Mrs. Clack. Here, here, step out upon the Stair-case, and slip into my Chamber. [Going out, returns in fright.
Fop. Owns, he’s here; lock the Door fast; let him not enter.
Mrs. Clack. Oh, Heavens, I have not the Key! hold it, hold it fast, sweet, sweet Mr. Foppington. Oh, should there be Murder done, what a Scandal wou’d that be to the House of a true Protestant! [Knocks.
Charl. Heavens! what will he say or think, to see me shut in with a Man?
Mrs. Clack. Oh, I’ll say you’re sick, asleep, or out of Humour.
Charl. I’d give the World to see him. [Knocks.
Wild. [Without,] Charlot, Charlot! am I deny’d an entrance? By Heaven, I’ll break the Door. [Knocks again; Fop. still holding it.
Fop. Oh, I’m a dead Man, dear Clacket! [Knocking still.
Mrs. Clack. Oh, hold, Sir, Mrs. Charlot is very sick.
Wild. How, sick, and I kept from her!