Lio. Come, defend me!
(Nancy enters from inn.)
Nan. What's occur'd?
Lio. Betsy, too?
Plun. Betsy, too.
Nan. Don't be afraid, my lady.
Lio. Lady? Now all is clear.
All her charm, her kindly manner
Were caprice and cruel sport
To amuse a lady's leisure hour—
O, just heaven, how harsh thou art.
Lady H. Pity for this fellow asking
His free pardon let me crave;
In his brain is madness masking,
That is why his fancies rave.
Cho. (starting back). Madness? Madness?
Lio. O, what falseness!