[Colander discovered arranging table.]
COL. So! malmsey, fruit, tea, coffee, yes! all is ready against their leaving the dining-room!
[Enter James Burdock, a salver with letters in his hand.]
BUR. Post letters, Master Colander.
COL. Put ’em on the salver. (Burdock does so.) You may go, honest Burdock—(Burdock fidgets, turning the letters on the salver) when I say you may go—that means you must; the stable is your place when the family is not in Huntingdonshire, and at present the family is in London.
BUR. And I wish it was in Huntingdonshire, with the best part of it, and that’s mistress. Poor thing! A twelvemonth married, and six months of it as good as a widow.
COL. We write to her, James, and receive her replies.
BUR. Aye! but we don’t read ’em, it seems.
COL. We intend to do so at our leisure—meanwhile we make ourselves happy among the wits and the players.