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　　SCENE.-Mrs. Selby's Chamber.

　　MRS. FRAMPTON. KATHERINE.

　　MRS. FRAMPTON

　　Did I express myself in terms so strong?

　　KATHERINE

　　As nothing could have more affrighted me.

　　MRS. FRAMPTON

　　Think it a hurt friend's jest, in retribution

　　Of a suspected cooling hospitality.

　　And, for my staying here, or going hence,

　　(Now I remember something of our argument,)

　　Selby and I can settle that between us.

　　You look amazed. What if your husband, child,

　　Himself has courted me to stay?

　　KATHERINE

　　You move

　　My wonder and my pleasure equally.

　　MRS. FRAMPTON

　　Yes, courted me to stay, waiv'd all objections.

　　Made it a favour to yourselves; not me,

　　His troublesome guest, as you surmised. Child, child!

　　When I recall his flattering welcome, I

　　Begin to think the burden of my presence

　　Was—

　　KATHERINE

　　What, for Heaven—

　　MRS. FRAMPTON

　　A little, little spice

　　Of jealousy—that's all—an honest pretext,

　　No wife need blush for. Say that you should see

　　(As oftentimes we widows take such freedoms,

　　Yet still on this side virtue,) in a jest

　　Your husband pat me on the cheek, or steal

　　A kiss, while you were by,—not else, for virtue's sake.

　　KATHERINE

　　I could endure all this, thinking my husband

　　Meant it in sport—

　　MRS. FRAMPTON

　　But if in downright earnest

　　(Putting myself out of the question here)

　　Your Selby, as I partly do suspect,

　　Own'd a divided heart—

　　KATHERINE

　　My own would break—

　　MRS. FRAMPTON

　　Why, what a blind and witless fool it is,

　　That will not see its gains, its infinite gains—

　　KATHERINE

　　Gain in a loss,

　　Or mirth in utter desolation!

　　MRS. FRAMPTON

　　He doting on a face—suppose it mine,

　　Or any other's tolerably fair—

　　What need you care about a senseless secret?

　　KATHERINE

　　Perplex'd and fearful woman! I in part

　　Fathom your dangerous meaning. You have broke

　　The worse than iron band, fretting the soul,

　　By which you held me captive. Whether my husband

　　Is what you gave him out, or your fool'd fancy

　　But dreams he is so, either way I am free.

　　MRS. FRAMPTON

　　It talks it bravely, blazons out its shame;

　　A very heroine while on its knees;

　　Rowe's Penitent, an absolute Calista!

　　KATHERINE

　　Not to thy wretched self these tears are falling;

　　But to my husband, and offended heaven,

　　Some drops are due—and then I sleep in peace,

　　Reliev'd from frightful dreams, my dreams though sad.

　　[Exit.]

　　MRS. FRAMPTON

　　I have gone too far. Who knows but in this mood

　　She may forestall my story, win on Selby

　　By a frank confession?—and the time draws on

　　For our appointed meeting. The game's desperate,

　　For which I play. A moment's difference

　　May make it hers or mine. I fly to meet him.

　　[Exit.] The Works of Charles and Mary Lamb — Volume 4