_Mer._ Go, go, find her out for shame Gentlemen; and do not stand idle thus, Od's bobs, when I was a Young fellow and invited to a Wedding, I used to frisk and Jump, and so bestir my self, that I made all the _Green-sickness_ Girles in the Room blush like Rubies. Ah, hah! I was a brisk Fellow in those Days, I'faith, and used to Cut Capers a Yard high: Nor am I yet so Old, but I can take a round or two still--Come, come Gentlemen, lets in again and firk it away, shall we not? _Spr._ With all my Heart Mr. Justice. _Mer._ Why that's well said Mr. _Spruce_, Ods bobs it was, and I thank you heartily. _Spr._ Come Madam, you must along with us, without you all's nothing. _Arab._ I'll wait on you Gentlemen; if you will give me leave Sir. [_To_ Bonvile. _Bon._ Oh my best Joy! This Day you may Command. _Mer._ That's right, that's right I'faith Gentlemen! This Day she Commands, and he for ever after. Ods bobs I have done so my self, and hope I shall do so still. Sister _Venter_, May I presume to ask if my Brother can say as much? [_Exit_ Bonvile, Arab. Spruce, _and the rest of the Guests._] _Mrs. Vent._ Yes Brother, I think he may, I freely Give him leave. _Mer._ Observe that Brother, she freely gives you leave: But who Gives leave the Master or the Servant? _Mr. Ven._ You are Merry Brother, and truly you have reason, having but one Daughter and see her Married as you would have her. _Mer._ Yes, I have one thank Heaven! You wou'd be glad Sister you cou'd say so, but your Barrenness does give your Husband leave (if he please) to look for Game elsewhere. _Mrs. Ven._ Well, well Sir, tho you jeer me, and make a scorn of my Sterility-- _Mer._ No, no, not I Sister, I scorn not your Sterility, nor your Husbands Virility neither. _Mrs. Ven._ My Husband's Virility! Pray spare my Husband; for he has not been so idle as you imagin; He may have an--Offspring abroad for ought you know, that you never heard of. _Mr. Ven._ Oh fye Wife, You will not make it publick will you? _Mrs. Ven._ And yet he keeps himself within compass for all that. _Mr. Ven._ If you love me _Winny_-- _Mrs. Ven._ Na, I say no more, but thereby hangs a Tale. _Mer._ Say'st thou so old Girle? What and has he been stragling then? Nay; nay I know he is a Ventersome Man; And a--Merchant of small Wares sometimes, especially when he can get a good Commodity: I love him the better for't I'faith, Ods bobs I do--A notable spark with a Young Wench in a corner, Is he not? A true Chip of the old block, his Father I warrant him--But Sister, I have something to say to you in private, concerning my Daughter. _Enter Nurse._ _Nurse._ By your leave Good Folks, Is Master _Venter_ the Merchant here I pray? _Mr. Ven._ Oh Nurse! I am glad to see thee, How does my Boy? _Nurse._ Very well, I thank Heaven Sir! He grows bravely I assure you. 'Tis a Chopping lad I promise you, and as like your good Worship; As if he had been spit out of your Mouth. _Mr. Ven._ Softly, Nurse softly.