LORD FROTH. Oh, for the universe not a drop more, I beseech you. Oh, intemperate! I have a flushing in my face already. [_Takes out a pocket- glass and looks in it_.] BRISK. Let me see, let me see, my lord, I broke my glass that was in the lid of my snuff-box. Hum! Deuce take me, I have encouraged a pimple here too. [_Takes the glass and looks_.] LORD FROTH. Then you must mortify him with a patch; my wife shall supply you. Come, gentlemen, _allons_, here is company coming. SCENE VI. LADY TOUCHWOOD _and_ MASKWELL. LADY TOUCH. I'll hear no more. You are false and ungrateful; come, I know you false. MASK. I have been frail, I confess, madam, for your ladyship's service. LADY TOUCH. That I should trust a man whom I had known betray his friend! MASK. What friend have I betrayed? or to whom? LADY TOUCH. Your fond friend Mellefont, and to me; can you deny it? MASK. I do not. LADY TOUCH. Have you not wronged my lord, who has been a father to you in your wants, and given you being? Have you not wronged him in the highest manner, in his bed? MASK. With your ladyship's help, and for your service, as I told you before. I can't deny that neither. Anything more, madam? LADY TOUCH. More! Audacious villain! Oh, what's more, is most my shame. Have you not dishonoured me? MASK. No, that I deny; for I never told in all my life: so that accusation's answered; on to the next. LADY TOUCH. Death, do you dally with my passion? Insolent devil! But have a care,--provoke me not; for, by the eternal fire, you shall not 'scape my vengeance. Calm villain! How unconcerned he stands, confessing treachery and ingratitude! Is there a vice more black? Oh, I have excuses thousands for my faults; fire in my temper, passions in my soul, apt to ev'ry provocation, oppressed at once with love, and with despair. But a sedate, a thinking villain, whose black blood runs temperately bad, what excuse can clear? MASK. Will you be in temper, madam? I would not talk not to be heard. I have been [_she walks about disordered_] a very great rogue for your sake, and you reproach me with it; I am ready to be a rogue still, to do you service; and you are flinging conscience and honour in my face, to rebate my inclinations. How am I to behave myself? You know I am your creature, my life and fortune in your power; to disoblige you brings me certain ruin. Allow it I would betray you, I would not be a traitor to myself: I don't pretend to honesty, because you know I am a rascal; but I would convince you from the necessity of my being firm to you. LADY TOUCH. Necessity, impudence! Can no gratitude incline you, no obligations touch you? Have not my fortune and my person been subjected to your pleasure? Were you not in the nature of a servant, and have not I in effect made you lord of all, of me, and of my lord? Where is that humble love, the languishing, that adoration, which once was paid me, and everlastingly engaged?