Enter Bellamy.
Bel. Clear, dost thou say? No, 'tis full of rocks and quicksands: Yet nothing vexes me so much, as that she is in love with such a poor rogue.
Mask. But that she should lodge privately in the same house with us! 'twas oddly contrived of fortune.
Bel. Hang him, rogue! methinks I see him, perching, like an owl, by day, and not daring to flutter out till moonlight. The rascal invents love, and brews his compliments all day, and broaches them at night; just as some of our dry wits do their stories, before they come into company. Well, if I could be revenged on either of them!
Mask. Here she comes again, with Beatrix; but, good sir, moderate your passion.
Enter Theodosia and Beatrix.
Bel. Nay, madam; you are known; and must not pass till I have spoken with you.
[Bel. lifts up Theodosia's veil.
Theo. This rudeness to a person of my quality may cost you dear. Pray, when did I give you encouragement for so much familiarity?
Bel. When you scorned me in the chapel.