L. Dunce. Yes, you had best break it open, you had so; 'tis like the rest of your discretion.
Sir Dav. Lady, if I have an enemy, it is best for me to know what mischief he intends me; therefore, with your leave, I will break it open.
L. Dunce. Do, do, to have him believe that I was pleased enough with it to do it myself: if you have the spirit of a gentleman in you, carry it back, and dash it, as it is, in the face of that audacious fellow.
Sir Jol. What can be the meaning of this now?
Sir Dav. A gentleman! yes, madam, I am a gentleman, and the world shall find that I am a gentleman.—I have certainly the best woman in the world. [Aside.
L. Dunce. What do you think must be the end of all this? I have no refuge in the world but your kindness: had I a jealous husband now, how miserable must my life be!
Sir Jol. Ah, rogue's nose! ah, devil! ah, toad! cunning thief, wheedling slut, I'll bite her by and by.
Sir Dav. Poor fool! No, dear, I am not jealous, nor never will be jealous of thee; do what thou wilt, thou shalt not make me jealous: I love thee too well to suspect thee.
L. Dunce. Ah, but how long will you do so?
Sir Dav. How long? as long as I live, I warrant thee, I—don't talk to a body so: I cannot hold if thou dost, my eyes will run over, poor fool! poor birdsnies! poor lambkin!