BELL. How can’st thou be so cruel, Isaac? Thou hast the heart of a mountain-tiger. By the faith of a sincere sinner, she’s innocent for me. Go to him, madam, fling your snowy arms about his stubborn neck; bathe his relentless face in your salt trickling tears. [_She goes and hangs upon his neck_, _and kisses him_. BELLMOUR _kisses her hand behind_ FONDLEWIFE’S _back_.] So, a few soft words, and a kiss, and the good man melts. See how kind nature works, and boils over in him. LÆT. Indeed, my dear, I was but just come down stairs, when you knocked at the door; and the maid told me Mr. Spintext was ill of the colic upon our bed. And won’t you speak to me, cruel Nykin? Indeed, I’ll die, if you don’t. FOND. Ah! No, no, I cannot speak, my heart’s so full—I have been a tender husband, a tender yoke-fellow; you know I have.—But thou hast been a faithless Delilah, and the Philistines—Heh! Art thou not vile and unclean, heh? Speak. [_Weeping_.] LÆT. No-h. [_Sighing_.] FOND. Oh that I could believe thee! LÆT. Oh, my heart will break. [_Seeming to faint_.] FOND. Heh, how! No, stay, stay, I will believe thee, I will. Pray bend her forward, sir. LÆT. Oh! oh! Where is my dear? FOND. Here, here; I do believe thee. I won’t believe my own eyes. BELL. For my part, I am so charmed with the love of your turtle to you, that I’ll go and solicit matrimony with all my might and main. FOND. Well, well, sir; as long as I believe it, ’tis well enough. No thanks to you, sir, for her virtue.—But, I’ll show you the way out of my house, if you please. Come, my dear. Nay, I will believe thee, I do, i’feck. BELL. See the great blessing of an easy faith; opinion cannot err. No husband, by his wife, can be deceived; She still is virtuous, if she’s so believed. ACT V. SCENE I. SCENE: _The Street_. BELLMOUR _in fanatic habit_, SETTER, HEARTWELL, LUCY. BELL. Setter! Well encountered. SET. Joy of your return, sir. Have you made a good voyage? or have you brought your own lading back? BELL. No, I have brought nothing but ballast back—made a delicious voyage, Setter; and might have rode at anchor in the port till this time, but the enemy surprised us—I would unrig. SET. I attend you, sir. BELL. Ha! Is it not that Heartwell at Sylvia’s door? Be gone quickly, I’ll follow you—I would not be known. Pox take ’em, they stand just in my way. SCENE II. BELLMOUR, HEARTWELL, LUCY. HEART. I’m impatient till it be done. LUCY. That may be, without troubling yourself to go again for your brother’s chaplain. Don’t you see that stalking form of godliness? HEART. O ay; he’s a fanatic. LUCY. An executioner qualified to do your business. He has been lawfully ordained. HEART. I’ll pay him well, if you’ll break the matter to him. LUCY. I warrant you.—Do you go and prepare your bride. SCENE III. BELLMOUR, LUCY.