Con. Sir!—
Neighbour, a pleasant ride to Lincolnshire!
Good-bye!
Sir Wil. [Without.] Why, Constance!
Con. Coming, sir. Shake hands!
Neighbour, good-bye! Don’t look so woe-begone;
’Tis but a two-days’ ride, and thou wilt see
Rover, and Spot, and Nettle, and the rest
Of thy dear country friends!
Sir Wil. [Without.] Constance! I say.
Con. Anon!—Commend me to the gentle souls,
And pat them for me!—Will you, neighbour Wildrake?
Sir Wil. [Without.] Why, Constance! Constance!
Con. In a moment, sir!
Good-bye!—I’d cry, dear neighbour—if I could!
Good-bye!—A pleasant day when next you hunt!
And, prithee, mind thy horse don’t balk his leap!
Good-bye!—and, after dinner, drink my health!
“A bumper, sirs, to neighbour Constance!”—Do!—
And give it with a speech, wherein unfold
My many graces, more accomplishments,
And virtues topping either—in a word,
How I’m the fairest, kindest, best of neighbours!
[They go out severally.—Trueworth trying to pacify Wildrake—Constance laughing.]