Volume Iii Part 64 (2/2)

Sir _Cau_. 'Tis so, ay, ay, 'tis so--and wise Men will perceive it; 'tis here--here in my forehead, it more than buds; it sprouts, it flourishes.

Sir _Feeb_. So, that young Gentleman has nettled him, stung him to the quick: I hope he'll chain her up--the Gad-Bee's in his Quonundrum--in Charity I'll relieve him--Come, my Lady _Fulbank_, the Night grows old upon our hands; to dancing, to jiggiting--Come, shall I lead your Ladys.h.i.+p?

L. _Ful_. No, Sir, you see I am better provided-- [_Takes_ Gayman's _hand_.

Sir _Cau_. Ay, no doubt on't, a Pox on him for a young handsome Dog.

[_They dance all_.

Sir _Feeb_. Very well, very well, now the Posset; and then--ods bobs, and then--

_Dia_. And then we'll have t'other Dance.

Sir _Feeb_. Away, Girls, away, and steal the Bride to Bed; they have a deal to do upon their Wedding-nights; and what with the tedious Ceremonies of dressing and undressing, the s.m.u.tty Lectures of the Women, by way of Instruction, and the little Stratagems of the young Wenches --odds bobs, a Man's cozen'd of half his Night: Come, Gentlemen, one Bottle, and then--we'll toss the Stocking.

[_Exeunt all but L_. Ful. Bred, _who are talking, and_ Gayman.

L. _Ful_. But dost thou think he'll come?

_Bred_. I do believe so, Madam--

L. _Ful_. Be sure you contrive it so, he may not know whither, or to whom he comes.

_Bred_. I warrant you, Madam, for our Parts.

[_Exit_ Bredwel, _stealing out_ Gayman.

L. _Ful_. How now, what, departing?

_Gay_. You are going to the Bride-Chamber.

L. _Ful_. No matter, you shall stay--

_Gay_. I hate to have you in a Croud.

L. _Ful_. Can you deny me--will you not give me one lone hour i'th'

Garden?

_Gay_. Where we shall only tantalize each other with dull kissing, and part with the same Appet.i.te we met--No, Madam; besides, I have business--

L. _Ful_. Some a.s.signation--is it so indeed?

_Gay_. Away, you cannot think me such a Traitor; 'tis more important business--

L. _Ful_. Oh, 'tis too late for business--let to morrow serve.

_Gay_. By no means--the Gentleman is to go out of Town.

L. _Ful_. Rise the earlier then--

_Gay_.--But, Madam, the Gentleman lies dangerously--sick--and should he die--

<script>