Rose. A fool's plot may be as lucky as a fool's handsel; 'tis a very likely one, and requires nothing for your part, but to get a parson in the next room; we'll find work for him.
L. Dupe. That shall be done immediately; Christian, make haste, and send for Mr Ball, the non-conformist; tell him, here are two or three angels to be earned.
Chr. And two or three possets to be eaten: May I not put in that, madam?
L. Dupe. Surely you may.
[Exit Chr.
Rose. Then for the rest—'tis only this—Oh! they are here! pray take it in a whisper: My lady knows of it already.
Enter Moody, Sir John, and Mrs Millisent.
Mill. Strike up again, fiddle, I'll have a French dance.
Sir John. Let's have the brawls.
Mood. No, good sir John, no quarrelling among friends.
L. Dupe. Your company is like to be increased, sir; some neighbours, that heard your fiddles, are come a mumming to you.