Will. What the Devil have we here? [Aside.
Hunt. [Bezolos mano’s, Seignior], I understand there is a Lady whose Beauty and Proportion can only merit me: I’ll say no more—but shall be grateful to you for your Assistance.
Feth. ’Tis so.
Hunt. The Devil’s in’t if this does not fright ’em from a farther Courtship. [Aside.
Will. Fear nothing, Seignior—Seignior, you may try your Chance, and visit the Ladies. [Talks to Hunt.]
Feth. Why, where the Devil could this Monster conceal himself all this while, that we should neither see nor hear of him?
Blunt. Oh—he lay disguis’d; I have heard of an Army that has done so.
Feth. Pox, no single House cou’d hold him.
Blunt. No—he dispos’d himself in several parcels up and down the Town, here a Leg, and there an Arm; and hearing of this proper Match for him, put himself together to court his fellow Monster.
Feth. Good Lord! I wonder what Religion he’s of.