nd at last even conquered, by giving them free
scope. They wear themselves away. Can you accuse me, my fickle friend,
of ever having been jealous, when more powerful charms than mine
estranged you from me for a time? I never grudged you the change, by
which I always won more than I lost. You returned with new ardour, with
new passion to my arms, in which with light bonds, and never with heavy
fetters I encompassed you. Have I not often even been your confidante
though you had nothing to confide but the favours which you stole from
me, in order to lavish them on others. Why should you believe then,
that I would now begin to display a capriciousness just when I am
ceasing, or, perhaps have already ceased, to be justified in it. If
your ardour for the pretty country girl has not yet cooled down, if you
are still in the first fever of your love for her; if you cannot yet do
without the enjoyment she gives you; who hinders you from devoting
yourself to her, as long as you think good? But must you on that
account make such rash projects, and purpose to fly from the country
with her?

MELLEFONT.

Marwood! You speak in perfect keeping with your character, the
wickedness of which I never understood so well as I do now, since, in
the society of a virtuous woman, I have learned to distinguish love
from licentiousness.

MARWOOD.

Indeed! Your new mistress is then a girl of fine moral sentiments, I
suppose? You men surely cannot know yourselves what you want. At one
time you are pleased with the most wanton talk and the most unchaste
jests from us, at another time we charm you, when we talk nothing but
virtue, and seem to have all the seven sages on our lips. But the worst
is, that you get tired of one as much as the other. We may be foolish
or reasonable, worldly or spiritual; our efforts to make you constant
are lost either way. The turn will come to your beautiful saint soon
enough. Shall I give you a little sketch? Just at present you are in
the most passionate paroxysm over her. I allow this two or at the most
three days more. To this will succeed a tolerably calm love; for this I
allow a week. The next week you will only think occasionally of this
love. In the third week, you will have to be reminded of it; and when
you have got tired of being thus reminded, you will so quickly see
yourself reduced to the most utter indifference, that I can hardly
allow the fo