SCENE VII.
Enter Sir Amadin Puny, Sir Jasper Simpleton, Sir Arthur Heartless, Sir Gregory Shapeless, Sir Tristram Shorttool, Sir Reuben Scattergood.
Sir Reu. Doubt nothing, my fellow-knights of Hornsey; the plot is so neatly and nimbly laid as it cannot but hold stitch.
All. But be the favourites' suits got, Sir Reuben?
Sir Reu. They are brought to our lodgings already. To try a conclusion, I have most fortunately made their pages our 'coys by the influence of a white powder, which has wrought so powerfully on their tender pulse, as they have engaged themselves ours back and edge. Sunt munera vincula servis.
Sir Tris. 'Tis true, but how shall we pursue this project, that we may act to purpose what your ingenuity has contrived?
Sir Reu. Leave that to me; be it your care to follow my direction, and if I make not these haxters as hateful to our hussies as ever they were to us who were their husbands, set me up for a Jack-a-Lent or a Shrove-cock for every boy to throw at! The net is spread, and if they 'scape the noose, they must have more eyes than their own to discover it.
Sir Ama. Excellent, excellent! I long till I be at work.
Sir Reu. It will admit no delay, Sir Amadin, I assure you. We have not overwatched this night to no purpose. This very morning by times we must be fitted with our properties, and with a scornful neglect pass by that rendezvous where our gamesome ladies expect their youthful Platonics.