Vizard. Certainly. Most women magnify their modesty, for the same reason that cowards boast their courage—because they have least on't. Come, come, Sir Harry, when you make your next assault, encourage your spirits with brisk Burgundy: if you succeed, 'tis well; if not, you have a fair excuse for your rudeness. I'll go in, and make your peace for what's past. Oh, I had almost forgot——Colonel Standard wants to speak with you about some business.
Sir H. I'll wait upon him presently; d'ye know where he may be found?
Vizard. In the piazza of Covent Garden, about an hour hence, I promised to see him: and there you may meet him—to have your throat cut. [Aside.] I'll go in and intercede for you.
Sir H. But no foul play with the lady, Vizard. [Exit.
Vizard. No fair play, I can assure you. [Exit.
SCENE III.
The Street before Lady Lurewell's Lodgings.
Clincher Senior, and Lurewell, coquetting in the Balcony.—Enter Standard.
Colonel S. How weak is reason in disputes of love! I've heard her falsehood with such pressing proofs, that I no longer should distrust it. Yet still my love would baffle demonstration, and make impossibilities seem probable. [Looks up.] Ha! That fool too! What, stoop so low as that animal?—'Tis true, women once fallen, like cowards in despair, will stick at nothing; there's no medium in their actions. They must be bright as angels, or black as fiends. But now for my revenge; I'll kick her cully before her face, call her whore, curse the whole sex, and leave her. [Goes in.
SCENE IV.
A Dining Room.
Enter Lady Lurewell and Clincher Senior.