_Spr._ So in this of _Arabella_'s Marrying; for _Clara_ being Lady of much the same Birth and Quality, Grieves I--suppose to see her Rival get the start of her. _Mr. Ven._ Troth like enough. _Fri._ Y'are Pleasant Gentlemen--Or else because she having had so many Courtiers---- _Spr._ And you among the rest _Jack_. _Fri._ She now perhaps does cast a more favourable Eye upon some one that does not like her. _Spr._ Why Faith, and that may be too. _Enter_ Lucy _with a Letter._ _Lucy._ Sir, my Mistriss presents her humble Service to you, and has sent you this Letter; pray Heaven it be to your liking Sir. _Fri._ I thank the kind _Lucy_: There, there's for the Postage Girle: [_Gives her Money._] She has kept her Promise for once I see; I'm resolved to read it, tho I were sure my Death was Comprehended in it. Reads. _Try all your Friends, and find out the best and nearest to your Heart, That done, be sure to kill him for my sake. This fail not to do, if you respect and Love (as you pretend.)_ Clara. 'Tis as I fear'd, and what I know she most desires: Mischief, and Murder, are all her Sexes Practice, and Delight? Yet such is the Extravagancy of my Passion, I must obey the Mandate, tho to my certain Ruine: 'Tis strangely difficult, and does require Mature Deliberation. [_Exit._ _Spr._ What has _Friendly_ left us? _Mr. Ven._ I believe the Letter was the occasion, it may be it was a Challenge. _Spr._ A Challenge! No, no; Women don't use to bring Challenges, I rather believe 'tis an Amour; And that Letter as you call it a _Billet Deux_, which is to Conduct him to the place appointed; and in some Sence you may take that for a Challenge. _Mr. Ven._ And she the Civil Embassadress to usher him in. _Spr._ Yes, yes, but see the Bride and Bridegroom, with the rest of the good Company. _Enter Justice_ Merry-man, Bonvile, Arabella, _Mrs._ Venter _and others, as Guests Invited to the Wedding._ _Mer._ Son _Bonvile_, what call ye the Gentleman we met at the Garden Door? _Bon._ _Friendly_ Sir, a most approv'd and worthy Gentleman, and one of my chiefest Guests. _Mer._ Ay, ay, it may be so: But yet me thought he seemed somewhat displeased, tho Son, Hah, What think you? _Bon._ No sure Sir, he cannot be Angry, when his Friend's so happy. _Mer._ I can't tell Boy, but I believe there's something more than ordinary in the matter. Why should he leave the Company else? And Mrs. _Clara_ I miss her too. Why Gentlemen, why do you suffer this? _Ara._ Unknown to any Sir, she withdrew soon as we rise from Table. _Mer._ Sick of the Maid perhaps; because she sees you Mrs. Bride her Quondam Play fellow Married before her; Heh Gentlemen, heh! _Mr. Ven._ 'Troth like enough Brother _Merry-man_.