+Ping.+ Well, and d'ye think it's possible For me ever to become such a grig As that measure will meet about me? Why, to do that you must embowel me, and then Shave the remaining rolls of fat off from My melting sides. +Doctor.+ Here, pray, sir, throw this blanket About you; you will catch your death. +Ping.+ Look you, Unreasonable mistress, thus am I Fain to do every day, because I would Melt myself into a husband for you: You may hear my guts at this time boiling Within me; I am confident they will Have the same fat as a kettle full of Black puddings that are over-boiled, and so Broken. +Doctor.+ Come, sir, you must needs go to bed. +Ping.+ That is to say, I must go swim; for that I do constantly in a sea of sweat. +Mir.+ Ay, pray, sir, I wou'd not for all the world You should miscarry. +Ping.+ Indeed, I look as If I were with child. Lady, if you have Any thoughts of going to heaven, have Mercy on me. +Mir.+ Farewell, garbage. +Ping.+ O heat! O fat! O love! what will you Do with me? [_Exit with +Doctor+._ +Phil.+ Was there ever such sport as we have seen? +Mir.+ Heaven send thee and I many a fair Year to be mad together in. +Phil.+ Ay, as You say, give us but time enough, and when We grow tame, let the bell toll for us. But stay, let us return Back to my virgins, that I may Make my conditions with 'em, Before they get out of prison. _Enter all the +Ladies+ and bind them._ S'death! they Are all got out already. +1st Lady.+ O, have we Met with you now, ye pair of devils? we'll lay You fast enough. So good night to you, lie There till we come again. [_Exit +Ladies+._ +Phil.+ Pox on't, was there Ever such luck as this? There was a trap- Door in the garret, which they found and got Out at. +Mir.+ What think ye now of this day's sport Philidor? +Phil.+ Plague on it, well enough; if They had not bound us back to back together, We might have pass'd away the time. Malicious jades! no way of bridling us But this? Pr'ythee turn about thy head, and let Us try if we can kiss one another A little. +Mir.+ No, no, we won't Try for fear you should put your neck out of Joint with turning it too much of one side. +Phil.+ Well, fortune should be more careful Of accidents of this nature, and not Contrive them so cross. _Enter +Boy+._ +Phil.+ O, here comes a boy. Here, sirrah, come hither. +Boy.+ What say you, master? +Phil.+ Here, prythee, unbind us, I'll give thee a Shilling. +Boy.+ Why, sir, can't you unbind yourselves? +Phil.+ Simple boy, thou seest we can't.