Bel. You advise well; but where shall it be?
Lady Brute. In Spring Garden. But they shan't know their Women, till their Women pull off their Masks; for a Surprize is the most agreeable thing in the World: And I find myself in a very good Humour, ready to do 'em any good turn I can think on.
Bel. Then pray write 'em the necessary Billet, without farther delay.
Lady Brute. Let's go into your Chamber, then, and whilst you say your Prayers I'll do it, Child.
[Exeunt.
[ACT IV.]
SCENE, Covent Garden.
Enter Lord Rake, Sir John, &c. with Swords drawn.
Lord Rake. Is the Dog dead?