Gay. Very excellent Stuff, if you have but the Grace to improve it.
Bel. You banter me—but in plain English, tell me, What made you here thus early, Entring yon House with such Authority?
Gay. Why, your Mistress Leticia, your contracted Wife, is this Morning to be married to old Sir Feeble Fainwou’d, induc’d to’t I suppose by the great Jointure he makes her, and the improbability of your ever gaining your Pardon for your high Duel—Do I speak English now, Sir?
Bel. Too well, would I had never heard thee.
Gay. Now I being the Confident in your Amours, the Jack-go-between— the civil Pimp or so—you left her in charge with me at your Departure.
Bel. I did so.
Gay. I saw her every day; and every day she paid the Tribute of a shower of Tears, to the dear Lord of all her Vows, young Bellmour: Till faith at last, for Reasons manifold, I slackt my daily Visits.
Bel. And left her to Temptation—was that well done?
Gay. Now must I afflict you and my self with a long tale of Causes why; Or be charg’d with want of Friendship.
Bel. You will do well to clear that Point to me.