ving chose your Father for Better for
Worse?

_Char._ So: There's another of Fortune's Strokes; I suppose I shall be
Edg'd out of my Estate, with Twins every Year, let who will get 'em.

Sir _Geo._ What is the Woman really Possest?

_Marpl._ Yes with the Spirit of Contradiction, she rail'd at you most
prodigiously.

Sir _Geo._ That's no ill Sign.

_Enter _Whisper_, with Pen, Ink and Paper._

_Marpl._ You'd say it was no good Sign, if you knew all.

Sir _Geo._ Why, prithee?

_Marpl._ Hark'e, Sir _George_, Let me warn you, pursue your old Haunt no
more, it may be dangerous.
(Charles _sits down to write._

Sir _Geo._ My old Haunt, what d'you mean?

_Marpl._ Why in short then, since you will have it, _Miranda_ vows if
you dare approach the Garden-Gate at Eight a Clock, as you us'd, you
shall be saluted with a Blunderbuss, Sir. These were her Words; nay, she
bid me tell you so too.

Sir _George_, Ha! The Garden-Gate at Eight, as I us'd to do! There must
be a Meaning in this. Is there such a Gate, _Charles?_

_Char._ Yes, yes; it opens into the Park, I suppose her Ladyship has
made many a Scamper through it.

Sir _Geo_. It must be an Assignation then. Ha, my Heart springs with
Joy, 'tis a propitious Omen. My dear _Marplot_, let me embrace thee,
thou art my Friend, my better Angel--

_Marpl._ What do you mean, Sir _George?_

Sir _Geo._ No matter what I mean. Here take a Bumper to the Garden-Gate,
ye dear Rogue, you.

_Marpl._ You have Reason to be transported, Sir _George_; I have sav'd
your Life.

Sir _Geo_. My Life! thou hast sav'd my Soul, Man. _Charles_, if thou
do'st not pledge this Health, may'st thou never taste the Joys of Love.

_Char._ _Whisper_, be sure you take care how you deliver this (_gives
him the Letter_) bring me the Answer to my Lodgings.

_Whisp._ I warrant you, Sir.
(_Exit._

_Marpl._ Whither does that Letter go?--Now dare I not ask for my Blood.

_Char._ Now I'm for you.

Sir _Geo._ To the Garden-Gate at the Hour of Eight, _Charles_, along,
Huzza!

_Char._ I begin to conceive you.

_Marpl._ That's more than I do, Egad--to the Garden-Gate, Huzza,
(_Drinks._) But I hope you design to keep far enough off on't, Sir
_George_.

Sir _Geo._ Ay, ay, never fear that; she shall see I despise her Frowns,
let her use her Blunderbuss against the next Fool, she shan't reach me
with the Smoak, I warrant her, Ha, ha, ha.

_Marpl._ Ah, _Charles_, if you cou'd receive a Disapp