Wor. Platoon! how's that?
Plume. I'll kneel, stoop, and stand, 'faith: most ladies are gained by platooning.
Wor. Here they come; I must leave you.
[Exit.
Plume. So! now must I look as sober and demure as a whore at a christening.
Enter Brazen and Melinda.
Brazen. Who's that, madam?
Mel. A brother officer of yours, I suppose, sir.
Brazen. Ay—my dear!
[To Plume.