. How did you gain admission?
MILL. Saying we were desired by your uncle to visit and deliver a message to you, we were received by the family without suspicion, and with much
|respect conducted here.||15|
BARN. Why did you come at all?
MILL. I never shall trouble you more; I'm come to take my leave forever. Such is the malice of my fate. I go hopeless, despairing ever to return. This
|hour is all I have left. One short hour is all I||20|
BARN. Then we are met to part forever?
MILL. It must be so. Yet think not that time or
|absence shall ever put a period to my grief or||25|