Enter Page with a Table-Book.
Bel. What’s this?
Page. The Answer of a Letter, Sir, you sent the divine Celinda; for so it was directed.
Bel.—Hah—Celinda—in my Croud of Thoughts
I had forgot I sent—come nearer, Boy—
What did she say to thee?—Did she not smile?
And use thee with Contempt and Scorn?—tell me.
Page. How scorn, Sir!
Bel. Or she was angry—call’d me perjur’d Villain, False, and forsworn—nay, tell me truth.
Page. How, Sir?
Bel. Thou dost delay me—say she did, and please me.
Page. Sir!
Bel. Again—tell me, what answer, Rascal, did she send me?