Quack. Did she not send you a letter by him?
Horn. Yes; but that's a riddle I have not yet solved. Allow the poor creature to be willing, she is silly too, and he keeps her up so close—
Quack. Yes, so close, that he makes her but the more willing, and adds but revenge to her love; which two, when met, seldom fail of satisfying each other one way or other.
Horn. What! here's the man we are talking of, I think.
Enter Pinchwife, leading in his Wife masked, muffled, and in her Sister's gown.
Pshaw!
Quack. Bringing his wife to you is the next thing to bringing a love-letter from her.
Horn. What means this?
Pinch. The last time, you know, sir, I brought you a love-letter; now, you see, a mistress; I think you'll say I am a civil man to you.
Horn. Ay, the devil take me, will I say thou art the civilest man I ever met with; and I have known some. I fancy I understand thee now better than I did the letter. But, hark thee, in thy ear—