Love. So, thus far all’s well: I have got into her dressing-room, and it being dusk, I think nobody has perceived me steal into the house. I heard Berinthia tell my wife she had some particular letters to write this evening, before she went to Sir Tunbelly’s, and here are the implements of correspondence.—How shall I muster up assurance to show myself when she comes? I think she has given me encouragement; and, to do my impudence justice, I have made the most of it.—I hear a door open, and some one coming. If it should be my wife, what the devil should I say? I believe she mistrusts me, and, by my life, I don’t deserve her tenderness. However, I am determined to reform, though not yet. Ha! Berinthia!—So, I’ll step in here, till I see what sort of humour she is in.

[Goes into the closet.

Enter Berinthia.

Ber. Was ever so provoking a situation! To think I should sit and hear him compliment Amanda to my face! I have lost all patience with them both! I would not for something have Loveless know what temper of mind they have piqued me into; yet I can’t bear to leave them together. No, I’ll put my papers away, and return, to disappoint them.—[Goes to the closet.]—O Lord! a ghost! a ghost! a ghost!

Re-enter Loveless.

Love. Peace, my angel; it’s no ghost, but one worth a hundred spirits.

Ber. How, sir, have you had the insolence to presume to—run in again; here’s somebody coming.

[Loveless goes into the closet.

Enter Maid.

Maid. O Lord, ma’am, what’s the matter?

Ber. O Heavens! I’m almost frightened out of my wits! I thought verily I had seen a ghost, and ’twas nothing but a black hood pinned against the wall. You may go again; I am the fear-fullest fool!

[Exit Maid.

Re-enter Loveless.

Love. Is the coast clear?

Ber. The coast clear! Upon my word, I wonder at your assurance.

Love. Why, then, you wonder before I have given you a proof of it. But where’s my wife?

Ber. At cards.

Love. With whom?

Ber. With Townly.

Love. Then we are safe enough.

Ber. You are so! Some husbands would be of another mind, were he at cards with their wives.

Love. And they’d be in the right on’t, too; but I dare trust mine.

Ber. Indeed! and she, I doubt not, has the same confidence in you. Yet, do you think she’d be content to come and find you here?