POM. Insults, madam! They are the highest compliment you have left it in our power to pay you.
WOFF. Indeed! Oh, I take your meaning. To be your mistress could be but a temporary disgrace; to be your wife might be a lasting discredit. Now sir, having played your rival’s game——
POM. Ah!
WOFF. And exposed your own hand, do something to recover the reputation of a man of the world. Leave the field before Mr. Vane can enjoy your discomfiture, for here he comes.
POM. I leave you, madam, but remember, my discomfiture is neither your triumph, nor your swain’s.
[Exit L.
WOFF. I do enjoy putting down these irresistibles.
[Enter Vane, L.]
At last! I have been here so long.