I find
myself unequal to the task of villain; she has
gained my soul, and made it honest like her own.--
I cannot, cannot hurt her.--[_Aloud_.] Doctor, retire.
--[_Exit Foigard_] Madam, behold your lover and
your proselyte, and judge of my passion by my
conversion!--I 'm all a lie, nor dare I give a
fiction to your arms; I 'm all counterfeit, except my
passion.

_Dor_. Forbid it, Heaven! a counterfeit! {29}

_Aim_. I am no lord, but a poor needy man, come with a
mean, a scandalous design to prey upon your fortune;
but the beauties of your mind and person have
so won me from myself that, like a trusty servant, I
prefer the interest of my mistress to my own.

_Dor_. Sure I have had the dream of some poor mariner,
a sleepy image of a welcome port, and wake involved
in storms!--Pray, sir, who are you?

_Aim_. Brother to the man whose title I usurped, but
stranger to his honour or his fortune. {39}

_Dor_. Matchless honesty!--Once I was proud, sir, of
your wealth and title, but now am prouder that you
want it: now I can show my love was justly levelled,
and had no aim but love.--Doctor, come in.

_Enter Foigard at one door, Gipsy at another-,
who whispers Dorinda_.

[_To Foigard_.] Your pardon, sir, we shan't want you
now.--[_To Aimweil_.] Sir, you must excuse me--I 'll
wait on you presently. [_Exit with Gipsy_.

_Foi_. Upon my shoul, now, dis is foolish. [_Exit_.

_Aim_. Gone! and bid the priest depart!--It has an
ominous look.

_Enter Archer_.

_Arch_. Courage, Tom!--Shall I wish you joy? {50}

_Aim_. No.

_Arch_. 'Oons, man, what ha' you been doing?

_Aim_. O Archer! my honesty, I fear, has ruined me.

_Arch_. How?

_Aim_. I have discovered myself.

_Arch_. Discovered! and without my consent? What!
have I embarked my small remains in the same
bottom with yours, and you dispose of all without
my partnership?

_Aim_. O Archer! I own my fault. 60

_Arch_. After conviction--'tis then too late for pardon.--
You may remember, Mr. Aimwell, that you proposed
this folly: as you begun, so end it. Henceforth
I 'll hunt my fortune single--so farewell!

_Aim_. Stay, my dear Archer, but a minute.

_Arch_. Stay! what, to be despised, exposed, and laughed
at! No, I would sooner change conditions with the
worst of the rogues we just now bound, than bear
one scornful smile from the proud knight that once
I treated as my equal.