Patch. Sir George will be impatient, Madam; if their Plot succeeds, we shall be well receiv'd; if not, he will be able to protect us. Besides, I long to know how my young Lady fares.
Miran. Farewell, old Mammon, and thy detested Walls; 'twill be no more sweet Sir Francis, I shall be compell'd to the odious Task of Dissembling no longer to get my own, and coax him with the wheedling Names of my Precious, my Dear, dear Gardee. Oh Heavens!
Enter Sir Francis behind.
Sir Fran. Ah, my sweet Chargee, don't be frighted. (She starts.) But thy poor Gardee has been abused, cheated, fool'd, betray'd, but no Body knows by whom.
Miran. (Aside.) Undone! past Redemption.
Sir Fran. What won't you speak to me, Chargee!
Miran. I'm so surpriz'd with Joy to see you, I know not what to say.
Sir Fran. Poor, dear Girl! But do'e know that my Son, or some such Rogue, to rob or murder me, or both, contriv'd this Journey? For upon the Road I met my Neighbour Squeezum well, and coming to Town.
Miran. Good lack, good lack! what Tricks are there in this World!
Enter Scentwell, with a Diamond Necklace in her Hand; not seeing Sir Francis.