Enter as from Church, L. Galliard, Closet, and Footman: Wilding passes carelessly by her, Sir Charles Meriwill following, wrapt up in his Cloke.
Sir Anth. Who’s here? Charles muffled in a Cloke peering after a
Woman?
My own Boy to a Hair! She’s handsom too. I’ll step aside; for I must see
the meaning on’t.
[Goes aside.
L. Gal. Bless me! how unconcern’d he pass’d!
Clos. He bow’d low, Madam.
L. Gal. But ‘twas in such a fashion, as exprest Indifferency, much worse than Hate from Wilding.
Clos. Your Ladyship has us’d him ill of late; yet if your Ladyship please, I’ll call him back.
L. Gal. I’ll die first—Hah, he’s going! Yet now I think on’t I have a
Toy of his, which to express my scorn, I’ll give him back now—this Ring.
Clos. Shall I carry it, Madam?
L. Gal. You’ll not express Disdain enough in the Delivery; and you may call him back.
[Clos. goes to Wild.