Jos. Surf. Ha! ha! ha! Well, this is ridiculous enough. I’ll tell you, Sir Peter, though I hold a man of intrigue to be a most despicable character, yet you know, it does not follow that one is to be an absolute Joseph either! Hark’ee, ’tis a little French milliner, a silly rogue that plagues me; and having some character to lose, on your coming, sir, she ran behind the screen.
Sir Pet. Ah, Joseph! Joseph! Did I ever think that you—But, egad, she has overheard all I have been saying of my wife.
Jos. Surf. Oh, ’twill never go any farther, you may depend upon it!
Sir Pet. No! then, faith, let her hear it out.—Here’s a closet will do as well.
Jos. Surf. Well, go in there.
Sir Pet. Sly rogue! sly rogue!
[Goes into the closet.
Jos. Surf. A narrow escape, indeed! and a curious situation I’m in, to part man and wife in this manner.
Lady Teaz. [Peeping.] Couldn’t I steal off?
Jos. Surf. Keep close, my angel!
Sir Pet. [Peeping.] Joseph, tax him home.
Jos. Surf. Back, my dear friend!
Lady Teaz. [Peeping.] Couldn’t you lock Sir Peter in?
Jos. Surf. Be still, my life!
Sir Pet. [Peeping.] You’re sure the little milliner won’t blab?
Jos. Surf. In, in, my dear Sir Peter!—’Fore Gad, I wish I had a key to the door.
Enter Charles Surface.
Chas. Surf. Holla! brother, what has been the matter? Your fellow would not let me up at first. What! have you had a Jew or a wench with you?
Jos. Surf. Neither, brother, I assure you.
Chas. Surf. But what has made Sir Peter steal off? I thought he had been with you.
Jos. Surf. He was, brother; but, hearing you were coming, he did not choose to stay.
Chas. Surf. What! was the old gentleman afraid I wanted to borrow money of him?
Jos. Surf. No, sir: but I am sorry to find, Charles, you have lately given that worthy man grounds for great uneasiness.
Chas. Surf. Yes, they tell me I do that to a great many worthy men. But how so, pray?
Jos. Surf. To be plain with you, brother, he thinks you are endeavouring to gain Lady Teazle’s affections from him.