Will. Ah, Rogue, how finely he’s instructed! [Aside.] —’Tis plain some Woman that has seen me _en passant._ Ang. Oh, I shall burst with Jealousy! do you know the Man you speak of?— Hell. Yes, Madam, he us’d to be in Buff and Scarlet. Ang. Thou, false as Hell, what canst thou say to this? [To _Will._ Will. By Heaven— Ang. Hold, do not damn thy self— Hell. Nor hope to be believ’d. [He walks about, they follow. Ang. Oh, perjur’d Man! Is’t thus you pay my generous Passion back? Hell. Why wou’d you, Sir, abuse my Lady’s Faith? Ang. And use me so inhumanly? Hell. A Maid so young, so innocent— Will. Ah, young Devil! Ang. Dost thou not know thy Life is in my Power? Hell. Or think my Lady cannot be reveng’d? Will. So, so, the Storm comes finely on. [Aside. Ang. Now thou art silent, Guilt has struck thee dumb. Oh, hadst thou still been so, I’d liv’d in safety. [She turns away and weeps. Will. Sweetheart, the Lady’s Name and House—quickly: I’m impatient to be with her.— [Aside to _Hellena_, looks towards _Angel._ to watch her turning; and as she comes towards them, he meets her. Hell. So now is he for another Woman. [Aside. Will. The impudent’st young thing in Nature! I cannot persuade him out of his Error, Madam. Ang. I know he’s in the right,—yet thou’st a Tongue That wou’d persuade him to deny his Faith. [In Rage walks away. 75 Will. Her Name, her Name, dear Boy— [Said softly to _Hell._ Hell. Have you forgot it, Sir? Will. Oh, I perceive he’s not to know I am a Stranger to his Lady. [Aside. —Yes, yes, I do know—but—I have forgot the— [_Angel._ turns. —By Heaven, such early confidence I never saw. Ang. Did I not charge you with this Mistress, Sir? Which you denied, tho I beheld your Perjury. This little Generosity of thine has render’d back my Heart. [Walks away. Will. So, you have made sweet work here, my little mischief; Look your Lady be kind and good-natur’d now, or I shall have but a cursed Bargain on’t. [_Ang._ turns towards them. —The Rogue’s bred up to Mischief, Art thou so great a Fool to credit him? Ang. Yes, I do; and you in vain impose upon me. —Come hither, Boy—Is not this he you speak of? Hell. I think—it is; I cannot swear, but I vow he has just such another lying Lover’s look. [_Hell._ looks in his Face, he gazes on her. Will. Hah! do not I know that Face?— By Heaven, my little Gipsy! what a dull Dog was I? Had I but lookt that way, I’d known her. Are all my hopes of a new Woman banisht? [Aside. —Egad, if I don’t fit thee for this, hang me. —Madam, I have found out the Plot. Hell. Oh Lord, what does he say? am I discover’d now? Will. Do you see this young Spark here? Hell. He’ll tell her who I am. Will. Who do you think this is? Hell. Ay, ay, he does know me.—Nay, dear Captain, I’m undone if you discover me. Will. Nay, nay, no cogging; she shall know what a precious Mistress I have. 76 Hell. Will you be such a Devil?