Carl. Heaven forbid, madam! What, before marriage?
Dal. [To San.] And what did you?
San. I did enjoy her; so I did: and there I was before you, for a false Conde, as you are.
Carl. Speak for yourself, madam, and clear your reputation from that scandalous companion.
Dal. [With her Fan before her Face.] I must confess the true Conde has enjoyed me; the more my frailty.
Lop. The matter mends on that side.
San. Now, goodman Goose-cap, who's the most a man of honour, he, who has enjoyed a fair lady, or he, who has only licked his lips, and gone without her?
Carl. [Aside.] I see she takes his part; this is all a lie contrived betwixt them.
Enter a Messenger.