Sir Fran. I cou'd not go, tho' 'tis upon Life and Death, without taking leave of dear Chargee. Besides, this Fellow buz'd in my Ears, that thou might'st be so desperate to shoot that wild Rake which haunts the Garden-Gate; and that wou'd bring us into Trouble, dear—
Miran. So, Marplot brought you back then: I am oblig'd to him for that, I'm sure—
(Frowning at Marplot aside.
Marpl. By her Looks she means she is not oblig'd to me. I have done some Mischief now, but what I can't imagine.
Sir Fran. Well, Chargee, I have had three Messengers to come to Epsom to my Neighbour Squeezum's who, for all his vast Riches, is departing.
(Sighs.
Marpl. Ay, see what all you Usurers must come to.
Sir Fran. Peace, ye young Knave! Some Forty Years hence I may think on't— But, Chargee, I'll be with thee to Morrow, before those pretty Eyes are open; I will, I will, Chargee, I'll rouze you, I saith.— Here Mrs. Scentwell, lift up your Lady's Chimney-Board, that I may throw my Peel in, and not litter her Chamber.
Miran. Oh my Stars! what will become of us now?
Scentw. Oh, pray Sir, give it me; I love it above all things in Nature, indeed I do.