Marpl. You have Reason to be transported, Sir George; I have sav'd your Life.
Sir Geo. My Life! thou hast sav'd my Soul, Man. Charles, if thou do'st not pledge this Health, may'st thou never taste the Joys of Love.
Char. Whisper, be sure you take care how you deliver this (gives him the Letter) bring me the Answer to my Lodgings.
Whisp. I warrant you, Sir.
(Exit.
Marpl. Whither does that Letter go?— Now dare I not ask for my Blood.
Char. Now I'm for you.
Sir Geo. To the Garden-Gate at the Hour of Eight, Charles, along, Huzza!
Char. I begin to conceive you.
Marpl. That's more than I do, Egad—to the Garden-Gate, Huzza, (Drinks.) But I hope you design to keep far enough off on't, Sir George.