oundation of his hopes:--what temper can contain? They
talk of sending Maskwell to me; I never had more need of him. But what
can he do? Imagination cannot form a fairer and more plausible design
than this of his which has miscarried. O my precious aunt, I shall never
thrive without I deal with the devil, or another woman.

Women, like flames, have a destroying power,

Ne'er to be quenched, till they themselves devour.

ACT V.

SCENE I.

LADY TOUCHWOOD _and_ MASKWELL.

LADY TOUCH. Was't not lucky?

MASK. Lucky! Fortune is your own, and 'tis her interest so to be. By
heaven I believe you can control her power, and she fears it: though
chance brought my lord, 'twas your own art that turned it to advantage.

LADY TOUCH. 'Tis true it might have been my ruin. But yonder's my lord.
I believe he's coming to find you: I'll not be seen.

SCENE II.

MASKWELL _alone_.

MASK. So; I durst not own my introducing my lord, though it succeeded
well for her, for she would have suspected a design which I should have
been puzzled to excuse. My lord is thoughtful. I'll be so too; yet he
shall know my thoughts: or think he does.

SCENE III.

[_To him_] LORD TOUCHWOOD.

MASK. What have I done?

LORD TOUCH. Talking to himself!

MASK. 'Twas honest--and shall I be rewarded for it? No, 'twas honest,
therefore I shan't. Nay, rather therefore I ought not; for it rewards
itself.

LORD TOUCH. Unequalled virtue! [_Aside_.]

MASK. But should it be known, then I have lost a friend! He was an ill
man, and I have gained; for half myself I lent him, and that I have
recalled: so I have served myself, and what is yet better, I have served
a worthy lord to whom I owe myself.

LORD TOUCH. Excellent man! [_Aside_.]

MASK. Yet I am wretched. Oh, there is a secret burns within this
breast, which, should it once blaze forth, would ruin all, consume my
honest character, and brand me with the name of villain.

LORD TOUCH. Ha!

MASK. Why do I love! Yet heaven and my waking conscience are my
witnesses, I never gave one working thought a vent, which might discover
that I loved, nor ever must. No, let it prey upon my heart; for I would
rather die, than seem once, barely seem, dishonest. Oh, should it once
be known I love fair Cynthia, all this that I have done would look like
rival's malice, false friendship to my lord, and base self-interest. Let
me perish first, and from this hour avoid all