Sig Sig. How, Sir, your Lovers! we are none of those, Sir, we are Englishmen.
Gal. You mistake, Sir Signal, this is Silvianetta.
Sir Sig. and Tick. How! [Aside.
Gal. Here’s another Spark of your acquaintance,—do you know him?
Tick. How, Barberacho! nay, then all will out.—
Gal. Yes, and your Fencing and Civility-Master.
Sir Sig. Ay,—Why, what, was it you that pickt our Pockets then, and cheated us?
Gal. Most damnably,—but since ‘twas for the supply of two fair Ladies, all shall be restor’d again.
Tick. Some comfort that.
Fil. Come, let’s in and forgive all; ‘twas but one Night’s Intrigue, in which all were a little faulty.