for ever.
And, but I know lord Weston has a soul,
Possess'd of every virtue heav'n bestows,
I wou'd far rather wed in mine own rank,
Where truth and happiness are oft'ner found,
Than midst the glaring grandeur of the great.

ANDREWS. Come to thy father's arms, thou sweet resemblance
Of the perfections of your much-lov'd mother;
A loss each day felt more--yet, my Constantia,
What tho' your charms and virtue shou'd surpass
All that e'er center'd in a virgin frame,
To be the choice of this exalted youth
Causes a thousand fears in my fond heart.

CONSTANTIA. O sir! how you alarm me! heav'n! what fears?

ANDREWS. Constantia singled out, preferr'd to numbers
Of the first rank, who would exult to win him,
Will rouse up ev'ry baneful blast of envy,
Perfections such as thine ne'er 'scape malignity.

CONSTANTIA. The example of that honour to her sex,
My dear lost mother, with the wholesome lessons
Instill'd by you, will so direct my steps,
I may those blasts escape your fondness fears.

ANDREWS. Yet, should this change in your condition happen,
This also treasure in your mind; that man,
As in his frame, so is his spirit rough;
Whilst your more tender sex was form'd by heav'n,
To sooth those cares, which from his state still flow,
With winning grace, and smooth life's rugged paths.
That she who best submits will surest reign;
In youth be idolized, in age revered.
But when perverse contention marks her conduct,
And passion's transitory joys are pall'd,
The past offence will to the mind recur,
And all that once had charm'd be quite forgot.

CONSTANTIA. Good heav'n! of two such parents make me worthy.

Enter MARIA.

ANDREWS. Some message from my wife--withdraw awhile.

CONSTANTIA. [As she goes off] Alas! I fear some deep distress
affects him.

ANDREWS. Where is your mistress?

MARIA. In her chamber, sir.

ANDREWS. Go tell her I am here, and wish to see her.

MARIA. Good sir! she has been greatly indispos'd:
But somewhat eas'd, was in a friendly slumber,
Till rous'd at hearing that some sudden ailment
Had just now seiz'd you, she dispatch'd me hither,
And most impatient waits for my return
With tidings of your health, to her so precious.

ANDREWS. Th