Sir _Geo._ Let us improve it then, and settle on our coming Years, endless, endless Happiness.

_Miran._ I dare not stir till I hear he's on the Road--then I and my Writings, the most material point, are soon removed.

Sir _Geo._ I have one Favour to ask, if it lies in your power, you wou'd be a Friend to poor _Charles_, tho' the Son of this tenacious Man: He is as free from all his Vices, as Nature and a good Education can make him; and what now I have vanity enough to hope will induce you, he is the Man on Earth I love.

_Miran._ I never was his Enemy, and only put it on as it help'd my Designs on his Father. If his Uncle's Estate ought to be in his Possession, which I shrewdly suspect, I may do him a singular piece of Service.

Sir _Geo._ You are all Goodness.

_Enter _Scentwell_._

_Scentw._ Oh, Madam, my Master and Mr. _Marplot_ are just coming into the House.

_Miran._ Undone, undone! if he finds you here in this Crisis, all my Plots are unravell'd.

Sir _Geo._ What shall I do! can't I get back into the Garden?

_Scentw._ Oh, no! he comes up those Stairs.

_Miran._ Here, here, here! can you condescend to stand behind this Chimney-Board, Sir _George?_

Sir _Geo._ Any where, any where, dear Madam, without Ceremony.

_Scentw._ Come, come, Sir; lie close-- (_They put him behind the Chimney-Board._

_Enter Sir _Francis_ and _Marplot_: Sir _Francis_ peeling an Orange_._

Sir _Fran._ I cou'd not go, tho' 'tis upon Life and Death, without taking leave of dear _Chargee_. Besides, this Fellow buz'd in my Ears, that thou might'st be so desperate to shoot that wild Rake which haunts the Garden-Gate; and that wou'd bring us into Trouble, dear--

_Miran._ So, _Marplot_ brought you back then: I am oblig'd to him for that, I'm sure-- (_Frowning at _Marplot_ aside._

_Marpl._ By her Looks she means she is not oblig'd to me. I have done some Mischief now, but what I can't imagine.

Sir _Fran._ Well, _Chargee_, I have had three Messengers to come to _Epsom_ to my Neighbour _Squeezum_'s who, for all his vast Riches, is departing.

(_Sighs._

_Marpl._ Ay, see what all you Usurers must come to.

Sir _Fran._ Peace, ye young Knave! Some Forty Years hence I may think on't--But, _Chargee_, I'll be with thee to Morrow, before those pretty Eyes are open; I will, I will, _Chargee_, I'll rouze you, I saith.--Here Mrs. _Scentwell_, lift up your Lady's Chimney-Board, that I may throw my Peel in, and not litter her Chamber.

_Miran._ Oh my Stars! what will become of us now?

_Scentw._ Oh, pray Sir, give it me; I love it above all things in Nature, indeed I do.

Sir _Fran._ No, no, Hussy; you have the Green Pip already, I'll have no more Apothecary's Bills.

(_Goes towards the Chimney._

_Miran._ Hold, hold, hold, dear _Gardee_, I have a, a, a, a, a Monkey shut up there; and if you open it before the Man comes that is to tame it, 'tis so wild 'twill break all my China, or get away, and that wou'd break my Heart; for I am fond on't to Distraction, next thee, dear _Gardee_.

(_In a flattering Tone._

Sir _Fran._ Well, well, _Chargee_, I wont open it; she shall have her Monkey, poor Rogue; here throw this Peel out of the Window.

(_Exit _Scentwell_._

_Marpl._ A Monkey, dear Madam, let me see it; I can tame a Monkey as well as the best of them all. Oh how I love the little Minatures of Man.

_Miran._ Be quiet, Mischief, and stand farther from the Chimney--You shall not see my Monkey--why sure-- (_Striving with him._

_Marpl._ For Heaven's sake, dear Madam, let me but peep, to see if it be as pretty as my Lady _Fiddle-Faddle_'s. Has it got a Chain?

_Miran._ Not yet, but I design it one shall last its Life-time: Nay, you shall not see it--Look, _Gardee_, how he teazes me!

Sir _Fran._ (_Getting between him and the Chimney._) Sirrah, Sirrah, let my _Chargee_'s Monkey alone, or _Bambo_ shall fly about your Ears. What is there no dealing with you?

_Marpl._ Pugh, pox of the Monkey! here's a Rout: I wish he may Rival you.

_Enter a Servant._

_Serv._ Sir, they put two more Horses in the Coach, as you order'd, and 'tis ready at the Door.

Sir _Fran._ Well, I'm going to be Executor, better for thee, Jewel. B'ye _Chargee_, one Buss!--I'm glad thou hast got a a Monkey to divert thee a little.

_Miran._ Thank'e, dear _Gardee_.--Nay, I'll see you to the Coach.

Sir _Fran._ That's kind, adod.

_Miran._ Come along, Impertinence.

(_To _Marplot_._

_Marpl._ (_Stepping back._) Egad, I will see the Monkey: Now (_Lifts up the Board, and discovers Sir_ George_._) Oh Lord, Oh Lord! Thieves, Thieves, Murder!

Sir _Geo._ Dam'e, you unlucky Dog! 'tis I, which way shall I get out, shew me instantly, or I'll cut your Throat.

_Marpl._ Undone, undone! At that Door there. But hold, hold, break that China, and I'll bring you off.

(_He runs off at the Corner, and throws down some China._

_Re-enter Sir _Francis_, _Miranda_, and _Scentwell_._

Sir _Fran._ Mercy on me! what's the matter?

_Miran._ Oh, you Toad! what have you done?

_Marpl._ No great harm, I beg of you to forgive me: Longing to see the Monkey, I did but just raise up the Board, and it flew over my Shoulders, scratch'd all my Face, broke yon' China, and whisk'd out of the Window.

Sir _Fran._ Was ever such an unlucky Rogue! Sirrah, I forbid you my House. Call the Servants to get the Monkey again; I wou'd stay my self to look it, but that you know my earnest Business.

_Scentw._ Oh my Lady will be the best to lure it back; all them Creatures love my Lady extremely.

_Miran._ Go, go, dear _Gardee_; I hope I shall recover it.