Good sensible people these!—Hey, Jack!
Here, Landlord, one word with you.—My servant, I find, has acquainted you with the reason of my coming this way.—An unhappy affair, Landlord! —A very unhappy affair!—But never was there a more virtuous woman.
So, Sir, she seems to be. A thousand pities her ladyship has such ways— and to so good-humoured a gentleman as you seem to be, Sir.
Mother-spoilt, Landlord!—Mother-spoilt!—that's the thing!—But [sighing] I must make the best of it. What I want you to do for me is to lend me a great-coat.—I care not what it is. If my spouse should see me at a distance, she would make it very difficult for me to get at her speech. A great-coat with a cape, if you have one. I must come upon her before she is aware.
I am afraid, Sir, I have none fit for such a gentleman as you.
O, any thing will do!—The worse the better.
Exit Landlord.—Re-enter with two great-coats.
Ay, Landlord, this will be best; for I can button the cape over the lower part of my face. Don't I look devilishly down and concerned, Landlord?
I never saw a gentleman with a better-natured look.—'Tis pity you should have such trials, Sir.
I must be very unhappy, no doubt of it, Landlord.—And yet I am a little pleased, you must needs think, that I have found her out before any great inconvenience has arisen to her. However, if I cannot break her of these freaks, she'll break my heart; for I do love her with all her failings.