A trifling kiss you'll scarcely miss, you know.
I saw a ready pardon seal'd already in your eyes,
Else, 'pon my soul! I had not ventur'd so.
(Cab stops suddenly at the door. Miss S. looks out alarmed. Loud knocking. Alarum.)
Miss S.—Lost—lost for ever!
Mr. C. Pray, madam, what's the matter?
Miss S.—Heard ye no broadsword on the pavement clatter?
Mr. C.—A broadsword! Zounds! My teeth begin to chatter!
Miss S.—Where shall I hide him?—(Opens the chamber door.)—In, sir, or you 're dead.
Mr. C.—Can nothing save me?
Miss S. Creep beneath the bed.
(Door opens. Mags peeps in.)
Mags.—She's quite alone. Oh, happy Matthew Mags!
(Maid-servant enters.)
Maid.—A chap's below who says he's Samuel Snags.
Mags.—I'm a done man; for that 'ere cove will blow me.
Miss S.—Follow me in, and I will safely stow ye.