LAET. Who are you, sir? You have mistaken the house sure.

BELL. I have directions in my pocket which agree with everything
but your unkindness. [Pulls out the letter.]

LAET. My letter! Base Vainlove! Then 'tis too late to dissemble.
[Aside.] 'Tis plain, then, you have mistaken the person. [Going.]

BELL. If we part so I'm mistaken. Hold, hold, madam! I confess I
have run into an error. I beg your pardon a thousand times. What
an eternal blockhead am I! Can you forgive me the disorder I have
put you into? But it is a mistake which anybody might have made.

LAET. What can this mean? 'Tis impossible he should be mistaken
after all this. A handsome fellow if he had not surprised me.
Methinks, now I look on him again, I would not have him mistaken.
[Aside.] We are all liable to mistakes, sir. If you own it to be
so, there needs no farther apology.

BELL. Nay, faith, madam, 'tis a pleasant one, and worth your
hearing. Expecting a friend last night, at his lodgings, till
'twas late, my intimacy with him gave me the freedom of his bed.
He not coming home all night, a letter was delivered to me by a
servant in the morning. Upon the perusal I found the contents so
charming that I could think of nothing all day but putting 'em in
practice, until just now, the first time I ever looked upon the
superscription, I am the most surprised in the world to find it
directed to Mr. Vainlove. Gad, madam, I ask you a million of
pardons, and will make you any satisfaction.