LORD TOUCH. Astonishment binds up my rage! Villainy upon villainy!
Heavens, what a long track of dark deceit has this discovered! I am confounded when I look back, and want a clue to guide me through the various mazes of unheard-of treachery. My wife! d.a.m.nation! My h.e.l.l!
CYNT. My lord, have patience, and be sensible how great our happiness is, that this discovery was not made too late.
LORD TOUCH. I thank you, yet it may be still too late, if we don"t presently prevent the execution of their plots;--ha, I"ll do"t. Where"s Mellefont, my poor injured nephew? How shall I make him ample satisfaction?
CYNT. I dare answer for him.
LORD TOUCH. I do him fresh wrong to question his forgiveness; for I know him to be all goodness. Yet my wife! d.a.m.n her:--she"ll think to meet him in that dressing-room. Was"t not so? And Maskwell will expect you in the chaplain"s chamber. For once, I"ll add my plot too:--let us haste to find out, and inform my nephew; and do you, quickly as you can, bring all the company into this gallery. I"ll expose the strumpet, and the villain.
SCENE XX.
LORD FROTH _and_ SIR PAUL.
LORD FROTH. By heavens, I have slept an age. Sir Paul, what o"clock is"t? Past eight, on my conscience; my lady"s is the most inviting couch, and a slumber there is the prettiest amus.e.m.e.nt! But where"s all the company?
SIR PAUL. The company, gads-bud, I don"t know, my lord, but here"s the strangest revolution, all turned topsy turvy; as I hope for providence.
LORD FROTH. O heavens, what"s the matter? Where"s my wife?
SIR PAUL. All turned topsy turvy as sure as a gun.
LORD FROTH. How do you mean? My wife?
SIR PAUL. The strangest posture of affairs!
LORD FROTH. What, my wife?
SIR PAUL. No, no, I mean the family. Your lady"s affairs may be in a very good posture; I saw her go into the garden with Mr. Brisk.
LORD FROTH. How? Where, when, what to do?
SIR PAUL. I suppose they have been laying their heads together.
LORD FROTH. How?
SIR PAUL. Nay, only about poetry, I suppose, my lord; making couplets.
LORD FROTH. Couplets.
SIR PAUL. Oh, here they come.
SCENE XXI.
[_To them_] LADY FROTH, BRISK.
BRISK. My lord, your humble servant; Sir Paul, yours,--the finest night!
LADY FROTH. My dear, Mr. Brisk and I have been star-gazing, I don"t know how long.
SIR PAUL. Does it not tire your ladyship? Are not you weary with looking up?
LADY FROTH. Oh, no, I love it violently. My dear, you"re melancholy.
LORD FROTH. No, my dear; I"m but just awake.
LADY FROTH. Snuff some of my spirit of hartshorn.
LORD FROTH. I"ve some of my own, thank you, dear.
LADY FROTH. Well, I swear, Mr. Brisk, you understood astronomy like an old Egyptian.
BRISK. Not comparably to your ladyship; you are the very Cynthia of the skies, and queen of stars.
LADY FROTH. That"s because I have no light but what"s by reflection from you, who are the sun.
BRISK. Madam, you have eclipsed me quite, let me perish. I can"t answer that.
LADY FROTH. No matter. Hark "ee, shall you and I make an almanac together?
BRISK. With all my soul. Your ladyship has made me the man in"t already, I"m so full of the wounds which you have given.
LADY FROTH. O finely taken! I swear now you are even with me. O Parna.s.sus, you have an infinite deal of wit.
SIR PAUL. So he has, gads-bud, and so has your ladyship.
SCENE XXII.
[_To them_] LADY PLYANT, CARELESS, CYNTHIA.
LADY PLYANT. You tell me most surprising things; bless me, who would ever trust a man? Oh my heart aches for fear they should be all deceitful alike.
CARE. You need not fear, madam, you have charms to fix inconstancy itself.
LADY PLYANT. O dear, you make me blush.
LORD FROTH. Come, my dear, shall we take leave of my lord and lady?
CYNT. They"ll wait upon your lordship presently.