Fra. My footman shall pretend himselfe the Surgeon
To attend me; is't not rare?
Stand but to'th fate of this, and if it faile
I will sitt downe a Convert and renounce
All wanton hope hereafter. Deerest Madam,
If you did meane before this honour to me,
Let not your loving thoughts freeze in a Minuit.
My genius is a prophet.
Do. Sir Richard, Madam, Is comeing this way.
Fra. Shall I hope agen?
La. I wo'not say you shall despaire.
Fra. You blesse me. [Exit.
Do. My busines is a foote; your Jewell, Madam, Will credit much the cause.
La. Wee will withdraw And let me know how you have cast the plott.
[Exeunt.
(SCENE 3.)
Enter Sir Richard, opening a Letter; a Footman waiting.