_Scar_. The Woman’s mad--hark ye, Jade, how long have you been thus distracted? _Har_. E’er since I lov’d and trusted thee, false Varlet.--See here, the Witness of my Love and Shame. [_Bawls, and points to her Belly. Just then_ Mopsophil _enters_. _Mop_. How! with Child! Out, Villain! was I made a Property? _Scar_. Hear me. _Har_. Oh, thou Heathen Christian! was not one Woman enough? _Mop_. Ay, Sirrah, answer to that. _Scar_. I shall be sacrific’d. _Mop_. I am resolv’d to marry to morrow--either to the Apothecary or the Farmer, Men I never saw, to be reveng’d on thee, thou termagant Infidel. _Enter the_ Doctor. _Doct_. What Noise, what Out-cry, what Tumult’s this? _Har_. Ha, the Doctor!--What shall I do? [_Gets to the Door_, Scar. _pulls her in_. _Doct_. A Woman! some Baud I am sure;--Woman, what’s your Business here? ha. _Har_. I came, an’t like your Seigniorship, to Madam the Governante here, to serve her in the Quality of a _Fille de Chambre_ to the young Ladies. _Doct_. A _Fille de Chambre_! ‘tis so, a she Pimp. _Har_. Ah, Seignior-- [_Makes his little dapper Leg, instead of a Curt’sy_. _Doct_. How now, what, do you mock me? _Har_. Oh Seignior! [_Gets nearer the Door_. _Mop_. Stay, stay, Mistress; and what Service are you able to do the Seignior’s Daughters? _Har_. Is this Seignior Doctor _Baliardo_, Madam? _Mop_. Yes. _Har_. Oh! he’s a very handsome Gentleman--indeed. _Doct_. Ay, ay, what Service can you do, Mistress? _Har_. Why, Seignior, I can tie a Crevat the best of any Person in _Naples_, and I can comb a Periwig--and I can-- _Doct_. Very proper Service for young Ladies; you, I believe, have been _Fille de Chambre_ to some young Cavaliers? _Har_. Most true, Seignior; why shou’d not the Cavaliers keep _Filles de Chambre_, as well as great Ladies _Valets de Chambre_? _Doct_. Indeed ‘tis equally reasonable.--’Tis a Baud. [_Aside_. But have you never serv’d Ladies? _Har_. Oh yes, I serv’d a Parson’s Wife? _Doct_. Is that a great Lady? _Har_. Ay, surely, Sir, what is she else? for she wore her Mantuas of _Brocade d’or_, Petticoats lac’d up to the Gathers, her Points, her Patches, Paints and Perfumes, and sat in the uppermost place in the Church too. _Mop_. But have you never serv’d Countesses and Dutchesses? _Har_. Oh, yes, Madam; the last I serv’d, was an Alderman’s Wife in the City. _Mop_. Was that a Countess or a Dutchess? _Har_. Ay, certainly--for they have all the Money; and then for Clothes, Jewels, and rich Furniture, and eating, they out-do the very _Vice-Reine_ her self. _Doct_. This is a very ignorant running Baud,--therefore first search her for _Billets-Doux_, and then have her pump’d. _Har_. Ah, Seignior,--Seignior. [Scar. _searches him, finds Letters_.