Re-enter Mrs. Pinchwife.

Mrs. Pinch. O Lord, they’ll kill poor Mr. Horner! besides, he shan’t marry her whilst I stand by, and look on: I’ll not lose my second husband so.

Pinch. What do I see?

Alith. My sister in my clothes!

Spark. Ha!

Mrs. Pinch. Nay, pray now don’t quarrel about finding work for the parson, he shall marry me to Mr. Horner; or now, I believe, you have enough of me.

[To Pinchwife.

Horn. Damned, damned loving changeling!

[A side.

Mrs. Pinch. Pray, sister, pardon me for telling so many lies of you.

Horn. I suppose the riddle is plain now.

Lucy. No, that must be my work.—Good sir, hear me.

[Kneels to Pinchwife, who stands doggedly with his hat over his eyes.

Pinch. I will never hear woman again, but make ’em all silent thus—

[Offers to draw upon his Wife.

Horn. No, that must not be.

Pinch. You then shall go first, ’tis all one to me.

[Offers to draw on Horner, but is stopped by Harcourt. Har. Hold!

Re-enter Sir Jasper Fidget, Lady Squeamish, Mrs. Dainty Fidget, and Mrs. Squeamish.

Sir Jasp. What’s the matter? what’s the matter? pray, what’s the matter, sir? I beseech you communicate, sir.

Pinch. Why, my wife has communicated, sir, as your wife may have done too, sir, if she knows him, sir.

Sir Jasp. Pshaw, with him! ha! ha! he!

Pinch. D’ye mock me, sir? a cuckold is a kind of a wild beast; have a care, sir.

Sir Jasp. No, sure, you mock me, sir. He cuckold you! it can’t be, ha! ha! he! why, I’ll tell you, sir—

[Offers to whisper.

Pinch. I tell you again, he has whored my wife, and yours too, if he knows her, and all the women he comes near; ’tis not his dissembling, his hypocrisy, can wheedle me.

Sir Jasp. How! does he dissemble? is he a hypocrite? Nay, then—how—wife—sister, is he a hypocrite?