Somewhat in her behaviour that would warrant
Such outrage of abuse.--Is this your hand? [Shewing her the letter.]

Mrs. ANDREWS. Let me see it. [He gives her the letter,
which she reads hastily, then tears it to pieces.]
Now, let me tell you, sir,
'Twas a base action to unclose this letter,
Or any other not to you address'd.
What a curs'd hellish plot hath here been schem'd
Against my peace! oh! oh! Maria--oh! [She faints upon the sofa.]

Enter MARIA.

MARIA. Alas! alas! my poor lady! good sir!
What hath she done to merit this unkindness?
You've always been the tenderest of husbands.

ANDREWS. Forbear this idle talk; attend your mistress.
[Aside] What fool was I to trust her with this letter!
Yet, why was she so hasty to destroy it?
Heav'n! in what deep perplexities I'm plung'd! [He goes off.]

Mrs. ANDREWS. What! gone! Leave me in the sad seeming state
In which I call myself!--and unconcern'd!
Would I had died before I wrote that letter!
Desperate act! I knew not what I did.

MARIA. Madam, despair not; this will soon blow over,
You're young and beauteous; he, in his decline.
You can command him, as best suits your pleasure;