Miran. Not yet, but I design it one shall last its Life-time: Nay, you shall not see it— Look, Gardee, how he teazes me!
Sir Fran. (Getting between him and the Chimney.) Sirrah, Sirrah, let my Chargee's Monkey alone, or Bambo shall fly about your Ears. What is there no dealing with you?
Marpl. Pugh, pox of the Monkey! here's a Rout: I wish he may Rival you.
Enter a Servant.
Serv. Sir, they put two more Horses in the Coach, as you order'd, and 'tis ready at the Door.
Sir Fran. Well, I'm going to be Executor, better for thee, Jewel. B'ye Chargee, one Buss!— I'm glad thou hast got a a Monkey to divert thee a little.
Miran. Thank'e, dear Gardee.— Nay, I'll see you to the Coach.
Sir Fran. That's kind, adod.
Miran. Come along, Impertinence.
(To Marplot.