Chapter 6

A chamber in lord BELMOUR's house.

Lady BELMOUR at her toilet, her Waiting-woman attending.

Lady BELMOUR. How pale I look!

ATTENDANT. My lady rose too early.

Lady BELMOUR. Why, what's the time?

ATTENDANT. 'Tis past the noon, but it is scarce four hours Since you lay down to rest. [A tap at the door]

Lady BELMOUR. Who can this be? [The ATTENDANT goes to the door and returns.]

ATTENDANT. 'Tis Mrs. Andrews, madam, in her chariot.

Lady BELMOUR. What, at this hour?--and yet in truth no wonder, That thus her rest's disturb'd. It would require The wealth of India to support her losses. And were she now possess'd of all its stores, I and my friends cou'd rid her of the burthen. Perhaps, she comes to pay me the five hundred I won of her, when last we play'd together? Or with the flattering hopes to make reprisals? So I may double it before we part: For she's unskill'd enough to lose a million. Away!--I'll wait her in the damask chamber. [They go off different ways.]