L. _Ful_. And must my Honour be the Price of it? Could nothing but my Fame reward your Passion? --What, make me a base Prostitute, a foul Adulteress? Oh--be gone, be gone--dear Robber of my Quiet. [_Weeping_. Sir _Cau_. Oh, fearful!-- _Gay_. Oh! Calm your rage, and hear me; if you are so, You are an innocent Adulteress. It was the feeble Husband you enjoy’d In cold imagination, and no more; Shily you turn’d away--faintly resign’d. Sir _Cau_. Hum, did she so?-- _Gay_. Till my Excess of Love betray’d the Cheat. Sir _Cau_. Ay, ay, that was my Fear. L. _Ful_. Away, be gone--I’ll never see you more-- _Gay_. You may as well forbid the Sun to shine. Not see you more!--Heavens! I before ador’d you, But now I rave! And with my impatient Love, A thousand mad and wild Desires are burning! I have discover’d now new Worlds of Charms, And can no longer tamely love and suffer. Sir _Cau_. So--I have brought an old House upon my Head, Intail’d Cuckoldom upon my self. L. _Ful_. I’ll hear no more--Sir _Cautious_,--where’s my Husband? Why have you left my Honour thus unguarded? Sir _Cau_. Ay, ay, she’s well enough pleas’d, I fear, for all. _Gay_. Base as he is, ‘twas he expos’d this Treasure; Like silly Indians barter’d thee for Trifles. Sir _Cau_. O treacherous Villain!-- L. _Ful_. Hah--my Husband do this? _Gay_. He, by Love, he was the kind Procurer, Contriv’d the means, and brought me to thy Bed. L. _Ful_. My Husband! My wise Husband! What fondness in my Conduct had he seen, To take so shameful and so base Revenge? _Gay_. None--’twas filthy Avarice seduc’d him to’t. L. _Ful_. If he cou’d be so barbarous to expose me, Cou’d you who lov’d me--be so cruel too? _Gay_. What--to possess thee when the Bliss was offer’d? Possess thee too without a Crime to thee? Charge not my Soul with so remiss a flame, So dull a sense of Virtue to refuse it. L. _Ful_. I am convinc’d the fault was all my Husband’s-- And here I vow--by all things just and sacred, To separate for ever from his Bed. [_Kneels_. Sir _Cau_. Oh, I am not able to indure it-- Hold--oh, hold, my Dear-- [_He kneels as she rises_. L. _Ful_. Stand off--I do abhor thee-- Sir _Cau_. With all my Soul--but do not make rash Vows. They break my very Heart--regard my Reputation. L. _Ful_. Which you have had such care of, Sir, already-- Rise, ‘tis in vain you kneel. Sir _Cau_. No--I’ll never rise again--Alas! Madam, I was merely drawn in; I only thought to sport a Dye or so: I had only an innocent design to have discover’d whether this Gentleman had stoln my Gold, that so I might have hang’d him-- _Gay_. A very innocent Design indeed! Sir _Cau_. Ay, Sir, that’s all, as I’m an honest man.-- L. _Ful_. I’ve sworn, nor are the Stars more fix’d than I. _Enter Servant_. _Serv_. How! my Lady and his Worship up?--Madam, a Gentleman and a Lady below in a Coach knockt me up, and say they must speak with your Ladyship.