Isa. Come, you are such a jealous coxcomb: I warrant you suspect there's some amour between 'em; there can be nothing in't, it is so open: Pray observe.
Burr. But how come you so officious, madam? you, that ere now had a design upon Sir Timorous for yourself?
Isa. I thought you had a better opinion of my wit, than to think I was in earnest. My cousin may do what she pleases, but he shall never pin himself upon me, assure him.
Const. to Fail. Sir Timorous little knows how dangerous a person he has employed in making love.—[Aloud.
Burr. How's this! Pray, my lady Constance, what's the meaning of that you say to Failer?
Fail. What luck was this, that he should overhear you! Pax on't!
Const. Mr Burr, I owe you not that satisfaction; what you have heard you may interpret as you please.
Tim. The rascal has betrayed me.
Isa. In earnest, sir, I do not like it.
Fail. Dear Mr Burr, be pacified; you are a person I have an honour for; and this change of affairs shall not be the worse for you, egad, sir.