Col. He bear away Lucy—you are deceived.
Gray. No, you are deceived, old man—you are deceived; but let to-morrow shew, I’ll not ’cumber your room, master Collins; I leave it to more gay visitors than Ned Grayling; I leave it till to-morrow—good-night—good-night, gay master Gwinett,—a pleasant night’s rest—ha! ha! ha!
[Exit L.
Lucy. Dear uncle, is not this sufficient excuse for my aversion.
Col. No matter, we’ll talk more of this to-morrow. Go to your chamber, girl. (Music.—Lucy goes off. R.) and now, sir, we will to ours.
[Music.—Exeunt R.
SCENE IV.—Another Room in the Blake’s Head.
Enter Gilbert, with lamp. R.
Gil. Well, I’ve looked all through the house, fastened the doors, hung up the keys, and now have nothing to do but to go and sleep until called up by the cock. Well I never saw love make so much alteration in any poor mortal as in master Grayling—he used to be a quiet, plain spoken civil fellow—but now he comes into a house like a hurricane. I wonder what that letter was about, it bothers me strangely—well, no matter—I’ll now go to bed—I’ll go across the stable yard to my loft, and sleep so fast that I’ll get ten hours into six.
[Exit L.