LORD TOUCH. Well, well.

LADY TOUCH. Nay, but will you be calm? Indeed it's nothing but -

LORD TOUCH. But what?

LADY TOUCH. But will you promise me not to be angry? Nay, you
must--not to be angry with Mellefont? I dare swear he's sorry, and
were it to do again, would not -

LORD TOUCH. Sorry for what? 'Death, you rack me with delay.

LADY TOUCH. Nay, no great matter, only--well, I have your promise.
Pho, why nothing, only your nephew had a mind to amuse himself
sometimes with a little gallantry towards me. Nay, I can't think he
meant anything seriously, but methought it looked oddly.

LORD TOUCH. Confusion and hell, what do I hear?

LADY TOUCH. Or, may be, he thought he was not enough akin to me,
upon your account, and had a mind to create a nearer relation on his
own; a lover you know, my lord. Ha, ha, ha. Well, but that's all.
Now you have it; well remember your promise, my lord, and don't take
any notice of it to him.

LORD TOUCH. No, no, no. Damnation!

LADY TOUCH. Nay, I swear you must not. A little harmless mirth;
only misplaced, that's all. But if it were more, 'tis over now, and
all's well. For my part I have forgot it, and so has he, I hope,--