Madam. Ah Madame, il n'y a rien de si naturel.
Lady Fan. Fe, fe, fe! But, oh my Heart! O Jealousy! O Torture! I'm upon the rack. What shall I do? My Lover's lost, I ne'er shall see him mine. [Pausing.]——But I may be reveng'd; and that's the same thing. Ah sweet Revenge! Thou welcome Thought, thou healing Balsam to my wounded Soul! Be but propitious on this one Occasion, I'll place my Heaven in thee, for all my Life to come.
To Woman how indulgent Nature's kind!
No Blast of Fortune long disturbs her Mind:
Compliance to her Fate supports her still;
If Love won't make her happy—Mischief will.
[Exeunt.
[ACT V.]
SCENE, Lady Fancyfull's House.
Enter Lady Fancyfull and Madamoiselle.
Lady Fan. Well, Madamoiselle, did you dog the filthy Things?