March. I am wholly ignorant of your designs; but I can perceive from your reserve, embarrassment, your very air and voice, that you are practising deceit with

me.

Count. But, my dear Marchioness, will you be so kind as to acquaint me what this deceit is?

March. You know I can't tell; and it is that which tortures me. If I did but know in what you used me ill! Now, do tell me, that I may have the pleasure to forgive you.

Count. I wish to Heaven I had done something wrong; but I cannot recollect—[Considering]—or I would confess it, on purpose to oblige you.

March. Be gone, sir; leave the room; your impertinence is no longer supportable; leave me instantly. [Violently. [Bows, and is going.

Count. I obey. March. If you go, if you dare to leave me in this uncertainty, all ties between us are for ever broken; nor shall you ever come into my presence again. [He returns.] How could you think of leaving me?

Count. It was you thought of it.

March. I am all confusion at the weakness I have discovered, and wish to be alone-leave me. [Gently. Count. Do you mean, leave you, or not leave you? March. Do as you please; I shall go myself. [Going. Count. And I'll attend you.

March. Ah! Valantia! if you loved me as you once professed! to see me thus, would give you the utmost affliction.

Count. You do not know what passes in my heart. [Affecting concern.

March. Don't I?

Count. No. [Aside.] I should be very sorry if you [Exit, R., handing her off.

did.

SCENE III.-Apartments in the Castle.

Enter DUKE MURCIA and MARQUIS ALMANZA. Duke. I own she is handsome, but then she has no fortune.

Mar. My lord, I own to you, it is only from the idea that I am not beloved by Amanthis, I can ever resolve to yield her up; for could I suppose she loved me, all other happiness, all pride, all ambition, all enjoyment, but in her, I would forego with transport; but all the

affection she expresses, although the most tender and endearing, I can see, is but inspired by gratitude; of love she knows nothing.

Duke. Whose fault is that? were not you her tutor? Mar. Certainly.

Duke. And taught her every thing but what you wanted her to learn. Here she comes; I'll go away. She is very pretty, to be sure; but she has caused me so much uneasiness, I don't like to see her. She agitates me as much as she does you, but from a very different senti[Exit.

ment.

Enter AMANTHIS, L.

Aman. Oh! I have been so frightened!
Mar. What's the matter?

Aman. The young man, he that I told you of, is in this house. I am sure it is him; on crossing one of the garden walks, I perceived him very near to me, yet he drew nearer still; till he saw somebody coming, and then he ran away. But he has frightened me so much, and made my heart feel so strange, as it never felt before.

Mar. Your heart! Why your heart?

Aman. [Laying her hand on it.] The fright has made it beat quick.

Mar. Ah! it is not fright.

[Aside. Aman. And yet he did not look frightful either. His face is very handsome; his shape, and all his mien, engaging.

Mar. I no longer doubt but it is the Count. [Aside.] My dear Amanthis, you will see this young nobleman very soon again; he is here on a visit: have I never mentioned to you the Count Valantia?

Aman. Yes.

Mar. He is the man who has thus surprised you. Aman. Is it possible? and with that strange kind of wild behaviour is he admitted into company?

Mar. If you should at any time be alone with him, you may tell him your sentiments on his behaviour; your sentiments exactly such as they are, and such as his behaviour inspires.

Aman. And if he should chance to behave well, I'll tell him I like him.

Mar. [Starting.] I lay no restrictions on you; I only warn you that he is a light, inconsiderate, and vain young man; his company dangerous, for his principles are not good.

[Aside.

Aman. What a pity! I'll tell him to grow better.
Mar. She is charmed, I find.
Aman. What did you say?

Mar. It is necessary, Amanthis, that, whatever are your thoughts of this young man, you do not reveal them to any of your acquaintance; and when you meet with him, restrain all fear, all emotion of what kind soever; before company, do not seem even to know him.

Aman. Here is somebody coming; how cruel! I can never now be alone with you an instant.

Mar. It is the Marchioness. I must leave you. Aman. Nay, that is still worse. Stay, though we are not alone.

Mar. I cannot.

Aman. But if you cannot stay, I can go with you. Mar. Impossible: remain where you are. [Aside.] I see my fate. [Exit, R.

Enter MARCHIONESS MERIDA, L. March. My dear creature, what is the matter with you? You look unhappy! Speak to me with coufidence; trust me with your secret uneasiness.

Aman. No, I must not; I must not discover the afflictions I feel, and the secrets of my heart; my lord has commanded me not. But this moment he flew away abruptly, and frowned when I asked to follow him, although he knows how much I was frightened some time ago by a young man who is now in this house. March. Who is that? My dear, tell me who?

Aman. Count-I forget his name.

[Eagerly

March. [Aside.] Have I at last detected him?
Aman. Did you never see him?
March. Yes, I believe I have.

Aman. And a'n't you afraid of him? Does he not look wild and madly? Lays his hand upon his heart, and sighs? [Sighing.

March. No, my dear; he does not do so with me; he once did, but that time is over.

Aman. But when that time was, were you not afraid? March. No: I wish I had been.

Aman. But you are not to mention what I have been telling you, for fear it should grieve the Count. I promised I would not speak of it to any one. But to you it surely cannot signify; my lord could not mean I was not to tell you.

March. No: I was the properest person on earth to tell it to.

Aman. Yes: you would not hurt him, I am sure; for he is agreeable, notwithstanding all his wildness; and if he would but keep at a distance, I should like to look at hin, and hear him talk.

March. And did you tell the Marquis so?

Aman. Yes.

March. What did he say ?

Aman. He bade me tell the Count all I thought of him.

March. And will you?

Aman. No.

March. Why not?

Aman. For fear, poor man, I should make him uneasy. March. Oh, it won't, my dear; never fear that; it will not make him uneasy: tell him you hate him.

Aman. But I don't.

March. He is coming this way.

Aman. Ah, let me fly!

March. Stay; did not the Marquis command

[Going.

Aman. True; and I'll stay and tell him what I think of him.

March. And what is that?

Aman. That he makes me tremble.

March. You must not tell him so.

Aman. But he'll see it.

Enter COUNT VALANTIA, L.

Count. The Marchioness here! unfortunate! [Aside; then bowing to her.] I this moment parted from my lord the Marquis at the top of the lawn, and he charged me with a commission, which was, when I saw your ladyship, to tell you he wished to speak with you.

Aman. Let me go with you.

Count. It is some private conversation which the Marquis, I believe, requires.

March. I have private conversation, too, for him. Amanthis, wait till I return.

Aman. [Aside to the MARCHIONESS.] He does not look so wildly as he did. I am not much afraid. March. Indeed ! then I shall soon be back.

[Exit MARCHIONESS, L.

Count. [Looking after her, then falling on his knees

to AMANTHIS.] Behold me

Aman. I durst not look at you.

[Frightened.

Count. Is it terror you express? how is it possible that my tender passion can awake in that soft bosom an alarm? Do you fear me?

Aman. Yes; but go and behave thus to the Marchioness; she does not fear you.

Count. Oh! do not torture me with a rebuke like that. 'Tis you alone can make me happy; and if you refuse, you drive me to despair.

Aman. No; I wish to give you hope.

Count. Do you bid me hope?

Aman. Yes.

Count. And you'll be kind?

Aman. To be sure I will.

Count. What will you do to prove it?

Aman. Send for a priest to comfort you.

Count. A priest! Will you then make me blest? Aman. If I can; for I assure you I like you very well; and, did you not behave so strangely, I should like you better; for you are very handsome; therefore, be not uneasy, and think you are not admired, for I can see that would afflict you more than any thing.

Count. You admire me then? transporting happi

ness!

Aman. Oh! now you are going to frighten me again. [Aside.] I must steal away.

Count. You tremble, and look pale; may I interpret these sweet emotions in my favour?

Aman. Yes, if you please.

Count. You then will make me happy?

Aman. I will do all I can.

Count. Then know, angelic creature! you shall find in me, all that truth, that constancy, that everlasting flame

Aman. Oh, terrible! don't be in such a passion, pray. Count. These moments are precious! Vow never again to shun me; never more to look unkindly; and I swear the most perfect love.

Aman. Here, smell of this bottle; it will do you good; it will relieve your head.

[Holding out a smelling-bottle. Count. What the devil does she mean? [Aside.

Enter MARCHIONESS MERIDA, L

Aman. I am glad you are returned. [Running to the MARCHIONESS, then turning to the COUNT.] Bless me,