Sir John. Zoons, what do you both mean?
[Heart. and Bel. walk chasing about.
Rasor. [Aside.] Here is so much Sport going to be spoil'd, it makes me ready to weep again. A Pox o' this impertinent Lady Fancyfull, and her Plots, and her French-woman too; she's a whimsical, ill-natur'd Bitch, and when I have got my Bones broke in her Service, 'tis ten to one but my Recompence is a Clap; I hear them tittering without still. I'cod, I'll e'en go lug them both in by the Ears, and discover the Plot, to secure my Pardon.
[Exit Rasor.
Const. Pr'ythee, explain, Heartfree.
Heart. A fair Deliverance; thank my Stars and my Friend.
Bel. 'Tis well it went no farther; a base Fellow!
Lady Brute. What can be the meaning of all this?
Bel. What's his Meaning, I don't know; but mine is, that if I had married him——I had had no Husband.