_Lo._ Sir, your Fortune's ruin'd, and I don't think your Life's worth a quarter of an Hour's Purchase: Yonder's your Brother arriv'd with two Coaches and six Horses, twenty Footmen and Pages, a Coat worth fourscore Pound, and a Perriwig down to his Knees: So judge what will become of your Lady's Heart. _Young Fash._ Death and Furies! 'tis impossible. _Lo._ Fiends and Spectres! Sir, 'tis true. _Young Fash._ Is he in the House yet? _Lo._ No, they are capitulating with him at the Gate; the Porter tells him, he's come to run away with _Miss Hoyden_, and has cock'd the Blunderbuss at him; your Brother swears Gad Damme, they are a parcel of Clawns, and he had a good mind to break off the Match; but they have given the Word for Sir _Tunbelly_, so I doubt all will come out presently. Pray, Sir, resolve what you'll do this Moment, for I'gad they'll maul you. _Young Fash._ Stay a little. [_To Miss._] My Dear, here's a troublesome Business my Man tells me of; but don't be frighten'd, we shall be too hard for the Rogue. Here's an impudent Fellow at the Gate (not knowing I was come hither _incognito_) has taken my Name upon him, in hopes to run away with you. _Miss._ O the Brazen-fac'd Varlet, it's well we are married, or may be we might never have been so. _Young Fash._ [_Aside._] I'gad, like enough: Pr'ythee, dear Doctor, run to Sir _Tunbelly_, and stop him from going to the Gate, before I speak with him. _Bull._ I fly, my good Lord---- [_Exit ~Bull~._ _Nurse._ An't please your Honour, my Lady and I had best lock ourselves up till the Danger be over. _Young Fash._ Ay, by all means. _Miss._ Not so fast, I won't be lock'd up any more. I'm marry'd. _Young Fash._ Yes, pray my Dear do, till we have seiz'd this Rascal. _Miss._ Nay, if you pray me, I'll do any thing. [_Exeunt ~Miss~ and ~Nurse~._ _Young Fash._ O! here's Sir _Tunbelly_ coming. [_To_ Lo.] Hark you, Sirrah, things are better than you imagine; the Wedding's over. _Lo._ The Devil it is, Sir. _Young Fash._ Not a Word, all's safe: But Sir _Tunbelly_ don't know it, nor must not yet; so I am resolv'd to brazen the Business out, and have the Pleasure of turning the Impostor upon his Lordship, which I believe may easily be done. _Enter Sir ~Tunbelly~, ~Chap.~ and ~Servants~ arm'd._ _Young Fash._ Did you ever hear, Sir, of so impudent an Undertaking? Sir _Tun._ Never, by the Mass, but we'll tickle him, I'll warrant him. _Young Fash._ They tell me, Sir, he has a great many People with him disguis'd like Servants. Sir _Tun._ Ay, ay, Rogues enow; but I'll soon raise the Posse upon 'em.