_Charl_. In every Syllable, in every Look; Your Vows, your Sighs, and Eyes, all counterfeit. You said you lov’d me, where was then your Truth? You swore you were to be your Uncle’s Heir; Where was your Confidence of me the while. To think my Generosity so scanted, To love you for your Fortune? --How every Look betrays my yielding Heart! [_Aside_. No, since Men are grown so cunning in their Trade of Love, the necessary Vice I’ll practise too, And chaffer with Love-Merchants for my Heart. Make it appear you are your Uncle’s Heir, I’ll marry ye to morrow. Of all thy Cheats, that was the most unkind, Because you thought to conquer by that Lye. To night I’ll be resolv’d. _Wild_. Hum! to night! _Charl_. To night, or I will think you love me for my Fortune; Which if you find elsewhere to more advantage, I may unpitied die--and I shou’d die If you should prove untrue. [Tenderly to him. Mrs. _Clack_. There you’ve dasht all again. _Wild_. I’m resolv’d to keep my Credit with her-- Here’s my Hand; This Night, _Charlot_, I’ll let you see the Writings. --But how? a Pox on him that knows for _Thomas_. [_Aside_. _Charl_. Hah! that Hand without the Ring! Nay, never study for a handsom Lye. _Wild_. Ring? Oh, ay, I left it in my Dressing-room this Morning. _Charl_. See how thou hast inur’d thy Tongue to falshood! Did you not send it to a certain Creature They call _Diana_, From off that Hand that plighted Faith to me? _Wild_. By Heaven, ‘tis Witchcraft all; Unless this Villain _Foppington_ betray me. Those sort of Rascals would do any thing For ready Meat and Wine--I’ll kill the Fool--hah, here! [_Turns quick, and sees him behind him_. _Fop_. Here, Lord! Lord! Where were thy Eyes, dear _Wilding_? _Wild_. Where they have spy’d a Rascal. Where was this Property conceal’d? _Fop_. Conceal’d! What dost thou mean, dear _Tom_? Why, I stood as plain as the Nose on thy Face, mun. _Wild_. But ‘tis the ungrateful Quality of all your sort to make such base returns. How got this Rogue Admittance, and when in, The Impudence to tell his treacherous Lyes? _Fop_. Admittance! why thou art stark mad: Did not I come in with you, that is, follow’d you? _Wild_. Whither? _Fop_. Why, into the House, up stairs, stood behind you when you swore you wou’d come in, and follow’d you in! _Wild_. All this, and I not see! _Fop_. Oh, Love’s blind; but this Lady saw me, Mrs. _Clacket_ saw me-- Admittance quotha! _Wild_. Why did you not speak? _Fop_. Speak! I was so amaz’d at what I heard, the villanous Scandals laid on you by some pick-thank Rogue or other, I had no Power. _Wild_. Ay, thou know’st how I am wrong’d. _Fop_. Oh, most damnably, Sir! _Wild_. Abuse me to my Mistress too! _Fop_. Oh, Villains! Dogs! _Charl_. Do you think they have wrong’d him, Sir? For I’ll believe you. _Fop_. Do I think, Madam? Ay, I think him a Son of a Whore that said it; and I’ll cut his Throat. Mrs. _Clack_. Well, this Impudence is a heavenly Virtue.