LADY TOUCH. To what end is this? MASK. It will confirm my lord's opinion of my honour and honesty, and create in him a new confidence in me, which (should this design miscarry) will be necessary to the forming another plot that I have in my head.--To cheat you as well as the rest. [_Aside_.] LADY TOUCH. I'll do it--I'll tell him you hindered him once from forcing me. MASK. Excellent! Your ladyship has a most improving fancy. You had best go to my lord, keep him as long as you can in his closet, and I doubt not but you will mould him to what you please; your guests are so engaged in their own follies and intrigues, they'll miss neither of you. LADY TOUCH. When shall we meet?--at eight this evening in my chamber? There rejoice at our success, and toy away an hour in mirth. MASK. I will not fail. SCENE III. MASKWELL _alone_. I know what she means by toying away an hour well enough. Pox, I have lost all appetite to her; yet she's a fine woman, and I loved her once. But I don't know: since I have been in a great measure kept by her, the case is altered; what was my pleasure is become my duty, and I have as little stomach to her now as if I were her husband. Should she smoke my design upon Cynthia, I were in a fine pickle. She has a damned penetrating head, and knows how to interpret a coldness the right way; therefore I must dissemble ardour and ecstasy; that's resolved. How easily and pleasantly is that dissembled before fruition! Pox on't that a man can't drink without quenching his thirst. Ha! yonder comes Mellefont, thoughtful. Let me think. Meet her at eight--hum--ha! By heav'n I have it.--If I can speak to my lord before. Was it my brain or providence? No matter which--I will deceive 'em all, and yet secure myself. 'Twas a lucky thought! Well, this double-dealing is a jewel. Here he comes, now for me. [MASKWELL, _pretending not to see him_, _walks by him_, _and speaks as it were to himself_.] SCENE IV. [_To him_] MELLEFONT, _musing_. MASK. Mercy on us, what will the wickedness of this world come to? MEL. How now, Jack? What, so full of contemplation that you run over? MASK. I'm glad you're come, for I could not contain myself any longer, and was just going to give vent to a secret, which nobody but you ought to drink down. Your aunt's just gone from hence. MEL. And having trusted thee with the secrets of her soul, thou art villainously bent to discover 'em all to me, ha? MASK. I'm afraid my frailty leans that way. But I don't know whether I can in honour discover 'em all. MEL. All, all, man! What, you may in honour betray her as far as she betrays herself. No tragical design upon my person, I hope. MASK. No, but it's a comical design upon mine. MEL. What dost thou mean? MASK. Listen and be dumb; we have been bargaining about the rate of your ruin-- MEL. Like any two guardians to an orphan heiress. Well?