Enter Lord, Lady Dupe, Mistress Christian, Rose, and Warner.
Lord. Your promise is admirably made good to me, that Sir John Swallow should be this night married to Mrs Christian; instead of that, he is more deeply engaged than ever with old Moody.
Warn. I cannot help those ebbs and flows of fortune.
L. Dupe. I am sure my niece suffers most in't; he's come off to her with a cold compliment of a mistake in his mistress's virtue, which he has now found out, by your master's folly, to be a plot of yours to separate them.
Chr. To be forsaken, when a woman has given her consent!
Lord. 'Tis the same scorn, as to have a town rendered up, and afterwards slighted.
Rose. You are a sweet youth, sir, to use my lady so, when she depended on you; is this the faith of a valet de chambre? I would be ashamed to be such a dishonour to my profession; it will reflect upon us in time; we shall be ruined by your good example.
Warn. As how, my dear lady embassadress?
Rose. Why, they say the women govern their ladies, and you govern us: So if you play fast and loose, not a gallant will bribe us for our good wills; the gentle guinea will now go to the ordinary, which used as duly to steal into our hands at the stair-foot, as into Mr Doctor's at parting.
Lord. Night's come, and I expect your promise.