Mira. Your diligence will merit more—In the meantime—

[Gives mony.

Foib. O dear sir, your humble servant.

Wait. Spouse.

Mira. Stand off, sir, not a penny.—Go on and prosper, Foible—the lease shall be made good and the farm stocked, if we succeed.

Foib. I don’t question your generosity, sir: and you need not doubt of success. If you have no more commands, sir, I’ll be gone; I’m sure my lady is at her toilet, and can’t dress ’till I come.—O dear, I’m sure that [looking out] was Mrs. Marwood that went by in a mask; if she has seen me with you I’m sure she’ll tell my lady. I’ll make haste home and prevent her. Your servant, sir. B’w’y, Waitwell.

SCENE IX

Mirabell, Waitwell.

Wait. Sir Rowland if you please. The jade’s so pert upon her preferment she forgets herself.

Mira. Come, sir, will you endeavour to forget yourself—and transform into Sir Rowland.

Wait. Why, sir; it will be impossible I should remember myself—married, knighted and attended all in one day! ’Tis enough to make any man forget himself. The difficulty will be how to recover my acquaintance and familiarity with my former self; and fall from my transformation to a reformation into Waitwell. Nay, I shan’t be quite the same Waitwell neither—for now I remember me, I’m married, and can’t be my own man again.