Will. All o’er, to be the softest sweetest Creature—
Beau. I mean, do ye know who she is?
Will. Nor care; ’tis the last Question I ever ask a fine Woman.
Beau. And you are sure you are thus well acquainted.
Will. I cannot boast of much acquaintance—but I have pluckt a Rose from her Bosom—or so—and given it her again—we’ve past the hour of the Berjere together, that’s all—
Beau. And do you know—this Lady is my—Wife? [Draw.
Will. Hah! hum, hum, hum, hum— [Turns and sings, sees La Nuche, and returns quick with an uneasy Grimace.
Beau. Did you not hear me? Draw.
Will. Draw, Sir—what on my Friend?
Beau. On your Cuckold, Sir, for so you’ve doubly made me: Draw, or I’ll kill thee— [Passes at him, he fences with his Hat, La Nu. holds Beau.