Just then_ Mopsophil enters.
Mop. How! with Child! Out, Villain! was I made a Property?
Scar. Hear me.
Har. Oh, thou Heathen Christian! was not one Woman enough?
Mop. Ay, Sirrah, answer to that.
Scar. I shall be sacrific’d.
Mop. I am resolv’d to marry to morrow—either to the Apothecary or the Farmer, Men I never saw, to be reveng’d on thee, thou termagant Infidel.
Enter the Doctor.
Doct. What Noise, what Out-cry, what Tumult’s this?
Har. Ha, the Doctor!—What shall I do? [Gets to the Door, Scar. pulls her in.