_Pinch._ [_Aside._] O Heavens! what do I suffer? Now 'tis too plain he knows her, and yet-- _Horn._ And this, and this--[_Kisses her again._ _Mrs. Pinch._ What do you kiss me for? I am no woman. _Pinch._ [_Aside._] So, there, 'tis out.--[_Aloud._] Come, I cannot, nor will stay any longer. _Horn._ Nay, they shall send your lady a kiss too. Here, Harcourt, Dorilant, will you not? [_They kiss her._ _Pinch._ [_Aside._] How! do I suffer this? Was I not accusing another just now for this rascally patience, in permitting his wife to be kissed before his face? Ten thousand ulcers gnaw away their lips.--[_Aloud._] Come, come. _Horn._ Good night, dear little gentleman; madam, good night: farewell, Pinchwife.--[_Apart to_ HARCOURT _and_ DORILANT.] Did not I tell you I would raise his jealous gall? [_Exeunt_ HORNER, HARCOURT _and_ DORILANT. _Pinch._ So, they are gone at last; stay, let me see first if the coach be at this door. [_Exit._ _Re-enter_ HORNER, HARCOURT, _and_ DORILANT. _Horn._ What, not gone yet? Will you be sure to do as I desired you, sweet sir? _Mrs. Pinch._ Sweet sir, but what will you give me then? _Horn._ Anything. Come away into the next walk. [_Exit, haling away_ Mrs. PINCHWIFE. _Alith._ Hold! hold! what d'ye do? _Lucy._ Stay, stay, hold-- _Har._ Hold, madam, hold, let him present him--he'll come presently; nay, I will never let you go till you answer my question. _Lucy._ For God's sake, sir, I must follow 'em. [ALITHEA _and_ LUCY, _struggling with_ HARCOURT _and_ DORILANT. _Dor._ No, I have something to present you with too, you shan't follow them. _Re-enter_ PINCHWIFE. _Pinch._ Where?--how--what's become of?--gone!--whither? _Lucy._ He's only gone with the gentleman, who will give him something, an't please your worship. _Pinch._ Something!--give him something, with a pox!--where are they? _Alith._ In the next walk only, brother. _Pinch._ Only, only! where, where? [_Exit and returns presently, then goes out again._ _Har._ What's the matter with him? why so much concerned? But, dearest madam-- _Alith._ Pray let me go, sir; I have said and suffered enough already. _Har._ Then you will not look upon, nor pity, my sufferings? _Alith._ To look upon 'em, when I cannot help 'em, were cruelty, not pity; therefore, I will never see you more. _Har._ Let me then, madam, have my privilege of a banished lover, complaining or railing, and giving you but a farewell reason why, if you cannot condescend to marry me, you should not take that wretch, my rival. _Alith._ He only, not you, since my honour is engaged so far to him, can give me a reason why I should not marry him; but if he be true, and what I think him to me, I must be so to him. Your servant, sir. _Har._ Have women only constancy when 'tis a vice, and are, like Fortune, only true to fools?