_Rasor._ Come, kiss me, then. [_Clapping his Hands behind him._ _Madam._ Nay, pridee tell me. _Rasor._ Good by t' ye. [_Going._ _Madam._ Hold, hold: I will kiss dee. [_Kissing him._ _Rasor._ So, that's civil: Why, now, my pretty Poll, my Goldfinch, my little Waterwagtail----you must know, that----Come, kiss me again. _Madam._ I won't kiss de no more. _Rasor._ Good by t' ye. [_Going._ Madam. _Doucement! ~Derre~: es tu content?_ [_Kissing him._ _Rasor._ So: Now I'll tell thee all. Why, the News is, That Cuckoldom in Folio is newly printed; and Matrimony in Quarto is just going into the Press. Will you buy any Books, _Madamoiselle_? Madam. _Tu parle comme un Libraire_; de Devil no understand dee. _Rasor._ Why, then, that I may make myself intelligible to a Waiting-Woman, I'll speak like a Valet de Chambre. My Lady has cuckolded my Master. Madam. _Bon._ _Rasor._ Which we take very ill from her Hands, I can tell her that. We can't yet prove Matter of Fact upon her. Madam. _N'importe._ _Rasor._ But we can prove, that Matter of Fact had like to have been upon her. Madam. _Ouy da._ _Rasor._ For we have such bloody Circumstances-- Madam. Sans doute. _Rasor._ That any Man of Parts may draw tickling Conclusions from 'em. Madam. _Fort bien._ _Rasor._ We found a couple of tight, well-built Gentlemen stufft into her Ladyship's Closet. Madam. _Le Diable!_ _Rasor._ And I, in my particular Person, have discovered a most damnable Plot, how to persuade my poor Master, that all this Hide and Seek, this _Will_ in the _Whisp_, has no other meaning than a Christian Marriage for sweet Mrs. _Belinda_. Madam. _Une Mariage?----Ah les Droles!_ _Rasor._ Don't you interrupt me, Hussy; 'tis agreed, I say. And my innocent Lady, to wriggle herself out at the Back-door of the Business, turns Marriage-Bawd to her Niece, and resolves to deliver up her fair Body to be tumbled and mumbled by that young liquorish Whipster, _Heartfree_. Now are you satisfy'd? _Madam._ No. _Rasor._ Right Woman; always gaping for more. _Madam._ Dis be all, den, dat dou know? _Rasor._ All? Aye, and a great deal, too, I think. _Madam._ Dou be Fool, dou know noting. _Ecoute, mon pauvre_ Rasor. Dou sees des two Eyes?--Des two Eyes have see de Devil. _Rasor._ The Woman's mad. _Madam._ In _Spring-Garden_, dat Rogue _Constant_ meet dy Lady. Rasor. _Bon._ _Madam._----I'll tell dee no more. _Rasor._ Nay, pr'ythee, my Swan. _Madam._ Come, kiss me den. [_Clapping her Hands behind her as he did before._ _Rasor._ I won't kiss you, not I. _Madam._ Adieu. [_Going._ _Rasor._ Hold----Now proceed.