Which you denied, tho I beheld your Perjury.
This little Generosity of thine has render’d back my Heart. [Walks away.
Will. [So, you have made sweet work here], my little mischief;
Look your Lady be kind and good-natur’d now, or
I shall have but a cursed Bargain on’t. [Ang. turns towards them.
—The Rogue’s bred up to Mischief,
Art thou so great a Fool to credit him?
Ang. Yes, I do; and you in vain impose upon me.
—Come hither, Boy—Is not this he you speak of?
Hell. I think—it is; I cannot swear, but I vow he has just such another lying Lover’s look. [Hell. looks in his Face, he gazes on her.