LORD TOUCHWOOD and LADY TOUCHWOOD.
LADY TOUCH. My lord, can you blame my brother Plyant if he refuse his daughter
upon this provocation? The contract's void by this unheard-of impiety.
LORD TOUCH. I don't believe it true; he has better principles. Pho, 'tis nonsense.
Come, come, I know my Lady Plyant has a large eye, and would centre everything in her
own circle; 'tis not the first time she has mistaken respect for love, and made Sir Paul
jealous of the civility of an undesigning person, the better to bespeak his security in her
LADY TOUCH. You censure hardly, my lord; my sister's honour is very well known.
LORD TOUCH. Yes, I believe I know some that have been familiarly acquainted with
it. This is a little trick wrought by some pitiful contriver, envious of my nephew's merit.
LADY TOUCH. Nay, my lord, it may be so, and I hope it will be found so. But that will
require some time; for in such a case as this, demonstration is necessary.
LORD TOUCH. There should have been demonstration of the contrary too, before it
had been believed.
LADY TOUCH. So I suppose there was.
LORD TOUCH. How? Where? When?
LADY TOUCH. That I can't tell; nay, I don't say there was. I am willing to believe as
favourably of my nephew as I can.
LORD TOUCH. I don't know that. [Half aside.]
LADY TOUCH. How? Don't you believe that, say you, my lord?
LORD TOUCH. No, I don't say so. I confess I am troubled to find you so cold in his
LADY TOUCH. His defence! Bless me, would you have me defend an ill thing?
LORD TOUCH. You believe it, then?