waitwell, my servant. oh, he is a humble servant to foible, my mother's woman, and may win her to your interest. care is taken for that. she is won and worn by this time. foible and waitwell were married this morning. so if my poor mother is caught in the contract, you will discover the imposture and release her by producing a certificate of her gallant's former marriage. yes, on the condition that she consent to my marriage with millamant and surrender the moiety of millamant's fortune in her possession. well, i have an opinion of your success, for i believe my lady wishfort will do anything to get a husband. yes, i think the good lady would marry anything that resembled a man, though 'twere no more than what a butler could pinch out of a napkin. oh, female frailty. we must all come to it, if we live to be old. here comes your mistress. here she comes, i'faith, full sail, with fan spread and streamers out. you seem to be unattended, madam. you used to have the beau monde throng after you. oh, i have denie