CARE. By this hand, he's in the right; either this parson, or take one another's words: to bed now, and marry when we rise. PLEA. As I live, you come not here till you are married; I have been nobody's whore yet, and I will not begin with my husband. WILD. Will you kiss upon the bargain, and promise before these witnesses not to spoil our jest, but rise and go to church? PLEA. And what will Master Constant and Master Sad say? CAPT. Why, I'll run and invite them to the wedding, and you shall see them expire in their own garters. JOLLY. No, no, ne'er fear't, their jest is only spoiled. CAPT. Their jest! what jest? JOLLY. Faith, now you shall know it, and the whole plot. In the first place, your coachman is well, whose death we, by the help of Secret, contrived, thinking by that trick to prevent this danger, and carry you out of town. CAPT. But had they this plot? Jolly. Yes, faith, and see how it thrives! They'll fret like carted bawds when they hear this news. PLEA. Why, aunt, would you have thought Master Sad a plotter? well, 'tis some comfort we have them to laugh at. WID. Nay, faith, then, gentlemen, give us leave to rise, and I'll take my venture if it be but for revenge on them. CARE. Gentlemen, bear witness. CAPT. Come, come away, I'll get the points. I'm glad the coachman's well; the rogue had like to have spoiled our comedy. [_Exeunt omnes._ SCENE III. _Enter the_ LADY LOVEALL, MASTER SAD _and_ CONSTANT, _undressed, and buttoning themselves as they go_. SAD. Married? CON. And to them? LOVE. Ay, married, if you prevent it not: catched with a trick, an old stale trick; I have seen a ballad on't. SAD. We shall go near to prevent 'em. Boy, my sword. _Enter_ CAPTAIN. CAPT. Whither so fast? SAD. You guess. CAPT. If you mean the wedding, you come too late. CON. Why, are they married? CAPT. No, but lustily promised. SAD. We may come time enough to be revenged, though---- CAPT. Upon whom? yourselves, for you are only guilty. Who carried them thither last night? who laid the plot for the coachman? SAD. Why, do they know it? LOVE. Well, you'll find the poet a rogue, 'tis he that has betrayed you; and if you'll take my counsel, be revenged upon him. CON. Nay, we were told he did not love us. CAPT. By my life, you wrong him: upon my knowledge, the poet meant you should have them. SAD. Why, who had the power to hinder, then? CAPT. I know not where the fault lies directly: they say the wits of the town would not consent to't; they claim a right in the ladies as orphan wits. CON. The wits! hang 'em in their strong lines. CAPT. Why, ay, such a clinch as that has undone you, and upon my knowledge 'twere enough to hinder your next match. SAD. Why, what have they to do with us?