Isa. That which I am very loth to do. Send for honest Jack Loveby, and let him know the truth on't: He's a fellow without a fortune, and will be glad to leap at the occasion.
Non. But why Loveby, of all the world? 'Tis but staying 'till to-morrow, and then Sir Timorous will marry her.
Const. Uh!—I swell so fast, I cannot hide it 'till to-morrow.
Isa. Why, there's it now!
Non. I'll send for the old alderman, Getwell, immediately: He'll father the devil's bastard, I warrant you.
Isa. Fie, uncle! my cousin's somewhat too good yet for an alderman. If it were her third child, she might hearken to you.
Non. Well, since it must be so, Setstone, go you to Loveby; make my excuse to him for the arrest, and let him know, what fortune may attend him.
Isa. Mr Setstone, pray acquaint him with my cousin's affection to him; and prepare him to father the cushion underneath her petticoat.
[Aside to SETSTONE. Exit.]
Set. I'll bring him immediately.