GARNET. At the bar of the Talbot till called for. Expedition—will be blown up—All of a flame—Quick, dispatch—Cupid, the little God of Love—I conclude it, madam, with Cupid; I love to see a love-letter end like poetry. OLIVIA. Well, well, what you please, anything. But how shall we send it? I can trust none of the servants of this family. GARNET. Odso, Madam, Mr. Honeywood's butler is in the next room; he's a dear, sweet man; he'll do anything for me. JARVIS. He! the dog, he'll certainly commit some blunder. He's drunk and sober ten times a day. OLIVIA. No matter. Fly, Garnet; any body we can trust will do. _Exit_ GARNET. Well, Jarvis, now we can have nothing more to interrupt us. You may take up the things, and carry them on to the inn. Have you no hands, Jarvis? JARVIS. Soft and fair, young lady. You, that are going to be married, think things can never be done too fast: but we that are old, and know what we are about must elope methodically, madam. OLIVIA. Well, sure, if my indiscretions were to be done over again— JARVIS. My life for it you would do them ten times over. OLIVIA. Why will you talk so? If you knew how unhappy they make me— JARVIS. Very unhappy, no doubt: I was once just as unhappy when I was going to be married myself. I'll tell you a story about that— OLIVIA. A story! when I'm all impatient to be away. Was there ever such a dilatory creature?— JARVIS. Well, madam, if we must march, why we will march; that's all. Though, odds-bobs we have still forgot one thing we should never travel without—a case of good razors, and a box of shaving-powder. But no matter, I believe we shall be pretty well shaved by the way. [_Going_ _Enter_ GARNET. GARNET. Undone, undone, madam. Ah, Mr. Jarvis, you said right enough. As sure as death, Mr. Honeywood's rogue of a drunken butler dropped the letter before he went ten yards from the door. There's old Croaker has just picked it up, and is this moment reading it to himself in the hall. OLIVIA. Unfortunate! we shall be discovered. GARNET. No, madam, don't be uneasy, he can make neither head nor tail of it. To be sure, he looks as if he was broke loose from Bedlam about it, but he can't find what it means for all that. O Lud, he is coming this way all in the horrors! OLIVIA. Then let us leave the house this instant, for fear he should ask farther questions. In the mean time, Garnet, do you write and send off just such another. [_Exeunt._ _Enter_ CROAKER.