Flaunt. To meet a Rogue!—
Sir Tim. And I to meet a Whore, and now we are well met.
Flaunt. How, Sir?
Sir Tim. Nay, never be surpriz’d, for your Intrigues are discover’d, the good Matron of the House (against her Will) has done me that kindness—you know how to live without your Keeper, and so I’ll leave you.
Flaunt. You’re too serviceable a Fool to be lost so. [Aside.
Bel. Who knows this bold Intruder?
Char. How, Sir, am I a Stranger to you? But I shou’d wonder at it, since all your last Night’s Actions betray’d a strange depravity of Sense.—Sir, I have sought you long, and wish I had not found you yet, since both the Place and Company declare, how grossly you’ve dissembled Virtue all this while.
Bel. Take hence that prating Boy.
Char. How, Sir—You are my elder Brother, yet I may be allow’d to do the Business that I came for, and from my Uncle to demand your Wife.
Bel. You may return, and tell him that she’s dead.