Man. How! saved her honour by making her husband believe you were a woman! 'Twas well, but hard enough to do, sure.
Fid. We were interrupted before he could contradict me.
Man. But can't you tell me, d'ye say, what kind of man he was?
Fid. I was so frightened, I confess, I can give no other account of him, but that he was pretty tall, round-faced, and one, I'm sure, I ne'er had seen before.
Man. But she, you say, made you swear to return to-night?
Fid. But I have since sworn, never to go near her again; for the husband would murder me, or worse, if he caught me again.
Man. No, I will go with you, and defend you to-night, and then I'll swear, too, never to go near her again.
Fid. Nay, indeed, sir, I will not go, to be accessory to your death too. Besides, what should you go again, sir, for?
Man. No disputing, or advice, sir, you have reason to know I am unalterable. Go therefore presently, and write her a note, to inquire if her assignation with you holds; and if not to be at her own house, where else; and be importunate to gain admittance to her to-night. Let your messenger, ere he deliver your letter, inquire first if her husband be gone out. Go, 'tis now almost six of the clock; I expect you back here before seven, with leave to see her then. Go, do this dextrously, and expect the performance of my last night's promise, never to part with you.