Dorm. You sure! you have wondrous Skill indeed in the Humours of Men: how came you to be so well acquainted with them? you scarce ever saw any but Don Marcel, and him too but thro a Grate or Window, or at Church; and yet you are sure. I am a little the elder of the two, and have manag’d as many Intrigues of this kind as any Woman, and never found a constant just Man, as they say, of a thousand; and yet you are sure.
Clar. Why, is it possible Marcel should be false?
Dorm. Marcel! No, no, Sweet-heart, he is that Man of a thousand.
Clar. But if he should, you have undone me, by telling me so many pretty things of him.
Dorm. Still you question my Ability, which by no means I can indure; get you in I say.
Clar. Do not speak so loud, you will wake my Mother.
Dorm. At your Instructions again; do you question my Conduct and Management of this Affair? Go watch for him your self: I’ll have no more to do with you back nor edge. [Offers to go.
Clar. Will you be so barbarous to leave me to my self, after having made it your Business this three Months to sollicit a Heart which was but too ready to yield before; after having sworn to me how honourable all his Intents were; nay, made me write to him to come to night? And now when I have done this, and am all trembling with fear and shame (and yet an infinite Desire to see him too) [Sighs] thou wilt abandon me: go, when such as you oblige, ’tis but to be insolent with the more freedom.
Dorm. What, you are angry I’ll warrant. [Smiles.
Clar. I will punish my self to pay thee back, and will not see Marcel.