Burlesque Plays and Poems

by Unknown

Hum. Right worshipful and my beloved friend,

And father dear, this matter's at an end.

Merch. 'Tis well, it should be so, I'm glad the girl

Is found so tractable.

Hum. Nay, she must whirl

From hence (and you must wink: for so I say,

The story tells), to-morrow before day.

Wife. George, dost thou think in thy conscience now 'twill be a match? tell me but what thou thinkest, sweet rogue, thou seest the poor gentleman (dear heart) how it labours and throbs I warrant you, to be at rest: I'll go move the father for't.

Cit. No, no, I prithee sit still, honeysuckle, thou'lt spoil all; if he deny him, I'll bring half a dozen good fellows myself, and in the shutting of an evening knock it up, and there's an end.