Geo. There, drag away this Brute. Disarms him. To the Footman.
Sir Mer. Rogues, Dogs, bring Mrs. Teresia along with you.
Ter. Sure this is my fine Fellow—and yet the very same that’s to be married to my Grandmother; nor can that City Habit hide the Gentleman. George speaks this while with his Father, who embraces him.
Sir Morg. Burnt, say you, Mrs. Teresia, de see—my Lady Mirtilla burnt! Nay, then, ’tis time to go to sleep, get sober, and marry again. Goes out.
Sir Row. Enough, my Boy, enough; thou deserv’st my whole Estate, and thou shalt have it, Boy—This day thou shalt marry the Widow, and I her Grand-child. I’ll to my Lawyers, and settle all upon thee instantly. Goes out.
Geo. How, marry to day—Old Gentleman, you must be cozen’d; and, Faith, that goes against my Conscience—Ha, the Fair, the Young Teresia there—When a man’s bent upon Wickedness, the Devil never wants an Opportunity to present him with, that she shou’d be in my way now—Fair Creature, are you resolv’d to be my Mother-in-law?
Ter. As sure as you to be my Grandfather, Sir—And see—the News of your being come, has rais’d my Grandmother.
Enter Lettice, [my Lady’s maid], and Lady Youthly.
Geo. A Pox upon her, her Ghost had been less frightful.
Ter. I cou’d have spar’d her now too; but see she advances as swift as Time.