Mer. Sir, you are heartily welcome. Od’s bobs you are.
Mr. Ven. Welcome to all of us.
Spruce. Seriously, Sir, and so you are.
Mer. But where’s the Bridegroom, Girl? Od’s bobs we’re all at a Nonplus here, at a stand, quite out; the Musicks ceas’d, and we all look as thô there were neither a light Heart or Heel among us; nay, my Cousin Clara too as cloudy as on a washing Day.
Clara. ’Tis then because you will not dance with me, Sir.
Ara. ’Tis I alone have cause to be sad, if this Day’s Happiness cou’d admit of any; But I’ve long reason’d with my pressing Thoughts, and from them drawn some Symptoms of Relief. Suppose this Day hath long since appointed by my dear Bonvile, to meet some Foe, and right his injur’d Reputation: Nay, say he fights, alas! Why shou’d I fear, when all the Powers above, that guard true Love and Innocence, will never see him fall.
Mer. Prethee peace, good Girl hold thy tongue; Od’s bobs thou’lt make us all Cowards, to hear a Woman preach up Valour thus.
Ara. Well, Sir, I have done: But pray entertain this Gentleman kindly for my sake. Indeed I was afraid when I saw him first.
Sum. Ha! what does she say? Od’s Death she’l tell!
Ara. Being in search of my dear Bonvile, I had quite lost my Way when he most opportunely came unto my Aid, and gave me many marks of his Esteem in my distress of Fears; nay more than this, which I’ll declare at large.