is story will make him have a
good opinion of my honesty,--and that, I am sure, will be one step
towards----O! bless me,--here he comes,--and my young master with him.--
I'll watch an opportunity to speak to him as soon as he is alone,--for I
will blow her up I am resolved,--as great a favourite and as cunning as
she is. [_Exit._

_Enter_ EGERTON _in great warmth and emotion_;
SIDNEY _following, as in conversation_.

_Sid_. Nay, dear Charles, but why are you so impetuous?--why do you break
from me so abruptly?

_Eger. [With great warmth_.] I have done, sir,--you have refused.--I have
nothing more to say upon the subject.--I am satisfied.

_Sid. [With a glow of tender friendship_.] Come, come--correct this
warmth,--it is the only weak ingredient in your nature, and you ought to
watch it carefully. If I am wrong,--I will submit without reserve;--but
consider the nature of your request--and how it would affect me:--from
your earliest youth, your father has honoured me with the care of your
education, and the general conduct of your mind; and, however singular and
morose his temper may be to others,--to me--he has ever been respectful
and liberal.--I am now under his roof too,--and because I will not abet an
unwarrantable passion by an abuse of my sacred character, in marrying you
beneath your rank,--and in direct opposition to your father's hopes and
happiness,--you blame me--you angrily break from me--and call me unkind.

_Eger. [With tenderness and conviction_.] Dear Sidney,--for my warmth I
stand condemned: but for my marriage with Constantia, I think I can
justify it upon every principle of filial duty,--honour,--and worldly
prudence.

_Sid_. Only make that appear, Charles, and you know you may command me.

_Eger. [With great filial regret_.] I am sensible how unseemly it appears
in a son to descant on the unamiable passions of a parent;--but, as we are
alone, and friends,--I cannot help observing in my own defence,--that when
a father will not allow the use of reason to any of his family--when his
pursuit of greatness makes him a slave abroad--only to be a tyrant at
home,--when a narrow partiality to Scotland, on every trivial occasion,
provokes him to enmity even with his wife and children, only because they
dare give a national preference where they think it most justly due;--and
when, merely to gratify his own ambition, he would marry his son into a
family he detests,--[_great warmth_.] sure,