Outside of Shop.—Shop shut up, with “Cotton, hosier, &c.” written on it.—The shop door to open.—Stage dark.
Enter BOLT and MIZZLE.
BOLT. Ha! ha! ha! ha! ha!
MIZ. Yes, you may ha! ha! ha!—but I don’t see anything to ha! ha! at—No, nor to ho! ho! at neither. I have done with fun for ever.
BOLT. Oh! don’t say so! we are all right, you know. Have not I got through beautifully? steered through all the windings and intricacies? Do you suppose a skilful coachman would give a fig for a drive on a smooth road?—No! it is turning the sharp corners that displays ingenuity.
MIZ. Ah! but don’t let me be on the box with the said ingenious coachman.
BOLT. To be sure it was lucky we overtook young Rattle, with his gig;—if he had not given us a lift, we should not have been home till breakfast time.
MIZ. No!—and master would. A pretty figure we should have cut, if we’d arrived in time to find him opening the shutters.
BOLT. Well! we’ll go in. (Feels in his pocket.) Here is the key—No! curse it, there is not!—nor in this pocket!—nor in that!—Bobby, did I give you the key?
MIZ. No! (feeling.) No—I have not got it!