LADY WISHFORT, PEG _with a bottle and china cup_. PEG. Madam, I was looking for a cup. LADY. A cup, save thee, and what a cup hast thou brought! Dost thou take me for a fairy, to drink out of an acorn? Why didst thou not bring thy thimble? Hast thou ne’er a brass thimble clinking in thy pocket with a bit of nutmeg? I warrant thee. Come, fill, fill. So, again. See who that is. [_One knocks_.] Set down the bottle first. Here, here, under the table:—what, wouldst thou go with the bottle in thy hand like a tapster? As I’m a person, this wench has lived in an inn upon the road, before she came to me, like Maritornes the Asturian in Don Quixote. No Foible yet? PEG. No, madam; Mrs. Marwood. LADY. Oh, Marwood: let her come in. Come in, good Marwood. SCENE IV. [_To them_] MRS. MARWOOD. MRS. MAR. I’m surprised to find your ladyship in _déshabillé_ at this time of day. LADY. Foible’s a lost thing; has been abroad since morning, and never heard of since. MRS. MAR. I saw her but now, as I came masked through the park, in conference with Mirabell. LADY. With Mirabell? You call my blood into my face with mentioning that traitor. She durst not have the confidence. I sent her to negotiate an affair, in which if I’m detected I’m undone. If that wheedling villain has wrought upon Foible to detect me, I’m ruined. O my dear friend, I’m a wretch of wretches if I’m detected. MRS. MAR. O madam, you cannot suspect Mrs. Foible’s integrity. LADY. Oh, he carries poison in his tongue that would corrupt integrity itself. If she has given him an opportunity, she has as good as put her integrity into his hands. Ah, dear Marwood, what’s integrity to an opportunity? Hark! I hear her. Dear friend, retire into my closet, that I may examine her with more freedom—you’ll pardon me, dear friend, I can make bold with you—there are books over the chimney—Quarles and Pryn, and the _Short View of the Stage_, with Bunyan’s works to entertain you.—Go, you thing, and send her in. [_To_ PEG.] SCENE V. LADY WISHFORT, FOIBLE. LADY. O Foible, where hast thou been? What hast thou been doing? FOIB. Madam, I have seen the party. LADY. But what hast thou done? FOIB. Nay, ’tis your ladyship has done, and are to do; I have only promised. But a man so enamoured—so transported! Well, if worshipping of pictures be a sin—poor Sir Rowland, I say. LADY. The miniature has been counted like. But hast thou not betrayed me, Foible? Hast thou not detected me to that faithless Mirabell? What hast thou to do with him in the park? Answer me, has he got nothing out of thee?