Mar. Devil take the cashier! I shall certainly have Charles gone before I come back. [Exit, running. Charles. Well, sir, I take my leave; but remember you expose an only son to all the miseries of wretched poverty, which too often lays the plan for scenes of mischief. Sir F. Stay, Charles! I have a sudden thought come into my head which may prove to thy advantage. Charles. Ha! does he relent? Sir F. My Lady Wrinkle, worth forty thousand pounds, sets up for a handsome young husband; she praised thee the other day; though the matchmakers can get twenty guineas for a sight of her, I can introduce thee for nothing. Charles. My Lady Wrinkle, sir! why she has but one eye. sir. Sir F. Then she'll see but half your extravagance, Charles. Condemn me to such a piece of deformity! a toothless, dirty, wry-necked, hunch-backed hag! Sir F. Hunch-backed! so much the better! then she has a rest for her misfortunes, for thou wilt load her swingingly. Now, I warrant, you think this is no offer of a father; forty thousand pounds is nothing with you. Charles. Yes, sir, I think it too much; a young beautiful woman with half the money would be more agreeable. I thank you, sir; but you choose better for yourself, I find. Sir F. Out of my doors, you dog! you pretend to meddle with my marriage, sirrah! Charles. Sir, I obey you, but Sir F. But me no buts-begone, sir! dare to ask me for money again!-refuse forty thousand pounds! Out of my doors, I say, without reply. (Exit CHARLES. Enter MARPLOT, running. Mar. Ha! gone! is Charles gone, gardy? Sir F. Yes, and I desire your wise worship to walk after him. Mar. Nay, egad I shall run, I tell you that. A plague of the cashier for detaining me so long! my money. Where the devil shall I find him now? I shall certainly lose this secret, and I had rather by half lose Where shall I find him now? D'ye know where Charles is gone, gardy? Sir F. Gone to the devil, and you may go after him. Mar. Ay, that I will as fast as I can. [Going, returns.] Have you any commands there, gardy? Sir F. What, is the fellow distracted? Enter Servant. [Exit. Serv. Sir George Airy inquires for you, sir. Sir F. Desire Sir George to walk up. Erit Sevant.] Now for a trial of skill, that will make me happy and him a fool. Ha, ha, ha! In my mind he looks like an ass already. Enter Sir GEORGE AIRY. Well, Sir George, do you hold in the same mind, or would you capitulate? ha, ha, ha! Look, here are the guineas. Chinks them.] Ha, ha, ha! Sir G. Not if they were twice the sum, Sir Francis; therefore be brief, call in the lady, and take your post. Sir F. Agreed. Miranda! [Erit. Sir G. If she's a woman, and not seduced by witchcraft, to this old rogue, I'll make his heart ache; for if she has but one grain of inclination about her, I'll vary a thousand shapes but find it. Re-enter Sir FRANCIS GRIPE and MIRANDA, Sir G. So from the eastern chambers breaks the sun, Dispels the clouds, and gilds the vales below. [Salutes her. Sir F. Hold, sir! kissing was not in our agreement. Sir G. Oh! that's by way of prologue. Pr'ythee, old Mammon, to thy post. Sir F. Takes out his watch.] Well, young Timon, 'tis now four exactly; ten minutes, remember, is your utmost limit; not a minute more. [Retires. Sir G. Madam, whether you'll excuse or blame my love, the author of this rash proceeding depends upon your pleasure, as also the life of your admirer; your sparkling eyes speak a heart susceptible of love, your vivacity a soul too delicate to admit the embraces of decayed mortality. Shake off this tyrant guardian's yoke; assume yourself, and dash his bold, aspiring hopes. The deity of his desires is avarice, a heretic in love, and ought to be banished by the queen of beauty. [Kneels.] See, madam, a faithful servant kneels, and begs to be admitted in the number of your slaves. [MIRANDA gives him her hand to raise him. Sir F. [Comes forward.] Hold, hold, hold! no palming; that's contrary to articles. Sir G. 'Sdeath, sir! keep your distance, or I'll write another article in your guts. [Lays his hand to his sword. Sir F. [Going back.] A bloody-minded fellow! Sir G. Not answer me! perhaps she thinks my address too grave: I'll be more free. [Aside.] Can you be so unconscionable, madam, to let me say all these fine things to you without one single compliment in return? Sir F. [Running up with his watch in his hand.] There's five of the ten minutes gone, Sir George. Adad! I don't like those close conferences. Sir G. More interruptions! You will have it, sir. [Lays his hand to his sword. Sir F. [Going back.] No, no; you sha'n't have her, neither. [Aside. joined her silence. I'll try another way. [Aside.] Sir G. Dumb still! Sure, this old dog has enan hundred Madam, these few minutes cost me the whole day so. However, madam, you must give pounds, and, would you answer me, I could purchase me leave to make the best interpretation I can for my money, and take the indication of your silence for the secret liking of my person; therefore, madam, I will instruct you how to keep your word inviolate to Sir Francis, and yet answer me to every question: as for example, when I ask anything to which you would reply in the affirmative, gently no your head, thus [nods]; and when in the negative thus [shakes his head]; and in the doubtful, a tender sigh, thus [sighs.] Mir. How every action charms me! But I'll fit him for signs, I warrant him. Aside. Sir G. Was it by his desire that you are dumb, madam, to all I can say? [MIR. nods.] Very well; she's tractable, I find. [Aside.] And is it possible that you can love him? [MIR. nods.] Miraculous! Pardon the bluntness of my questions, for my time is short. May I not hope to supplant him in your esteem? [MIR. sighs.] Good! she answers me as I could wish. Aside.] You'll not consent to marry him then? [MIR. sighs.] How! doubtful in that? Undone again! Humph! but that may proceed from his power to keep her out of her estate till twenty-five: I'll try that. [Aside.] Come, madam, I cannot think you hesitate in this affair out of any motive but your fortune: let him keep it till those few years are expired; make me happy with your person, let him enjoy your wealth. [Mia. holds up her hands.] Why, what sign is that now? Nay, nay, madam, except you observe my lesson I can't understand your meaning. Sir F. What a vengeance! are they talking by signs? 'Ad! I may be fooled here. [Aside.] What do you mean, Sir George? Sir G. To cut your throat, if you dare mutter another syllable. Sir F. 'Od! I wish he were fairly out of my house. [Aside. Sir G. Pray, madam, will you answer me to the purpose? Miranda shakes her head, and points to Sir Francis.] What does she mean? She won't answer me to the purpose; or is she afraid yon old cuff should understand her signs? ay, it must be that. [Aside.] I perceive, madam, you are too apprehensive of the promise you have made, to follow my rules, therefore, I'll suppose your mind, and answer for you. First for myself, madam; "That I am in love with you is an infallible truth." Now for you. [Turns on her side.] "Indeed, sir! and may I believe it?" "As certainly, madam, as that 'tis daylight, or that I die if you persist in silence. Bless me with the music of your voice, and raise my spirits to their proper heaven. [Kneels.] Thus low let me entreat! ere I am obliged to quit this place, grant me some token of a favourable reception, to keep my hopes alive." [Arises hastily, and turns on her side.] "Rise, sir, and since my guardian's presence will not allow me privilege of tongue, read that, and rest assured you are not indifferent to me." [Offers her a letter, she strikes it down.] Ha! right woman! but no matter; I'll go on. [Aside. Sir F. Ha! what's that? a letter! Ha, ha, ha! thou art balked. Sir G. Ha! a letter! Oh! let me kiss it with the same raptures that I would do the dear hand that touched it. [Opens it.] Now for a quick fancy, and a long extempore. [Aside. Sir F. [Coming up hastily.] The time is expired, sir, and you must take your leave. There, my girl; there's the hundred pounds which thou hast won. Go; I'll be with you presently. Ha, ha, ha, ha! [Exit Miranda. Sir G. Adsheart, madam! you won't leave me just in the nick, will you? Sir F. Ha, ha, ha! she has nicked you, Sir George, I think! ha, ha, ha! Have you any more hundred pounds to throw away upon courtship? ha, ha, ha! Sir G. He, he, he, he! A curse of your fleering jests! Yet, however ill I have succeeded, I'll venture the same wager she does not value thee a spoonful of snuff; nay, more, though you enjoined her silence to me, you'll never make her speak to the purpose with yourself. Si F. Ha, ha, ha! Did I not tell thee thou would'st repent thy money? Did I not say she hated young fellows? ha, ha, ha! Sir G. And I am positive she is not in love with age. Sir F. Ha, ha, ha! No matter for that; ha, ha! She is not taken with your youth, nor your rhetoric to boot; ha, ha! Sir G. Whatever her reasons are for disliking of me, I am certain she can be taken with nothing about thee. Sir F. Ha, ha, ha! how he swells with envy! Poor man, poor man! ha, ha, ha! I must beg your pardon, Sir George; Miranda will be impatient to Sir J. What! in the balcony again-notwithstanding my positive commands to the contrary? Why don't you write a bill on your forehead to shew passengers there's something to be let? Isa. What harm can there be in a little fresh air, sir? Sir J. Is your constitution so hot, mistress, that it wants cooling, ha? Apply the virtuous Spanish rules; banish your taste and thoughts of flesh, feed upon roots, and quench your thirst with water. Isa. That, and a close room, would certainly make me die of the vapours. Sir J. No, mistress, 'tis your high-fed, husty, rambling, rampant ladies that are troubled with the vapours: 'tis your ratafia, persico, cinnamon, citron, and spirit of clara, cause such swimming in the brain, that carries many a guinea full tide to the doctor: but you are not to be bred this way: no galloping abroad, no receiving visits at home-for in our loose country, the women are as dangerous as the men. Patch. So I told her, sir; and that it was not decent to be seen in a balcony; but she threatened to slap my chops, and told me I was her servant, not her governess. Sir J. Did she so ? but I'll make her to know that you are her duenna. Oh! that incomparable custom of Spain! Why, here is no depending upon old women in my country, for they are as wanton at eighty as a girl of eighteen; and a man may as safely trust to Asgil's translation, as to his greatgrandmother's not marrying again. Isa. Or to the Spanish ladies' veils and duennas for the safeguard of their honour. Sir J. Dare to ridicule the cautious conduct of that wise nation, and I'll have you locked up this fortnight, without a peep-hole. Isa. If we had but the ghostly helps in England which they have in Spain, I might deceive you if you did. Let me tell you, sir, confinement sharpens the invention, as want of sight strengthens the other senses, and is often more pernicious than the recreation that innocent liberty allows. Sir J. Say you so, mistress? Who the devil taught you the art of reasoning? I assure you they must have a greater faith than I pretend to, that can think any woman innocent that requires liberty; therefore, Patch, to your charge I give her; lock her up till I come back from Change. I shall have some sauntering coxcomb, with nothing but a red coat and a feather, think, by leaping into her arms, to leap into my estate; but I'll prevent them; she shall be only Signior Babinetto's. Patch Really, sir, I wish you would employ any body else in this affair; I lead a life like a dog in obeying your commands. Come, madam, will you be locked up? of. Isa. Ay! to enjoy more freedom than he is aware [Aside.-Exit with Patch. Sir J. I believe this wench is very true to my in Patch. Oh, Mr. Whisper! my lady saw you out of the window, and ordered me to bid you fly and let your master know she's now alone. Whis. Hush ! speak softly! I go, I go. But harkye, Mrs. Patch, shall not you and I have a little confabulation, when my master and your lady are engaged? Patch. Ay, ay; farewell. Goes in and shuts the door. Whisper peeps after her through the key-hole.] Re-enter Sir JEALOUS TRAFFICK. Sir J. Sure, whilst I was talking with Mr. Tradewell, I heard my door clap. [Seeing Whisper.] Ha! a man lurking about my house! Who do you want there, sir? Whis. Want-want? A plague! Sir Jealous! What must I say now? [Aside. Sir J. Ay, want. Have you a letter or message for anybody there? O'my conscience! this is some he-bawd. Whis. Letter or message, sir? Sir J. Ay; letter or message, sir! Sir J. Sirrah, sirrah! I'll have you set in the stocks if you don't tell your business immediately. Whis. Nay, sir, my business is no great matter of business neither; and yet, 'tis business of consequence too. Sir J. Sirrah, don't trifle with me. Whis. Trifle, sir! have you found him, sir? Whis. Why, Trifle is the very lapdog my lady lost, sir; I fancied I saw him run into this house. I am glad you have found him, sir; my lady will be overjoyed that I have found him. Sir J. Who is your lady, friend ? Sir J. My lady Lovepuppy, sir! then, pr'ythee, carry thyself to her, for I know of no other whelp that belongs to her; and let me catch you no more puppy-hunting about my doors, lest I have you pressed into the service, sirrah! Whis. By no means, sir: your humble servant. I must watch whether he goes or no, before I can tell my master. Aside.-Exit. Sir J. This fellow has the officious leer of a pimp, and I half suspect a design; but I'll be upon them before they think on me, I warrant them. [Erit into the house. SCENE IV.-Charles's Lodgings. Enter CHARLES and MARPLOT. Charies. Honest Marplot, I thank thee for this supply. I expect my lawyer with a thousand pounds I have ordered him to take up, and then you shall be repaid. Mar. Pho, pho! no more of that. Here comes Sir George Airy. Enter Sir GEORGE AIRY. cursedly out of humour at his disappointment. See how he looks! ha, ha, ha! tensions to plots upon women, that I believe I shall never have courage enough to attempt a chambermaid again. I'll tell thee Sir G. Ah, Charles! I am so humbled in my pre Charles. Ha, ha! I'll spare you the relation by telling you: impatient to know your business with my father, when I saw you euter I slipped back into the next room, where I overheard every syllable. Mar. Did you, Charles? I wish I had been with you. Sir G. That I said; but I'll be hauged if you heard her answer. But, pr'ythee, tell me, Charles, is she a fool? Charles. I never suspected her for one; but Marplot can inform you better, if you'll allow him a judge. Mar. A fool! I'll justify she has more wit than all the rest of her sex put together. Why, she'll rally me till I ha'n't a word to say for myself. Charles. A mighty proof of her wit, truly ! Mar. There must be some trick in it, Sir George; egad! I'll find it out, if it cost me the sum you paid for it. Sir G. Do, and command me. Mar. Enough: let me alone to trace a secret. Enter WHISPER, who speaks aside to his master. The devil ! he here again ! don that fellow, he never speaks out. Is this the same, or a new secret?[Aside.] You may speak out, here are none but friends. Charles. Pardon me, Marplot, 'tis a secret. Mar. A secret ! ay, or, ecod! I would not give a farthing for it. Sir George, won't you ask Charles what news Whisper brings? Sir G. Not I, sir; I suppose it does not relate to me. Mar. Lord, lord! how little curiosity some people have! Now my chief pleasure is in knowing everybody's business. [Exit Whisper. Sir G. I fancy, Charles, thou hast some engagement upon thy hands? Mar. Have you, Charles? Sir G. I have a little business too. Sir G. Marplot, if it falls in your way to bring me any intelligence from Miranda, you'll find me at the Thatched-house, at six. Mar. You do me much honour. Charles. You guess right, Sir George; wish me success. [Erit. Sir G. Better than attended me. Adieu. Charles. Marplot, you must excuse me. Mar. Nay, nay; what need of any excuse amongst friends? I'll go with you. Charles. Indeed you must not. Mar. No! then I suppose 'tis a duel; and I will go to secure you. Charles. Well, but 'tis no duel; consequently, no danger; therefore, pr'ythee, be answered. Mar. What is't, a mistress, then? Mum! you know I can be silent upon occasion. Charles. I wish you could be civil too; I tell you, you neither must nor shall go with me. Farewell. Erit. Mar. Why, then, I must and will follow you. [Exit. ACT III. SCENE I-A Street. Enter CHARLES. Charles. Well here's the house which holds the lovely prize, quiet and serene: here no noisy footmen throng to tell the world that beauty dwells within; no ceremonious visit makes the lover wait, no rival to give my heart a pang. Who would not scale the window at midnight without fear of the jealous father's pistol, rather than fill up the train of a coquette, where every minute he is jostled out of place? [Knocks softly.] Mrs. Patch, Mrs. Patch! Enter PATCH from the House. more savage than our parents, and fortune generally assists the bold; therefore, consent now; why should we put it to a future hazard? who knows when we shall have another opportunity? Isa. Oh! you have your ladder of ropes, I suppose; and the closet-window stands just where it did; and, if you ha'n't forgot to write in characters, Patch will find a way for our assignations. Thus much of the Spanish contrivance my father's severity has taught me; I thank him; though I hate the nation, I admire their management in these affairs. Enter PATCH. Patch. Oh, madam! I see my master coming up the street. Charles. Oh, the devil! Would I had my ladder now! I thought you had not expected him till night. Why-why-why-why-what shall I do, madam? Isa. Oh! for heaven's sake, don't go that way! [They go in. you'll meet him full in the teeth. Oh, unlucky moCharles. Adsheart! can you shut me into no cupboard, nor ram me into a chest, eh? Patch. Oh! are you come, sir? All's safe. Enter MARPLOT. Mar. There he goes! Who the devil lives here? Except I find out that, I am as far from knowing his business as ever. Gad! I'll watch; it may be a bawdy-house, and he may have his throat cut. I. there should be any mischief, I can make oath he went in. Well, Charles, in spite of your endeavours to keep me out of the secret, I may save your life, for aught I know. At that corner I'll plant myself; there I shall see whoever goes in or comes out. Gad! [Exit. I love discoveries. Enter CHARLES, ISABINDA, and PATCH. Isa. Patch, look out sharp; have a care of dad. Patch. I warrant you. [Erit. Isa. Well, sir, if I may judge your love by your courage, I ought to believe you sincere; for you venture into the lion's den when you come to see me. Charles. If you'll consent, whilst the furious beast is abroad, I'd free you from the reach of his paws. ment! Patch. Impossible, sir! he searches every hole in the house. Isa. Undone for ever! If he sees you I shall never see you more. Patch. I have thought on it; run you to your chamber, madam; and, sir, come you along with me; I am certain you may easily get down from the balcony. Charles. My life, adieu! Lead on, guide. [Exeunt PATCH and CHARIES. Isa. Heavens preserve him! [Erit. Mar. Mince-meat! Ah, poor Charles! how I sweat for thee! Egad! he's old; I fancy I might bully him, and make Charles have an opinion of my courage. Egad! I'll pluck up, and have a touch with him. Isa. That would be but to avoid one danger by running into another-like poor wretches, who fly the burning ship, and meet their fate in the water. Come, come, Charles; I fear, if I consult my reason, confinement and plenty are better than liberty and starving. I know you would make the frolic pleasing for a little time, by saying and doing a world of tender things; but when our small substance is exhausted, and a thousand requisites for life are want-Jealous.] ing, love, who rarely dwells with poverty, would also fail us. Charles. Faith! I fancy not: methinks my heart has laid up a stock will last for life; to back which, I have taken a thousand pounds upon my uncle's estate; that, surely, will support us till one of our fa thers relent. Isa. There's no trusting to that, my friend: I doubt your father will carry his humour to the grave, and mine till he sees me settied in Spain. Charles. And can you then cruelly resolve to stay till that cursed Don arrives, and suffer that youth, beauty, fire, and wit, to be sacrificed to the arms of a dull Spaniard, to be immured, and forbid the sight of any thing that's human? Isa. No: when it comes to that extremity, and no stratagem can relieve us, thou shalt list for a soldier, and I'll carry thy knapsack after thee. turies. Bravely resolved! the world cannot be [Going up to Sir Sir J. My own key shall let me in; I'll give them no warning. Feeling for his key.] Mar. What's that you say, sir? Sir J. What's that to you, sir? [Turns quick upon him.] Mar. Yes, 'tis to me, sir; for the gentleman you threaten is a very honest gentleman. Look to it; for if he comes not as safe out of your house as he went in Sir J. What! is he in then? Mar. Yes, sir, he is in then; and I say if he does not come out, I have half-a-dozen myrmidons hard by shall beat your house about your ears. Sir J. Ah! a combination to undo me. I'll mrmidon you, ye dog, you! Thieves, thieves! [beats Marplot.] Mar. Murder, murder! I was not in your house, sir. Serv. What's the matter, sir? Sir J. The matter, rascal! you have let a man into my house; but I'll flay him alive. Follow me; Pulch. Nay, I can't imagine, without it was Whisper. I'll not leave a mouse-hole unsearched. If I find him, by St. Jago! I'll equip him for the opera. [Exit. Mar. A deuce of his cane! There's no trusting to age. What shall I do to relieve Charles? Egad! I'll raise the neighbourhood. Murder, murder! [Charles drops down upon him from the balcony.] Charles! faith, I'm glad to see thee safe out, with all my heart! Charles. A plague of your bawling! how the devil came you here? Mar. Egad! it's very well for you that I was here; I have done you a piece of service: I told the old thunderbolt, that the gentleman that was gone in was Charles. Was it you that told him, sir? [Laying hold of him.] 'Sdeath! I could crush thee into atoms. [Exit. Mar. What will you choke me for my kindness? Will my inquiring soul never leave searching into other people's affairs till it gets squeezed out of my body? I dare not follow him now for my blood, he's in such a passion. I'll go to Miranda; if I can discover aught that may oblige Sir George, it may be a means to reconcile me again to Charles. Sir J. [Within.] Look about! search, find him out. SCENE IV.-A Hall in the house of Sir Jealous Isa. Well, dear Patch! let's employ all our thoughts how to escape this horrid Don Diego; my very heart sinks at his terrible name. Patch. Fear not, madam; Don Carlo shall be the man, or I'll lose the reputation of contriving; and then what's a chambermaid good for ? [Exeunt. SCENE V.-Sir Francis Gripe's House. Sir F. To admiration! Thou dear little rogue! let me buss thee for it: nay, adad! I will, chargy, so muzzle, and tuzzle, and hug thee; I will, i'faith! I will. [Hugging and kissing her.] Mir. Nay, gardy, don't be so lavish. Who would ride post when the journey lasts for life? Sir F. Oh, I'm transported! When, when, my dear, wilt thou convince the world of the happy day? when shall we marry, eh? Mir. There's nothing wanting but your consent, Sir Francis. Sir F. My consent! What does my charmer mean? Mir. Nay, 'tis only a whim; but I'll have every thing according to form therefore, when you sign an authentic paper, drawn up by an able lawyer, that I have your leave to marry, the next day makes me your's, gardy. Enter Sir JEALOUS TRAFFICK and his Servants. Sir F. Ha, ha, ha! a whim indeed! why is it not Sir J. Are you sure you have searched every-demonstration I give my leave when I marry thee? where? Serv. Yes, from the top of the house to the bottom. Enter ISABINDA and PATCH. Mir. Not for your reputation, gardy; the malicious world will be apt to say you tricked me into marriage, and so take the merit from my choice: now I will have the act my own, to let the idle fops see how much I prefer a man loaded with years and wisdom. Sir F. Humph! Pr'ythee, leave out years, chargy; I'm not so old, as thou shalt find. Adad! I'm young: Patch. Take courage, madam; I saw him safe there's a caper for ye. [Jumps.] out. [Aside to ISABINDA.] Isa. Bless me! what's the matter, sir? Mir. Oh! never excuse it; why, I like you the better for being old: but I shall suspect you don't Sir J. You know best. Pray, where's the man love me if you refuse me this formality. that was here just now? Isa. What man, sir? I saw none. Patch. Nor I, by the trust you repose in me! Do you think I would let a man come within these doors when you are absent? Sir J. Ah, Patch! she may be too cunning for thy honesty; the very scout that he had set to give warning discovered it to me, and threatened me with half-a-dozen myrmidons; but I think I mauled the villain. These afflictions you draw upon me, mistress. [To ISABINDA.] Isa. Pardon me, sir, 'tis your own ridiculous humour draws you into these vexations, and gives every fool pretence to banter you. Sir J. No, 'tis your idle conduct, your coquettish flirting into the balcony. Oh! with what joy shall I resign thee into the arms of Don Diego Babinetto! Isa. And with what industry shall I avoid him! [Aside.] Sir J. Certainly that rogue had a message from somebody or other, but being balked by my coming popped that sham upon me. Come along, ye sots, let's see if we can find the dog again. Patch, lock her up, d'ye hear? [Exeunt Sir J. and Servants. Patch. Yes, sir. Ay! walk till your heels ache, you'll find nobody, I promise you. I. Who could that scout be he talks of? Sir F. Not love thee, chargy! Adad! I do love better than-than-than-better than-what shall I say? egad! better than money; i'faith, I do. Mir. That's false, I'm sure. [Aside.] To prove it, do this then. Sir F. Well, I will do it, chargy, provided I bring a license at the same time. Mir. Ay! and a parson too, if you please. Ha, ha, ha! I can't help laughing to think how all the young coxcombs about town will be mortified when they hear of our marriage. Sir F. So they will, so they will! ha, ha, ha! Mir. Well, I fancy, I shall be so happy with my gardy! Sir F. If wearing pearls and jewels, or eating gold, as the old saying is, can make thee happy, thou shalt be so, my sweetest, my lovely, my charming, my-verily, I know not what to call thee. Mir. You must know, gardy, that I am so eager to have this business concluded, that I employed my woman's brother, who is a lawyer in the Temple, to settle matters just to your liking; you are to give your consent to my marriage-which is to yourself you know; but, mum! you must take no notice of that. So then I will-that is, with your leave-put my writings into his hands; then to-morrow we come slap upon them with a wedding that nobody |