Cour. Here's another trick of the devil now; under that window between the hours of eleven and twelve exactly! I am a damned fool, and must go: let me see; suppose I meet with a lusty beating: pish, that's nothing for a man that's in love; or suppose she contrive some way to make a public coxcomb of me, and expose me to the scorn of the world, for an example to all amorous blockheads hereafter? why, if she do, I'll swear I have lain with her; beat her relations, if they pretend to vindicate her; and so there's one love-intrigue pretty well over. [Exit.
Enter Sir Davy Dunce and Vermin.
Sir Dav. Go, get you in to your lady now, and tell her I am coming.
Ver. Her ladyship, right worshipful, is pleased not to be at home.
Sir Dav. How's that? my lady not at home! Run, run in and ask when she went forth, whither she is gone, and who is with her; run and ask, Vermin.
Ver. She went out in her chair presently after you this afternoon.
Sir Dav. Then I may be a cuckold still for aught I know: what will become of me? I have surely lost, and ne'er shall find her more; she promised me strictly to stay at home till I came back again; for aught I know she may be up three pair of stairs in the Temple now.
Ver. Is her ladyship in law then, sir?
Sir Dav. Or it may be taking the air as far as Knightsbridge, with some smooth-faced rogue or another. 'Tis a damned house, that Swan: that Swan at Knightsbridge is a confounded house, Vermin.