_John._ The rum and sugar is ready; but as for the fish-pond-- _Sir Geo._ I'll kick you into it, you thirsty old grampus. _John._ Will you? Then I'll make a comical roasted orange. _Sir Geo._ How dare you say you brought my son to Lady Amaranth's? _John._ And who says I did not? _Sir Geo._ He that best should know; only Dick Buskin here. _John._ Then Dick Buskin might find some other amusement than shooting off his guns here. _Sir Geo._ Did you bring my son to Lady Amaranth's in her chariot? _John._ And to be sure I did. _Sir Geo._ There, what do you say to that? _Harry._ I say it's false. _John._ False! Shiver my hulk, Mr. Buskin, if you wore a lion's skin, I'd curry you for this. [_Exit, in a rage._ _Sir Geo._ No, no, John's honest; I see through it now. The puppy has seen her, perhaps he has the impudence not to like her, and so blows up this confusion and perplexity only to break off a marriage that I've set my heart on. _Harry._ What does he mean? Sir, I'll assure you-- _Sir Geo._ Damn your assurance, you disobedient, ungrateful--I'll not part with you till I confront you with Lady Amaranth herself, face to face, and if I prove you've been deceiving me, I'll launch you into the wide ocean of life without rudder, compass, grog, or tobacco. [_Exeunt._ ACT THE FOURTH. SCENE I. LADY AMARANTH'S _House_. _Enter_ LADY AMARANTH, _reading_. _Lady Am._ The fanciful flights of my pleasant cousin enchant my senses. This book he gave me to read containeth good moral. The man Shakspeare, that did write it, they call immortal; he must indeed have been filled with a divine spirit. I understand, from my cousin, the origin of plays were religious mysteries; that, freed from the superstition of early, and the grossness of latter, ages, the stage is now the vehicle of delight and morality. If so, to hear a good play, is taking the wholesome draught of precept from a golden cup, embossed with gems; yet, my giving countenance to have one in my house, and even to act in it myself, prove the ascendancy, that my dear Harry hath over my heart--Ephraim Smooth is much scandalized at these doings. _Enter_ EPHRAIM. _Eph._ This mansion is now the tabernacle of Baal. _Lady Am._ Then abide not in it. _Eph._ 'Tis full of the wicked ones. _Lady Am._ Stay not amongst the wicked ones. [_Loud laughing without._ _Eph._ I must shut mine ears. _Lady Am._ And thy mouth also, good Ephraim. I have bidden my cousin Henry to my house, and I will not set bounds to his mirth to gratify thy spleen, and show mine own inhospitality. _Eph._ Why dost thou suffer him to put into the hands of thy servants books of tragedies, and books of comedies, prelude, interlude, yea, all lewd. My spirit doth wax wrath. I say unto thee a playhouse is the school for the old dragon, and a playbook the primer of Belzebub.