_Pleas._ Love, jealousy, and disdain, how they torture me at once! and this insensible creature--were I but in his place--[_To him._] Think, that this very instant she is yours no more: Now, now she is giving up herself, with so much violence of love, that if thunder roared, she could not hear it. _Limb._ I have been whetting all this while: They shall be so taken in the manner, that Mars and Venus shall be nothing to them. _Pleas._ Make haste; go on then. _Limb._ Yes, I will go on;--and yet my mind misgives me plaguily. _Saint._ Again backsliding! _Pleas._ Have you no sense of honour in you? _Limb._ Well, honour is honour, and I must go: But I shall never get me such another Pug again! O, my heart! my poor tender heart! it is just breaking with Pug's unkindness! [_They drag him out._ SCENE II.--WOODALL _and_ TRICKSY _discovered in the Garden-house._ _Enter_ GERVASE _to them._ _Gerv._ Make haste, and save yourself, sir; the enemy's at hand: I have discovered him from the corner, where you set me sentry. _Wood._ Who is it? _Gerv._ Who should it be, but Limberham? armed with a two-hand fox. O Lord, O Lord! _Trick._ Enter quickly into the still-house, both of you, and leave me to him: There is a spring-lock within, to open it when we are gone. _Wood._ Well, I have won the party and revenge, however: A minute longer, and I had won the tout. [_They go in: She locks the Door._ _Enter_ LIMBERHAM, _with a great Sword._ _Limb._ Disloyal Pug! _Trick._ What humour is this? you are drunk, it seems: Go sleep. _Limb._ Thou hast robbed me of my repose for ever: I am like Macbeth, after the death of good king Duncan; methinks a voice says to me,--Sleep no more; Tricksy has murdered sleep. _Trick._ Now I find it: You are willing to save your settlement, and are sent by some of your wise counsellors, to pick a quarrel with me. _Limb._ I have been your cully above these seven years; but, at last, my eyes are opened to your witchcraft; and indulgent heaven has taken care of my preservation. In short, madam, I have found you out; and, to cut off preambles, produce your adulterer. _Trick._ If I have any, you know him best: You are the only ruin of my reputation. But if I have dishonoured my family, for the love of you, methinks you should be the last man to upbraid me with it. _Limb._ I am sure you are of the family of your abominable great grandam Eve; but produce the man, or, by my father's soul-- _Trick._ Still I am in the dark. _Limb._ Yes, you have been in the dark; I know it: But I shall bring you to light immediately. _Trick._ You are not jealous? _Limb._ No; I am too certain to be jealous: But you have a man here, that shall be nameless; let me see him. _Trick._ Oh, if that be your business, you had best search: And when you have wearied yourself, and spent your idle humour, you may find me above, in my chamber, and come to ask my pardon. [_Going._