Lor. She is of a middle stature, dark-coloured hair, the most bewitching leer with her eyes, the most roguish cast! her cheeks are dimpled when she smiles, and her smiles would tempt an hermit.
Gom. [Aside.] I am dead, I am buried, I am damned.—Go on, colonel; have you no other marks of her?
Lor. Thou hast all her marks; but she has a husband, a jealous, covetous, old hunks: Speak! canst thou tell me news of her?
Gom. Yes; this news, colonel, that you have seen your last of her.
Lor. If thou help'st me not to the knowledge of her, thou art a circumcised Jew.
Gom. Circumcise me no more than I circumcise you, colonel Hernando: Once more, you have seen your last of her.
Lor. [Aside.] I am glad he knows me only by that name of Hernando, by which I went at Barcelona; now he can tell no tales of me to my father.—[To him.] Come, thou wer't ever good-natured, when thou couldst get by it—Look here, rogue; 'tis of the right damning colour: Thou art not proof against gold, sure!—Do not I know thee for a covetous—
Gom. Jealous old hunks? those were the marks of your mistress's husband, as I remember, colonel.
Lor. Oh the devil! What a rogue in understanding was I, not to find him out sooner![Aside.
Gom. Do, do, look sillily, good colonel; 'tis a decent melancholy after an absolute defeat.