CLEVELAND. Pest on't, I love the wench. I thought, if married to Arbald, and frequently near me, my suit might flourish. But the cunning vixen caught me in my own trap. If I could only trip her now; let me see--let me see. _Enter_ ARBALD. CLEVELAND. Ah, Arbald, come hither. How flourishes your suit with Miss Elsworth? ARBALD. Badly, I must confess. CLEVELAND. Unless we prevent it she will be married to this Armstrong before morning. ARBALD. Is it possible? CLEVELAND. I have my own reasons for desiring to break up the match between them--to prevent their marriage. Nothing occurs to me at all feasible to that end, but some plan to get introduced into Armstrong's presence a woman disguised as Rose. ARBALD. And marry them? CLEVELAND. Ay. Armstrong is on the alert for some scheme to rescue him--would fall into such a net as fishes do--and think it was his mistress' cunning to serve him. ARBALD. But where is the woman? CLEVELAND. Rose has a girl in attendance upon her who is near her size and figure--a mischievous wench, or I am no judge of physiognomies. METCALF. [_Who has been listening, aside_.] Oho! [_Exits hurriedly and secretly._ ARBALD. Bridget, they call her. CLEVELAND. Send her to me. Fifty pounds will be more than her fidelity can stand. Luckily we have the Chaplain with us. Have him ready. ARBALD. I'll hunt Bridget up at once. [_Exit_ ARBALD. CLEVELAND. The plan is a good one. Now, Lady Wit, those who win may laugh. But I was a blind fool ever to allow her to obtain that promise from me. _Enter_ METCALF. METCALF. Hist! Major Cleveland. CLEVELAND. Well, good fellow. METCALF. [_Aside_.] Fellow! It is remarkable now that I, who daily make a score of urchins tremble in their shoes at the frown of my portentous brow, can't in the least make these people afraid of me. Let me see what effect one of my frightfully severe looks would have. [_Walks up to him_. CLEVELAND. Well, sir, have you any business with me? METCALF. No, no, sir. [_Aside_.] I suppose my urchins feel as I do now. [_Aloud._] I've got an idea, sir, about the Captain. CLEVELAND. Well, what idea? METCALF. [_Aside_.] Here comes Rose--the very image of Bridget--all I wanted was to give her time. [_Aloud_.] An idea--[_Aside_.] to trap you with sword, coat, and all-- CLEVELAND. There she is--begone, fellow--you intrude upon me. _Enter_ ROSE, _disguised as_ BRIDGET. ROSE. [_Curtseying_.] Your Honour sent for me. METCALF. Ha! ha! ha! Trap to catch foxes--ho! ho! ho! [_Exit_. CLEVELAND. You look a lively, quick-witted lass. ROSE. [_Aside_.] Now for the airs of your true lady's lady. CLEVELAND. Do you know how to keep a silent tongue? ROSE. Bless us! Haven't I always been in practice? Ain't I mum to what all the fine gentlemen say about the bouquets, the presents, the love notes-- CLEVELAND. How would you like to make twenty pounds? ROSE. Oh, sir, I am quite invincible. CLEVELAND. But twenty pounds? ROSE. Say twenty-five.