SIR PETER. Stay—hold—a thought has struck me—you shall be at home.
SURFACE. Well—well—let him up.—
[Exit SERVANT.]
He'll interrupt Sir Peter, however. [Aside.]
SIR PETER. Now, my good Friend—oblige me I Intreat you—before Charles comes—let me conceal myself somewhere—Then do you tax him on the Point we have been talking on—and his answers may satisfy me at once.—
SURFACE. O Fie—Sir Peter—would you have ME join in so mean a Trick? to trepan my Brother too?
SIR PETER. Nay you tell me you are SURE He is innocent—if so you do him the greatest service in giving him an opportunity to clear himself—and—you will set my Heart at rest—come you shall not refuse me—here behind this Screen will be—hey! what the Devil—there seems to be one listener here already—I'll swear I saw a Petticoat.—
SURFACE. Ha! ha! ha! Well this is ridiculous enough—I'll tell you, Sir Peter—tho' I hold a man of Intrigue to be a most despicable Character—yet you know it doesn't follow that a man is to be an absolute Joseph either—hark'ee—'tis a little French Milliner—a silly Rogue that plagues me—and having some character, on your coming she ran behind the Screen.—
SIR PETER. Ah a Rogue—but 'egad she has overheard all I have been saying of my Wife.
SURFACE. O 'twill never go any farther, you may depend on't.