Lady L. Sir, had not I owned my fond, foolish passion, I should not have been subject to such unjust suspicions: but it is an ungrateful return. [Weeping.
Colonel S. Now, where are all my firm resolves? I hope, madam, you'll pardon me, since jealousy, that magnified my suspicion, is as much the effect of love, as my easiness in being satisfied.
Lady L. Easiness in being satisfied! No, no, sir; cherish your suspicions, and feed upon your jealousy: 'tis fit meat for your squeamish stomach.
| With me all women should this rule pursue: |
| Who think us false, should never find us true. |
| [Exit in a Rage. |
Enter Clincher Senior in Tom Errand's Clothes.
Clinch. sen. Well, intriguing is the prettiest, pleasantest thing for a man of my parts.—How shall we laugh at the husband, when he is gone?—How sillily he looks! He's in labour of horns already.—To make a colonel a cuckold! 'Twill be rare news for the alderman.
Colonel S. All this Sir Harry has occasioned; but he's brave, and will afford me a just revenge.—Oh, this is the porter I sent the challenge by——Well sir, have you found him?
Clinch. sen. What the devil does he mean now?
Colonel S. Have you given Sir Harry the note, fellow?
Clinch. sen. The note! what note?