A Pox on't, here's my Son-in-Law come to hinder me, Duce take him cou'd he not stay a little longer? D'ye hear Sir, begon, leave this Place immediately, or I'le--I'le--I'le--Gad I cou'd find in my Heart, so I cou'd, but be gone. _Fri._ _Bonvile_ here with _Clara_ too, excellent. This goes to _Arabella_, and may it encrease the Storm. [_Exit_ Frie. _Bon._ My Father in Anger. _Mer._ O Son, Son, Son! dear Boy, welcome home, Od's bobs you are. _Bon._ I humbly thank you, Sir; but am sorry to see you so disturb'd. _Mer._ Nothing, nothing, only Mr. _Friendly_ and I have had a Word or two, that's all, that's all. _Bon._ About my going with him, I suppose; but that's past, and I hope, Sir, you'l be so kind as at my Request to pardon him. _Mer._ Indeed Son it was something else; By the Lord _Harry_ I can't forbear laughing at the Coxcomb, Ha, ha, ha; He told me, Ha, ha, ha, that one _Summerfield_, a very honest Fellow as ever liv'd, is grown exceeding familiar with my Daughter, your Wife. _Bon._ Ha! my Wife. _Mer._ Yes, your Wife, and that he had received Love-Tokens from her. _Bon._ How, Love-Token from her! _Mer._ Aye, aye, Love-Tokens I call'd 'em when I was a young Man: Nay, the Rogue was so impudent to tell me, that she had given him those Jewels which are lock'd about her Neck; Ha, ha, ha. _Bon._ The Jewels about her Neck, said you? _Mer._. Aye, what ails you Man that you change Colour so? 'Tis all a Lie Boy I warrant thee: And hadst thou not come just in the Nick of Time, I think o' my Conscience I shou'd have cut his Throat. _Bon._ As I will your Daughters if I find her false: Death, Hell, and Furies, am I made a Monster already? _Cla._ What, Sir, are you return'd for this? _Mer._ Hark y' son, hark you; suppose that this Mr. _Friendly_ shou'd have a secret Inclination to your spouse, d' ye see; and therefore, by reason he can't obtain his Desire, possesses you with Jealousy to make a Breach 'twixt you and your Wife. Od's bobs, I don't know, I can't tell what shou'd be the meaning of his carrying you away on your Wedding-Day, else, heh, Son, heh. _Cla._ Has the Italian Plague then infected you, that you stand thus unmov'd? _Enter_ Summerfield _leading_ Arabella. But see here's your Bride. _Bon._ And her beloved Adulterer with her! Death and Damnation, must I stand still and see this? _Mer._ Hey day! what the Matter now? _Ara._ _Bonvile_ here with _Clara_! Alas too true I find what before I scarce dar'd to think was so. Is _Bonvile_ then a Traitor, and false to _Arabella_? [_Aside._ _Cla._ Madam, at last I've found the pretious Jewel that you so long have sought in vain. [To _Arab._ _Ara._ Wear it your self Madam, I lost it, and it must be mine no more. _Cla._ What means this sudden Alteration? _Mer._ Ods bodikins, as you say, what does she mean? Are ye both mad, heh? _Sum._ Sir, I'm come to pay my Respects to you, and humbly beg a farther Knowledg of----. _Bon._ Of whom, sweet Sir, my Wife or me?