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all your little difficulties, Your girlish scrapes? I was the scape-goat still, To fetch you off; kept all your secrets, some, Perhaps, since then-- _Kath_. No more of that, for mercy, If you'd not have me, sinking at your feet, Cleave the cold earth for comfort. [_Kneels_. _Mrs. F._ This to me? This posture to your friend had better suited The orphan Katherine in her humble school-days To the _then_ rich heiress, than the wife of Selby, Of wealthy Mr. Selby, To the poor widow Frampton, sunk as she is. Come, come, 'Twas something, or 'twas nothing, that I said; I did not mean to fright you, sweetest bedfellow! You once were so, but Selby now engrosses you. I'll make him give you up a night or so; In faith I will: that we may lie, and talk Old tricks of school-days over. _Kath._ Hear me, madam-- _Mrs. F._ Not by that name. Your friend-- _Kath._ My truest friend, And savior of my honor! _Mrs. F._ This sounds better; You still shall find me such. _Kath._ That you have graced Our poor house with your presence hitherto, Has been my greatest comfort, the sole solace Of my forlorn and hardly guess'd estate. You have been pleased To accept some trivial hospitalities, In part of payment of a long arrear I owe to you, no less than for my life. _Mrs. F._ You speak my services too large. _Kath._ Nay, less; For what an abject thing were life to me Without your silence on my dreadful secret! And I would wish the league we have renew'd Might be perpetual-- _Mrs. F._ Have a care, fine madam! [_Aside._ _Kath._ That one house still might hold us. But my husband Has shown himself of late-- _Mrs. F._ How, Mistress Selby? _Kath._ Not, not impatient. You misconstrue him. He honors, and he loves, nay, he must love The friend of his wife's youth. But there are moods, In which-- _Mrs. F._ I understand you;--in which husbands, And wives that love, may wish to be alone, To nurse the tender fits of new-born dalliance, After a five years' wedlock. _Kath._ Was that well, Or charitably put? do these pale cheeks Proclaim a wanton blood? This wasting form Seem a fit theatre for Levity To play his love-tricks on; and act such follies, As even in Affection's first bland Moon Have less of grace than
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