[_Townley opens the chest: Plotwell, who was cover'd with a gown and petticoat, gets out._] _Town._ Never was any thing so lucky. The doctor is just this minute gone to a patient. _Plot._ I tempt dangers enough in your service. I am almost crippled in this chest-adventure. Oh my knees! Prithee, my dear, lead me to a bed where I may strech myself out. [_Leading her off._ Enter SARSNET. _Sars._ Oh madam! yonder is the doctor in deep discourse with Underplot: I fear he has dogg'd me, and betray'd us. The are both coming back together. [_Exit Sarsnet._ _Plot._ I'll shrink snug into my shell again. _Town._ That he may directly pop upon you. The trunk will be the first place he will examine, have you no presence of mind? You sit for an intrigue! _Plot._ What shall I do? _Town._ Fear not, you shall be invisible i th is very spot. _Plot._ What do you mean? he's just at the door. You intend to discover me. _Town._ Mistrust me not: You shall walk out before his face at that very door, though he bring in a hundred spies, and not one of them shall perceive you. _Plot._ Don't trifle. Are you mad? [_knocking at the door._] Nay, now 'tis too late. _Town._ Arm thyself with flounces, and fortify thyself with whalebone; enter beneath the cupulo of this petticoat. _Plot._ The best security in the world! an old fellow has seldom any thing to do beneath that circumferance. _Town._ No more but under it immediately. [_Plotwell goes under it._ Thus Venus, when approaching foes assail, Shields her Æneas with a silken veil. Enter FOSSILE. _Town._ O my dear you come opportunely. How do you like my fancy in this new petticoat? there is something in it so odd! _Fos._ You have another in your chest much odder. I want to see that. _Town._ How jaunty the flounces! _Fos._ Ay, 'tis plain she would lure me from the chest; there I shall find him. [_aside._ _Town._ The lace! the fringe! _Fos._ All this is nothing to the embroider'd sattin. Prithee, my dear, give me the key. _Town._ Sure never was any thing so prettily disposed. Observe but the air of it: So _degagee_! But the lining is so charming. [_She walks to the door, and Fossile to the trunk. Plotwell kisses her out of the top of the petticoat, and then goes off._] [_As Fossile is cautiously opening the trunk with his sword drawn, Townley comes up to him._] What, more of your frolicks, Mr. Fossile. What time of the moon is this? _Fos._ This Underplot is a confounded villain, he would make me jealous of an honest civil gentleman, only for an opportunity to cuckold me himself. [_aside._] Come, my dear, forget all that is past. I know----I have proved thee virtuous. But prithee, love, leave me a moment; I expect some Egyptian rarities. [_Exeunt severally._ ACT V. Enter FOSSILE with a vial in his hand.