Phæd. O apostate to thy love! O perjured villain!—
Enter Bromia.
What, are you here, Bromia? I was telling him his own: I was giving him a rattle for his treacheries to you, his love: You see I can be a friend, upon occasion.
Brom. Ay, chicken, I never doubted of thy kindness; but, for this fugitive—this rebel—this miscreant——
Sos. A kind welcome, to an absent lover, as I have been.
Brom. Ay; and a kind greeting you gave me, at your return; when you used me so barbarously this morning.
Sos. The t'other Sosia has been with her too; and has used her barbarously: barbarously,—that is to say, uncivilly: and uncivilly,—I am afraid that means too civilly. [Aside.
Phæd. You had best deny you were here this morning! And by the same token——
Sos. Nay, no more tokens, for Heaven's sake, dear Phædra.—Now must I ponder with myself a little, whether it be better for me to have been here, or not to have been here, this morning. [Aside.