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MASK. I am concerned to see your lordship discomposed. LORD TOUCH. Have you seen my wife lately, or disobliged her? MASK. No, my lord. What can this mean? [_Aside_.] LORD TOUCH. Then Mellefont has urged somebody to incense her. Something she has heard of you which carries her beyond the bounds of patience. MASK. This I feared. [_Aside_.] Did not your lordship tell her of the honours you designed me? LORD TOUCH. Yes. MASK. 'Tis that; you know my lady has a high spirit; she thinks I am unworthy. LORD TOUCH. Unworthy! 'Tis an ignorant pride in her to think so. Honesty to me is true nobility. However, 'tis my will it shall be so, and that should be convincing to her as much as reason. By Heaven, I'll not be wife-ridden; were it possible, it should be done this night. MASK. By Heaven, he meets my wishes! [_Aside_.] Few things are impossible to willing minds. LORD TOUCH. Instruct me how this may be done, you shall see I want no inclination. MASK. I had laid a small design for to-morrow (as love will be inventing) which I thought to communicate to your lordship. But it may be as well done to-night. LORD TOUCH. Here's company. Come this way and tell me. SCENE XIV. CARELESS _and_ CYNTHIA. CARE. Is not that he now gone out with my lord? CYNT. Yes. CARE. By heaven, there's treachery. The confusion that I saw your father in, my Lady Touchwood's passion, with what imperfectly I overheard between my lord and her, confirm me in my fears. Where's Mellefont? CYNT. Here he comes. SCENE XV. [_To them_] MELLEFONT. CYNT. Did Maskwell tell you anything of the chaplain's chamber? MEL. No. My dear, will you get ready? The things are all in my chamber; I want nothing but the habit. CARE. You are betrayed, and Maskwell is the villain I always thought him. CYNT. When you were gone, he said his mind was changed, and bid me meet him in the chaplain's room, pretending immediately to follow you and give you notice. MEL. How? CARE. There's Saygrace tripping by with a bundle under his arm. He cannot be ignorant that Maskwell means to use his chamber; let's follow and examine him. MEL. 'Tis loss of time; I cannot think him false. SCENE XVI. CYNTHIA, LORD TOUCHWOOD. CYNT. My lord musing! LORD TOUCH. He has a quick invention, if this were suddenly designed. Yet he says he had prepared my chaplain already. CYNT. How's this?
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