Sir H. Know who you are! Why, your daughter there, is Mr. Vizard's—cousin, I suppose. And for you, madam—I suppose your ladyship to be one of those civil, obliging, discreet old gentlewomen, who keep their visiting days for the entertainment of their presenting friends, whom they treat with imperial tea, a private room, and a pack of cards. Now I suppose you do understand me.
Lady D. This is beyond sufferance! But say, thou abusive man, what injury have you ever received from me, or mine, thus to engage you in this scandalous aspersion.
Ang. Yes, sir, what cause, what motives could induce you thus to debase yourself below your rank?
Sir H. Heyday! Now, dear Roxana, and you, my fair Statira, be not so very heroic in your style: Vizard's letter may resolve you, and answer all the impertinent questions you have made me.
Lady D. and Ang. We appeal to that.
Sir H. And I'll stand to't; he read it to me, and the contents were pretty plain, I thought.
Ang. Here, sir, peruse it, and see how much we are injured, and you deceived.
Sir H. [Opening the Letter.] But hold, madam, [To Lady Darling.] before I read I'll make some condition:—Mr. Vizard says here, that I won't scruple thirty or forty pieces. Now, madam, if you have clapped in another cypher to the account, and made it three or four hundred, 'egad I'll not stand to't.
Lady D. The letter, sir, shall answer you.
Sir H. Well then—[Reads.] Out of my earnest inclination to serve your ladyship, and my cousin Angelica—Ay, ay, the very words, I can say it by heart—I have sent Sir Harry Wildair to—What the devil's this?—Sent Sir Harry Wildair to court my cousin—He read to me quite a different thing—He's a gentleman of great parts and fortune—He's a son of a whore, and a rascal—And would make your daughter very happy [Whistles.] in a husband.——[Looks foolish, and hums a Song.]—Oh! poor Sir Harry, what have thy angry stars designed?