Care. No, faith, madam, his man forgot it, till the carriers were gone last week.
Wild. Will that serve?
Plea. Yes, yes, pray do us the favour to let us have it, 'tis but washing of it again.
Wild. Nay, it will serve: discourse no more; I'll fetch the bundle; and, prythee, fetch the combs and looking-glasses I bought the other day: for other necessaries that want a name the wench shall furnish you with.
Wid. Nay, but where is she, nephew?
Wild. I'll call her, if she be not gone to bed. It is an ignorant young thing; I am to send her to my sister's in the country; I have had such ado to put her in the fashion.
Plea. What country is she? Prythee, Master Wild, let's see her.
Wild. I'll call her down.
[Exit Wild.
Sad. Madam, now we see y' are safe, we'll kiss your hands, and wait upon you to-morrow.