_I therefore advise thee to let me go on, Thou'd find I'm the Strength and Support of thy Throne; For hadst thou but Eyes, thou wouldst quickly perceive it, How smoothly the Dart Slips into the Heart Of a Woman that's Wed; Whilst the shivering Maid Stands trembling, and wishing, but dare not receive it._ Chorus. _For Change,_ &c. _The Mask ended, enter ~Young Fash~, ~Coupler~, and ~Bull~._ Sir _Tun._ So, very fine, very fine, i'faith; this is something like a Wedding; now if Supper were but ready, I'd say a short Grace; and if I had such a Bedfellow as _Hoyden_ to night----I'd say as short Prayers. _Seeing Young Fash._ How now----what have we got here? A Ghost? Nay, it must be so; for his Flesh and Blood cou'd never have dar'd to appear before me. [_To him._] Ah, Rogue---- _Lord Fop._ Stap my Vitals, _Tam_ again? Sir _Tun._ My Lord, will you cut his Throat? Or shall I? _Lord Fop._ Leave him to me, Sir, if you please. Pr'ythee, _Tam_, be so ingenuous now, as to tell me what thy Business is here? _Young Fash._ 'Tis with your Bride. _Lord Fop._ Thau art the impudent'st Fellow that Nature has yet spawn'd into the Warld, strike me speechless. _Young Fash._ Why you know my Modesty wou'd have starv'd me; I sent it a-begging to you, and you wou'd not give it a Groat. _Lord Fop._ And dost thau expect by an excess of Assurance to extart a Maintenance fram me? _Young Fash._ [_Taking Miss by the Hand._] I do intend to extort your Mistress from you, and that I hope will prove one. _Lord Fop._ I ever thaught _Newgate_ or _Bedlam_ wou'd be his Fartune, and naw his Fate's decided. Pr'ythee, _Loveless_, dost knaw of ever a Mad Doctor hard by? _Young Fash._ There's one at your Elbow will cure you presently. _To Bull._ Pr'ythee, Doctor, take him in hand quickly. _Lord Fop._ Shall I beg the Favour of you, Sir, to pull your Fingers out of my Wife's Hand? _Young Fash._ His Wife! Look you there; now I hope you are all satisfy'd he's mad. _Lord Fop._ Naw is it not impassible far me to penetrate what Species of Fally it is thou art driving at? _Sir Tun._ Here, here, here, let me beat out his Brains, and that will decide all. _Lord Fop._ No, pray, Sir, hold, we'll destray him presently according to Law. _Young Fash._ [_To_ Bull.] Nay, then advance, Doctor: come, you are a Man of Conscience, answer boldly to the Questions I shall ask: Did not you marry me to this young Lady, before ever that Gentleman there saw her Face? _Bull._ Since the Truth must out, I did. _Young Fash._ Nurse, sweet Nurse, were not you a Witness to it? _Nurse._ Since my Conscience bids me speak----I was. _Young Fash._ [_To Miss._] Madam, am not I your lawful Husband? _Miss._ Truly I can't tell, but you married me first. _Young Fash._ Now I hope you are all satisfy'd? Sir _Tun._ [_Offering to strike him, is held by ~Lov~. and ~Wor~._] Oons and Thunder, you lye.