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Show £o Lope and a Bottle. Luc. What, is Matrimony to be made a Jeft of? Don't be impertinent, Boy ; call him inftantly. Lean. W h a t fhall 1 do? Oh, Madam, fufpend it till. the Morning, for Heaven's fake. Mr. Lovewell is in the Houfe; I met him not half an hour ago; and he will certainly kill the Gentleman, and perhaps harm your Ladylhip. Luc. Lovewell in m y Houfe! H o w came he hither ? Lean. 1 know not, Madam. I faw him, and talk'd to him; he had his Sword drawn, and he threatned every body. Pray, delay it to Night, Madam. Luc. N o , I'm refolv'd ; and I'll prevent hisdifcoveringus; I'll put on a Suit of your Cloaths, and order Pindrefs to carry\ her Night-Gown to the Gentleman in the Garden, and bij-him meet m e in the lower Arbor, in the Weft Corner, and-fend the Chaplain thither inftantly. [Exit. Lean. Hold, Fortune, hold; thou haft entirely won; For I a m loft. Thus long I have been rack'd O n thy tormenting Wheel, and n o w m y Heart-ftrings break Difcovering who I am, expofes m e to fhame. Then what on Earth can help m e ? Enter Pindrefs. Pin. O h Lord, Page, what's the matter ? Here's old doings, or rather new doings. Prithee, let you and I throw in our Two-pence a piece into this Marriage-Lottery. Lean. You'll draw nothing but Blanks, I'll afTure you, from me. But flay, let m e confider o'th' bus'nefs. Pin. N o confideration; the bus'nefs muft be done hand over-head. Lean. Well, I have one Card to play ftill; and with you, Pindrefs. [Takes her Hani Pin. You expedl tho' that I fhou'd turn up Trumps. Lean. N o , not if I fhuffle right. [Afide."] - W e l l , Pindrefs, 'tis a Match. Begone to the lower Arbor, at the Weft-cornet of the Garden, and I'll come to thee immediately with the Chaplain. You muft not whifper , for w e muft pafs upon the Chaplain for m y Lady and the Gentleman. Hafle. Pin. Sha'n't I put on m y N e w G o w n firft ? Lean. N o , no ; you fhall have a Green-Gown for your ^Wedding in the Arbor. Pin. A Green-Gown ! - r - Well, all Flefh is Grafc. Lean. Make hafte, m y Spoufe, fly. Pin. And will you come? will you be fure to come? : - O my little Green-Goofeberry, m y Teeth waters at Lyeea.-n . N o w Chance. No, thou'rt blind. tjTxhbe.n |
