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Show 3© Sir Harry Wildair 5 being pack of Wenches o' purpofe to hunt down Matrimony. Don't you know, Sir, that lawful Wedlock in m e is certain Poverty to you ? Look ye, Sirrah, come along; and for my Difappointment juft now, if you don't get m e a new Miftrefs to Night, I'll marry to Morrow, and won't leave you a Groat.--Go, Pimp, like a dutiful Brother. (Pufhes him out, and Exit. The End of the Third ACT. A C T IV. SCENE, a Tavern. Enter Fireball hauling in Clincher. Fire. / ^ O m e , Sir; not drink the King's Health! ^ Clin. Pray now, good Captain, excufe me. Look here, Sir; the [ Pulling out his Watch. ] critical Minute, the critical Minute, Faith! Fire. W h a t d'ye mean, Sir? Clin. The Lady's critical Minute, Sir. Sir, your humble Servant. (Going. Fire. Well! The Death of this Spanifh King will Clin. [Returning] Eh! What's that of the Spanifl) King? Tell me, dear Captain, tell me. Fire. Sir, if you pleafe to fit down, I'll tell you that old D o n Carlos is dead. Clin. Dead! Nay, then [Sits down.] Here, Pen and Ink, Boy ; Pen and Ink prefently; I muft write to my Correfpondent in Wales ftrait. Dead ! (Rifes, and walks about in Diforder. Fire. What's the matter, Sir ? Clin. Politicks, Politicks, ftark m a d with Politicks. Fire. 'Sdeath, Sir, what have fuch Fools as you to do with Politicks ? Clin. What, Sir ? The Succeffion! - Not mind the Succeffion! Fire. Nay, that's minded already; 'tis fettl'd upon a Prince of France. Clin. What, fettl'd already! The beft N e w s that ever came into England Come, Captain, faith and troth Captain, here's a Health to the Succeffion. lire. |