Page:The Mysterious Mother - Walpole (1781).djvu/22

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THE MYSTERIOUS MOTHER.

SCENE V.

BENEDICT, COUNTESS.

BENEDICT.
I sought you, lady.

COUNTESS.
Who needs the widHappily I'm found.
Who needs the widow's mite?

BENEDICT.
Your gracious foresight still preNone ask your aid.
Your gracious foresight still prevents occasion:
And your poor beadsman joys to meet your presence;
Uncumber'd with a suit. It pains my soul,
Oft as I tax your bounty, lest I seem
A craving or immodest almoner.

COUNTESS.
No more of this, good father. I suspect not
One of your holy order of dissembling:
Suspect not me of loving flattery.
Pass a few years, and I shall be a corpse—
Will flattery then new cloath my skeleton,
Fill out these hollow jaws? Will't give me virtues?
Or at the solemn audit pass for truth,
And varnish o'er my stains?

BENEDICT.
Your pardon—but you scorThe church could seal
Your pardon—but you scorn it. In your pride
Consists your danger. Your's are Pagan virtues:
As such I praise them—but as such, condemn them.

COUNTESS.

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