SURFACE. Nay but Maria do not leave me with a Frown--by all that's
honest, I swear----Gad's Life here's Lady Teazle--you must not--
no you shall--for tho' I have the greatest Regard for Lady Teazle----

MARIA. Lady Teazle!

SURFACE. Yet were Sir Peter to suspect----

[Enter LADY TEAZLE, and comes forward]

LADY TEAZLE. What's this, Pray--do you take her for me!--Child you
are wanted in the next Room.--What's all this, pray--

SURFACE. O the most unlucky circumstance in Nature. Maria has
somehow suspected the tender concern I have for your happiness,
and threaten'd to acquaint Sir Peter with her suspicions--and I was
just endeavouring to reason with her when you came.

LADY TEAZLE. Indeed but you seem'd to adopt--a very tender mode
of reasoning--do you usually argue on your knees?

SURFACE. O she's a Child--and I thought a little Bombast----
but Lady Teazle when are you to give me your judgment on my Library
as you promised----

LADY TEAZLE. No--no I begin to think it would be imprudent--
and you know I admit you as a Lover no farther than Fashion requires.

SURFACE. True--a mere Platonic Cicisbeo, what every London wife