Lo. Fiends and Spectres! Sir, 'tis true.
Young Fash. Is he in the House yet?
Lo. No, they are capitulating with him at the Gate; the Porter tells him, he's come to run away with Miss Hoyden, and has cock'd the Blunderbuss at him; your Brother swears Gad Damme, they are a parcel of Clawns, and he had a good mind to break off the Match; but they have given the Word for Sir Tunbelly, so I doubt all will come out presently. Pray, Sir, resolve what you'll do this Moment, for I'gad they'll maul you.
Young Fash. Stay a little. [To Miss.] My Dear, here's a troublesome Business my Man tells me of; but don't be frighten'd, we shall be too hard for the Rogue. Here's an impudent Fellow at the Gate (not knowing I was come hither incognito) has taken my Name upon him, in hopes to run away with you.
Miss. O the Brazen-fac'd Varlet, it's well we are married, or may be we might never have been so.
Young Fash. [Aside.] I'gad, like enough: Pr'ythee, dear Doctor, run to Sir Tunbelly, and stop him from going to the Gate, before I speak with him.
Bull. I fly, my good Lord——
[Exit Bull.
Nurse. An't please your Honour, my Lady and I had best lock ourselves up till the Danger be over.
Young Fash. Ay, by all means.