Oliv. As well as I can act it.
Enter Welborn, habited as last.
That all Mankind are damn’d, I’m positive; at least all Lovers are.
Wel. What have we here? the Spark that rally’d me about a Woman at the Ball to night? Who is it, Sir, you curse so heartily.
Oliv. Ha, how beautiful he is—how many Charms dwell in that lovely Face— Aside.
’Tis you I curse.
Wel. Gad, I thank you for that, you were kinder to night, when you told me of a fine Woman that was in love with me.
Oliv. Why, what have you to do with Woman-kind?
Wel. A pretty civil Question; has the Lady that sent you a mind to be inform’d.
Oliv. Or if she had, you’re not at leisure now, you are taken up, Sir, with another Beauty. Did not you swear, never to speak to Woman-kind, till I had brought her, I told you, sigh’d for you?