Nov. How! how! well, well, and so she has to me; look you there—[They deliver to each other their letters.
L. Plau. What's here?
Nov. How's this? [Reads out.]—"My dear lord,—You'll excuse me for breaking my word with you, since 'twas to oblige, not offend you; for I am only gone abroad but to disappoint Novel, and meet you in the drawing-room; where I expect you with as much impatience as when I used to suffer Novel's visits—the most impertinent fop that ever affected the name of a wit, therefore not capable, I hope, to give you jealousy; for, for your sake alone, you saw I renounced an old lover, and will do all the world. Burn the letter, but lay up the kindness of it in your heart, with your—Olivia." Very fine! but pray let's see mine.
L. Plau. I understand it not; but sure she cannot think so of me.
Nov. [Reads the other letter.] Hum! ha!—"meet—for your sake"—hum—"quitted an old lover—world—burn—in your heart—with your—Olivia." Just the same, the names only altered.
L. Plau. Surely there must be some mistake, or somebody has abused her and us.
Nov. Yes, you are abused, no doubt on't, my lord; but I'll to Whitehall, and see.
L. Plau. And I, where I shall find you are abused.
Nov. Where, if it be so, for our comfort, we cannot fail of meeting with fellow-sufferers enough; for, as Freeman said of another, she stands in the drawing room, like the glass, ready for all comers, to set their gallantry by her: and, like the glass too, lets no man go from her unsatisfied with himself. [Exeunt.