Young Fash. All this I intend for you, Doctor. What you are to do for me, I need not tell you.
Bull. Your Worship's Goodness is unspeakable: Yet there is one thing seems a Point of Conscience; and Conscience is a tender Babe. If I shou'd bind myself, for the sake of this Living, to marry Nurse, and maintain her afterwards, I doubt it might be look'd on as a kind of Simony.
Coup. [Rising up.] If it were Sacrilege, the Living's worth it: Therefore no more Words, good Doctor: but with the [Giving Nurse to him.] Parish——here——take the Parsonage-house. 'Tis true, 'tis a little out of Repair; some Dilapidations there are to be made good; the Windows are broke, the Wainscot is warp'd, the Ceilings are peel'd, and the Walls are crack'd; but a little Glasing, Painting, White-wash, and Plaster, will make it last thy time.
Bull. Well, Sir, if it must be so, I shan't contend: What Providence orders, I submit to.
Nurse. And so do I, with all Humility.
Coup. Why, that now was spoke like good People. Come, my Turtle-Doves, let us go help this poor Pigeon to his wandering Mate again: and after Institution and Induction, you shall all go a-cooing together.
[Exeunt.
Enter Amanda, in a Scarf, &c. as just returned, her Woman following her.
Aman. Pr'ythee, what care I who has been here?