Miss Hoyd. Why, you ugly thing, what would you have him call us—dog and cat?

Lord Fop. By no means, miss; for that sounds ten times more like man and wife than t’other.

Sir Tun. A precious rogue this to come a-wooing!

Re-enter Servant.

Ser. There are some gentlefolks below to wait upon Lord Foppington.

[Exit.

Col. Town. ’Sdeath, Tom, what will you do now?

[Aside to Tom Fashion.

Lord Fop. Now, Sir Tunbelly, here are witnesses who I believe are not corrupted.

Sir Tun. Peace, fellow!—Would your lordship choose to have your guests shown here, or shall they wait till we come to ’em?

Fash. I believe, Sir Tunbelly, we had better not have these visitors here yet.—[Aside.] Egad, all must out.

Love. Confess, confess; we’ll stand by you.

[Aside to Tom Fashion.

Lord Fop. Nay, Sir Tunbelly, I insist on your calling evidence on both sides—and if I do not prove that fellow an impostor——

Fash. Brother, I will save you the trouble, by now confessing that I am not what I have passed myself for.—Sir Tunbelly, I am a gentleman, and I flatter myself a man of character; but ’tis with great pride I assure you I am not Lord Foppington.

Sir Tun. Ouns!—what’s this?—an impostor?—a cheat?—fire and faggots, sir, if you are not Lord Foppington, who the devil are you?

Fash. Sir, the best of my condition is, I am your son-in-law; and the worst of it is, I am brother to that noble peer.

Lord Fop. Impudent to the last, Gad dem me!

Sir Tun. My son-in-law! not yet, I hope.

Fash. Pardon me, sir; thanks to the goodness of your chaplain, and the kind offices of this gentlewoman.

Lory. ’Tis true indeed, sir; I gave your daughter away, and Mrs. Nurse, here, was clerk.

Sir Tun. Knock that rascal down!—But speak, Jezebel, how’s this?

Nurse. Alas! your honour, forgive me; I have been over-reached in this business as well as you. Your worship knows, if the wedding-dinner had been ready, you would have given her away with your own hands.

Sir Tun. But how durst you do this without acquainting me?