Prince. Property—Ha—A loath’d convenient Tool—A Woman’s Implement—’Sdeath! she that off—Loose to the nasty Love of every Fool, that will be flatter’d, cozen’d, jilted, cuckolded—No more—I will, unseen, convey my self into the Closet in my Dressing-Room; ’tis near her Bed—and if I find her wanton—
Geo. If you find her—the Youth is waiting now that shall convince you.
Prince. Where?—Oh, set the happy Slave but in my View, and—
Geo. No, faith, Sir, be convinc’d before you strike, for fear she jilt you out of Sense and Reason—
Prince. Come to my Closet, from thence we may observe all that passes in her Chamber; from whence I’ll break upon the perjur’d Fair, like Thunder from a Cloud, and more destructive.
Exeunt.
[Scene III.] A Chamber.
Draws and discovers Mirtilla and Manage.
Mir. Is the Prince gone?
Man. Yes, Madam.