ACT V. SCENE I.

_Enter_ CONSTANCE, ISABELLA, _and_ NONSUCH.

_Const_. This is just the knight's hour; and lovers seldom come after their time.

_Non_. Good night, daughter; I'll to bed, and give you joy to-morrow morning. [_Exit_.

_Isa_. I'm glad he's gone: What, your train takes?

_Const_. Yes, yes; Loveby will come: Setstone has been with him in disguise; and promised him golden mountains, if he will not be wanting to his own fortune.

_Isa_. Is your habit provided too?

_Const_. All is ready.

_Isa_. Away then; for this is the place where we must part like knights errant, that take several paths to their adventures.

_Const_. 'Tis time, for I hear somebody come along the alley; without question 'tis Timorous. Farewell; the chaplain stays for me in the chamber.

_Isa_. And I'll post after you to matrimony; I have laid a fresh parson at the next stage, that shall carry me tantivy.

[_Exit_ CONSTANCE.

_Enter_ BURR _with_ TIMOROUS'S _coat on_.

_Burr_. My lady Constance!

_Isa_. The same: Sir Timorous?

_Burr_. The same.

_Isa_. Sir Timorous takes me for my cousin.

[_Aside_.

_Burr_. My lady Constance mistakes me for the knight.

[_Aside_.

_Isa_. Here, sir; through the dark walk: 'tis but a little way about--He's my own beyond redemption--

[_Aside_.

_Burr_. The Indies are mine; and a handsome lady into the bargain.

[_Excunt_.

_Enter_ FAILER, _dogging them, as they go off_.

_Fail_. He shall be hanged, ere he shall get her. Thus far I have dogged them, and this way I am sure they must pass, ere they come to the house. The rogue had got the old dog-trick of a statesman; to fish things out of wiser heads than his own, and never so much as to take notice of him that gave the counsel--

_Enter ISABELLA and BURR again_.

Now, if I can but give her the hint without his knowledge!--Madam--my lady Constance!

_Isa_. What voice is that?

_Fail_. A word in private, or you are undone--Pray step aside.

_Burr._ Where are you, madam?

_Isa_. Immediately, Sir Timorous.

_Fail_. You are mistaken, madam; 'tis not Sir Timorous, but Burr in his clothes; he has stripped the knight, gagged him, and locked him up.

_Isa_. Failer?

_Fail_. The same. I could not but prevent your unhappiness, though I hazard my person in the discovery, I vow to gad, madam.

_Burr_. Who's that talks to you, my lady Constance?

_Isa_. A maid of my acquaintance, that's come to take her leave of me before I marry; the poor soul does so pity me.

_Burr_. How will that maid lie, thinking of you and me to-night!

_Isa_. Has he the key about him? [_To FAILER_.

_Fail_. I think so, madam.

_Isa_. Could not you possibly pick his pocket, and give me the key? then let me alone to release Sir Timorous; and you shall be witness of the wedding.

_Fail_. Egad, you want your cousin Isabella's wit to bring that to pass, madam.

_Isa_. I warrant you, my own wit will serve to fool Burr--and you too, or I am much deceived. [_Aside_.

_Fail_. I am a little apprehensive of the rascal's fingers, since I felt them last; and yet my fear has not power to resist the sweet temptation of revenge; I vow to gad I'll try, madam.

_Isa_. Never fear; let me alone to keep him busy.

_Burr_. Come, madam, and let me take off these tasteless kisses the maid gave you; may we not join lips before we are married?

_Isa_. No; fie, Sir Timorous.

[_They struggle a little, and in that time FAILER picks his pocket of the key_.

_Fail_. I have it--here it is--now, shift for yourself, as I'll do; I'll wait you in the alley.

[_Exit_.

_Isa_. Sir Timorous, pray go into my chamber, and make no noise till I return; I'll but fetch the little man of God, and follow you in a twinkling.

_Burr_. There's no light, I hope?

_Isa_. Not a spark.

_Burr_. For to light me to the mark--

[_Exit_.

_Isa_. What a scowering have I 'scaped to-night! Fortune, 'tis thou hast been ingenious for me! Allons, Isabella! Courage! now to deliver my knight from the enchanted castle.

[_Exit_.

_Enter LOVEBY, led by SETSTONE, antickly habited; with a torch in one hand, and a wand in the other_.

_Lov_. What art thou, that hast led me this long hour through lanes and alleys, and blind passages?

_Set_. I am thy genius; and conduct thee to wealth, fame, and honour; what thou comest to do, do boldly; fear not; with this rod I charm thee; and neither elf nor goblin now can harm thee.

_Lov_. Well, march on; if thou art my genius, thou art bound to be answerable for me; I'll have thee hanged, if I miscarry.

_Set_. Fear not, my son.

_Lov_. Fear not, quotha! then, pr'ythee, put on a more familiar shape:--one of us two stinks extremely: Pr'ythee, do not come so near me; I do not love to have my face bleached like a tiffany with thy brimstone.

_Set_. Fear not, but follow me.

_Lov_. 'Faith, I have no great mind to't; I am somewhat godly at present; but stay a month longer, and I'll be proud, and fitter for thee. In the mean time, pr'ythee, stay thy stomach with some Dutchman; an Hollander, with butter, will fry rarely in hell.

_Set_. Mortal, 'tis now too late for a retreat; go on, and live; step back, and thou art mine.

_Lorn_. So I am, however, first or last; but for once I'll trust thee. [_Exeunt_.