Sir W. Gadzooks! Here’s a discovery!
Helen. A discovery, sir? (Helen looks at the door)
Sir W. Ay, a discovery indeed!—Ods life! I’m in a furious passion!
Helen. Dear sir, not with me I hope—
Lady W. Let me entreat you sir Willoughby to compose yourself; recollect that anger is very apt to bring on the gout.
Sir W. Damn the gout, I must be in a passion—my—life—harkye, daughter—
Helen. They know he’s here! so I may as well own it at once.
Lady W. Pray compose yourself, remember we have no proof.
Sir W. Why that’s true—that is remarkably true—I must compose myself—I will—I do—I am composed—and now let me open the affair with coolness and deliberation! Daughter, come hither.
Helen. Yes, sir—now for it!—