SCENE III.

_Enter the_ LADY LOVEALL, MASTER SAD _and_ CONSTANT, _undressed, and buttoning themselves as they go_.

SAD. Married?

CON. And to them?

LOVE. Ay, married, if you prevent it not: catched with a trick, an old stale trick; I have seen a ballad on't.

SAD. We shall go near to prevent 'em. Boy, my sword.

_Enter_ CAPTAIN.

CAPT. Whither so fast?

SAD. You guess.

CAPT. If you mean the wedding, you come too late.

CON. Why, are they married?

CAPT. No, but lustily promised.

SAD. We may come time enough to be revenged, though----

CAPT. Upon whom? yourselves, for you are only guilty. Who carried them thither last night? who laid the plot for the coachman?

SAD. Why, do they know it?

LOVE. Well, you'll find the poet a rogue, 'tis he that has betrayed you; and if you'll take my counsel, be revenged upon him.

CON. Nay, we were told he did not love us.

CAPT. By my life, you wrong him: upon my knowledge, the poet meant you should have them.

SAD. Why, who had the power to hinder, then?

CAPT. I know not where the fault lies directly: they say the wits of the town would not consent to't; they claim a right in the ladies as orphan wits.

CON. The wits! hang 'em in their strong lines.

CAPT. Why, ay, such a clinch as that has undone you, and upon my knowledge 'twere enough to hinder your next match.

SAD. Why, what have they to do with us?

CAPT. I know not what you have done to disoblige them, but they crossed it: there was amongst 'em too a pair of she-wits, something stricken in years; they grew in fury at the mention of it, and concluded you both with an authority out of a modern author: besides, 'tis said you run naturally into the sixpenny-room, and steal sayings, and a discourse more than your pennyworth of jests every term. Why, just now you spit out one jest stolen from a poor play, that has but two more in five acts; what conscience is there in't, knowing how dear we pay poets for our plays?

CON. 'Twas madam with the ill face, one of those whom you refused to salute the other day at Chipp's house: a cheesecake had saved all this.

LOVE. Why do you not make haste about your business, but lose time with this babbler?

SAD. Madam, will you give us leave to make use of your coach?

LOVE. You may command it, sir: when you have done, send him to the Exchange, where I'll despatch a little business, and be with you immediately.

[_Exeunt all but the_ CAPTAIN.

CAPT. So, this fire is kindled; put it out that can. What would not I give for a peeper's place at the meeting? I'll make haste, and it shall go hard, but I'll bear my part of the mirth too.

[_Exit._