Moth. One had need of a great deal, I am sure, to hear you talk at this rate! Is this your way of making my poor Myrtilla easy?
Count Bas. Death! I shall do it still, if the woman will but let me speak——
Moth. Had not you a letter from her this morning?
Count Bas. I have it here in my pocket—this is it.
[Shews it, and puts it up again.
Moth. Ay, but I don't find you have made any answer to it.
Count Bas. How the devil can I, if you won't hear me!
Moth. What! hear you talk of another woman?
Count Bas. O lud! O lud! I tell you, I'll make her fortune——'Ounds! I'll marry her.
Moth. A likely matter! if you would not do it when she was a maid, your stomach is not so sharp set now, I presume.