Enter Miss Hoyden, Nurse, Young Fashion, and Bull.
Young Fash. This quick dispatch of yours, Mr. Bull, I take so kindly, it shall give you a claim to my Favour as long as I live, I do assure you.
Miss. And to mine too, I promise you.
Bull. I most humbly thank your Honours; and I hope, since it has been my Lot to join you in the holy Bands of Wedlock, you will so well cultivate the Soil which I have crav'd a Blessing on, that your Children may swarm about you like Bees about a Honey-Comb.
Miss. I'cod with all my Heart, the more the merrier, I say; ha, Nurse.
Enter Lory, taking his Master hastily aside.
Lo. One Word with you, for Heaven's sake.
Young Fash. What the Devil's the matter?
Lo. Sir, your Fortune's ruin'd, and I don't think your Life's worth a quarter of an Hour's Purchase: Yonder's your Brother arriv'd with two Coaches and six Horses, twenty Footmen and Pages, a Coat worth fourscore Pound, and a Perriwig down to his Knees: So judge what will become of your Lady's Heart.
Young Fash. Death and Furies! 'tis impossible.