Pinch. Monstrous! [Aside.
Spark. Harcourt, how dost thou like her, faith? Nay, dear, do not look down; I should hate to have a wife of mine out of countenance at anything.
Pinch. Wonderful! [Aside.
Spark. Tell me, I say, Harcourt, how dost thou like her? Thou hast stared upon her enough, to resolve me.
Har. So infinitely well, that I could wish I had a mistress too, that might differ from her in nothing but her love and engagement to you.
Alith. Sir, Master Sparkish has often told me that his acquaintance were all wits and raillieurs, and now I find it.
Spark. No, by the universe, madam, he does not rally now; you may believe him. I do assure you, he is the honestest, worthiest, true-hearted gentlemen—a man of such perfect honour, he would say nothing to a lady he does not mean.
Pinch. Praising another man to his mistress! [Aside.
Har. Sir, you are so beyond expectation obliging, that—