Lady Brute. Whatever they are, I won't stay here a Moment longer.
Const. Whither will you go?
Lady Brute. Home, as if the Devil were in me. Lord, where's this Belinda now?
Enter Belinda and Heartfree.
O! 'tis well you are come: I'm so frightened, my Hair stands an end. Let's be gone, for Heaven's sake!
Bel. Lord, what's the matter?
Lady Brute. The Devil's the Matter; we are discovered. Here's a couple of Women have done the most impertinent thing. Away, away, away, away, away.
[Exit running.
Re-enter Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
Lady Fan. Well, Madamoiselle, 'tis a prodigious thing how Women can suffer filthy Fellows to grow so familiar with 'em.