Mrs. Clack. There you’ve dasht all again.
Wild. I’m resolv’d to keep my Credit with her—
Here’s my Hand;
This Night, Charlot, I’ll let you see the Writings.
—But how? a Pox on him that knows for Thomas. [Aside.
Charl. Hah! that Hand without the Ring! Nay, never study for a handsom Lye.
Wild. Ring? Oh, ay, I left it in my Dressing-room this Morning.
Charl. See how thou hast inur’d thy Tongue to falshood!
Did you not send it to a certain Creature
They call Diana,
From off that Hand that plighted Faith to me?
Wild. By Heaven, ‘tis Witchcraft all; Unless this Villain Foppington betray me. Those sort of Rascals would do any thing For ready Meat and Wine—I’ll kill the Fool—hah, here! [Turns quick, and sees him behind him.
Fop. Here, Lord! Lord! Where were thy Eyes, dear Wilding?
Wild. Where they have spy’d a Rascal. Where was this Property conceal’d?
Fop. Conceal’d! What dost thou mean, dear Tom? Why, I stood as plain as the Nose on thy Face, mun.
Wild. But ‘tis the ungrateful Quality of all your sort to make such
base returns.
How got this Rogue Admittance, and when in,
The Impudence to tell his treacherous Lyes?