Fun. Dolly; what a plague poffeffes the man; this is no Dolly, I tell you. Dr Cat. No! Fun. No this is lady Scachariffa Mackirkincroft. Dr. Cat. Who? Fun. Defcended from the old, old, old earl of Glendowery. Dr. Cat. What fhe, Dolly Mechlin ? Fun. Dolly Devil, the man's out of his wits, I believe. Enter Mrs. MECHLIN. Oh, Mrs. Mechlin, will you fet this matter to rights? Mrs. Mech. How, Dr. Catgut! Fun. The ftrangeft fellow here has danced up ftairs, and has Dolly, Dolly, Dolly'd my lady; who the plague can he be? Dr. Cat. Oh, a-propos, Molly Mechlin, what is this the man that is to be married? the marriage will never hold good; why he is more fran tic and madder Fun. Mad! John, fetch me the foils; I'll carte and tierce you, you fcoundrel. Enter ISAAC FUNGUS and JENNY. I. Fun. Where's brother, it an't over; you be'n't married, I hope. Z. Fun. No, I believe not; why, what is the I. Fun. Pretty hands you are got into! Your fervant, good madam; what this is the perfon, I warrant; ay how pretty the puppet is painted; do you know who fhe is? Z. Fun. Who fhe is? without doubt. I. Fun. I. Fun. No, you don't, brother Zac. only the fpawn of that devil incarnate, dreffed out asZ. Fun. But hark ye, Ifaac, are-don't be in a hurry-are you fure I. Fun. Sure-the girl of the house, abhorring their fcandalous project, has freely confeffed the whole fcheme. Jenny, ftand forth, and anfwer boldly to what I fhall afk: Is not this wench the woman's niece of the house? Jen. I fancy fhe will hardly deny it. I. Fun. And is not this miftrefs of yours a moft profligate Mrs. Mech. Come, come, Mafter Ifaac, I will fave you the trouble, and cut this matter fhort inan inftant:-well then, this girl, this Dolly, is my niece; and what then? Z. Fun. And ar'n't you afhamed? Y. Lov. She afhamed! I would have told you, but I could not get you to liften; why fhe brought me here to marry my mother. Z. Fun. Marry your mother! Lord have mercy on us, what a monfter! to draw a young man in to be guilty of incenfe. But hark ye, brother Ifaac. [They retire. Dr. Cat. Gads my life, what a fweet project I have helped to deftroy; but come, Dolly, I'll piece thy broken fortunes again; thou haft a good pretty voice, I'll teach thee a thrill and a fhake, perch thee amongst the boughs at one of the gardens: and then as a miftrefs, which, as the world goes, is à much better station than that of a wife, not the proudest of them all Mrs. Mech. Miftrefs! No, no, we have not managed our matters fo badly. Hark ye, Mr. Commiffary. Z. Fun. Well, what do you want? Mrs. Mrs. Mech. Do you propofe to confummate your nuptials? Z. Fun. That's a pretty question, indeed. Mrs. Mech. You have no objection then to paying the penalty, the contract here that Mr. Harpy has drawn. Z. Fun. The contract, hey, brother Ifaac. I. Fun. Let me fee it. Mrs. Mech. Soft you there, my maker of candles, it is as well where it is; but you need not doubt of its goodness: I promise you the best advice has been taken. Z. Fun. What a damned fiend, what a harpy! Mrs. Mech. And why fo, my good mafter Fungus; is it because I have practifed that trade by retail which you have carried on in the grofs? What injury do I do the world? I feed on their follies, 'tis true; and the game, the plunder, is fair; but the fangs of you and your tribe, A whole people have felt, and for ages will feel: [Exeunt omnes, FINI S. |