Lady. With Mirabell! You call my blood into my face, with mentioning that traitor. She durst not have the confidence. I sent her to negotiate an affair, in which if I’m detected I’m undone. If that wheadling villain has wrought upon Foible to detect me, I’m ruined. Oh my dear friend, I’m a wretch of wretches if I’m detected.

Mrs. Mar. O madam, you cannot suspect Mrs. Foible’s integrity.

Lady. O, he carries poison in his tongue that would corrupt integrity itself. If she has given him an opportunity, she has as good as put her integrity into his hands. Ah, dear Marwood, what’s integrity to an opportunity?—Hark! I hear her.—Dear friend, retire into my closet, that I may examine her with more freedom—You’ll pardon me, dear friend, I can make bold with you—There are books over the chimney—Quarles and Pryn, and the Short View of the Stage, with Bunyan’s works to entertain you.—Go, you thing, and send her in.

[To Peg.

SCENE V

Lady Wishfort, Foible.

Lady. O Foible, where hast thou been? what hast thou been doing?

Foib. Madam, I have seen the party.

Lady. But what hast thou done?

Foib. Nay, ’tis your ladiship has done, and are to do; I have only promised. But a man so enamoured—so transported. Well, if worshipping of pictures be a sin—poor Sir Rowland, I say.

Lady. The miniature has been counted like—But hast thou not betrayed me, Foible? Hast thou not detected me to that faithless Mirabell?—What hadst thou to do with him in the Park? Answer me, has he got nothing out of thee?

Foib. So, the devil has been beforehand with me, what shall I say?—Alas, madam, could I help it, if I met that confident thing? Was I in fault? If you had heard how he used me, and all upon your ladiship’s account, I’m sure you would not suspect my fidelity. Nay, if that had been the worst I could have born: but he had a fling at your ladiship too; and then I could not hold: but i’faith I gave him his own.

Lady. Me? What did the filthy fellow say?

Foib. O madam; ’tis a shame to say what he said—with his taunts and his fleers, tossing up his nose. Humh (says he), what you are a hatching some plot (says he), you are so early abroad, or catering (says he), ferreting for some disbanded officer, I warrant—half pay is but thin subsistance (says he)—Well, what pension does your lady propose? Let me see (says he), what she must come down pretty deep now, she’s superannuated (says he) and—

Lady. Ods my life, I’ll have him, I’ll have him murdered. I’ll have him poisoned. Where does he eat? I’ll marry a drawer to have him poisoned in his wine. I’ll send for Robin from Lockets—immediately.

Foib. Poison him? Poisoning’s too good for him. Starve him, madam, starve him; marry Sir Rowland, and get him disinherited. O you would bless yourself, to hear what he said.

Lady. A villain, superannuated!

Foib. Humh (says he), I hear you are laying designs against me too (says he), and Mrs. Millamant is to marry my uncle (he does not suspect a word of your ladiship); but (says he) I’ll fit you for that, I warrant