SILV. Respects, and peruse it! He's gone, and Araminta has
bewitched him from me. Oh, how the name of rival fires my blood.
I could curse 'em both; eternal jealousy attend her love, and
disappointment meet his. Oh that I could revenge the torment he
has caused; methinks I feel the woman strong within me, and
vengeance kindles in the room of love.

LUCY. I have that in my head may make mischief.

SILV. How, dear Lucy?

LUCY. You know Araminta's dissembled coyness has won, and keeps
him hers -

SILV. Could we persuade him that she loves another -

LUCY. No, you're out; could we persuade him that she dotes on him,
himself. Contrive a kind letter as from her, 'twould disgust his
nicety, and take away his stomach.

SILV. Impossible; 'twill never take.

LUCY. Trouble not your head. Let me alone--I will inform myself
of what passed between 'em to-day, and about it straight. Hold,
I'm mistaken, or that's Heartwell, who stands talking at the
corner--'tis he--go get you in, madam, receive him pleasantly,
dress up your face in innocence and smiles, and dissemble the very
want of dissimulation. You know what will take him.

SILV. 'Tis as hard to counterfeit love as it is to conceal it: