Lady L. Oh lord, sir, it is my husband! What will become of you?
Clinch. sen. Ah, your husband! Oh, I shall be murdered! What shall I do? Where shall I run? I'll creep into an oven—I'll climb up the chimney—I'll fly—I'll swim;——I wish to the lord I were at the Jubilee now.
Lady L. Can't you think of any thing, sir?
Clinch. sen. Think! not I; I never could think to any purpose in my life.
Lady L. What do you want, sir?
Enter Tom Errand.
Tom. Madam, I am looking for Sir Harry Wildair; I saw him come in here this morning; and did imagine he might be here still, if he is not gone.
Lady L. A lucky hit! Here, friend, change clothes with this gentleman, quickly, strip.
Clinch. sen. Ay, ay, quickly strip; I'll give you half a crown to boot. Come here; so.
[They change Clothes.