Ela. Go, peevish Fool— Whose Jealousy believes me given to change, Let thy own Torments be my just Revenge.
[Exit.
The End of the First Act.
ACT II.
SCENE I. A Chamber in the Doctor’s House.
An Antick Dance.
After the Musick has plaid, enter Elaria; to her Bellemante.
Ela. Heavens, Bellemante! Where have you been?
Bell. Fatigu’d with the most disagreeable Affair, for a Person of my Humour, in the World. Oh, how I hate Business, which I do no more mind, than a Spark does the Sermon, who is ogling his Mistress at Church all the while: I have been ruffling over twenty Reams of Paper for my Uncle’s Writings.
Enter Scaramouch.