Herald. Unmannerly wretches!
[Scornfully, and exit.
Cantwell. Oh, the wickedness of this wicked world!
[Exit after her.
Loveyet. Why, this is just as it should be now;—I think business goes on finely.
Maria. You will not think so, much longer.
[Aside.
Loveyet. By my body, I am as merry as a cricket;—an't you, Maria? For my part, I feel so well pleased, I could find in my heart to—to do as you have done;—[To Charles.] cou'dn't you, my love?
[To Maria.
Maria. Yes, sir.