Har. So be it, seraphic lady, when your honour shall think it meet and convenient so to do.
Spark. ’Gad, I’m sure none but a chaplain could speak so, I think.
Alith. Let me tell you, sir, this dull trick will not serve your turn; though you delay our marriage, you shall not hinder it.
Har. Far be it from me, munificent patroness, to delay your marriage; I desire nothing more than to marry you presently, which I might do, if you yourself would; for my noble, good-natured, and thrice generous patron here would not hinder it.
Spark. No, poor man, not I, faith.
Har. And now, madam, let me tell you plainly nobody else shall marry you; by Heavens! I’ll die first, for I’m sure I should die after it.
Lucy. How his love has made him forget his function, as I have seen it in real parsons!
Alith. That was spoken like a chaplain too? now you understand him, I hope.
Spark. Poor man, he takes it heinously to be refused; I can’t blame him, ’tis putting an indignity upon him, not to be suffered; but you’ll pardon me, madam, it shan’t be; he shall marry us; come away, pray, madam.
Lucy. Ha! ha! he! more ado! ’tis late.
Alith. Invincible stupidity! I tell you, he would marry me as your rival, not as your chaplain.
Spark. Come, come, madam.
[Pulling her away.
Lucy. I pray, madam, do not refuse this reverend divine the honour and satisfaction of marrying you; for I dare say, he has set his heart upon’t, good doctor.
Alith. What can you hope or design by this?
Har. I could answer her, a reprieve for a day only, often revokes a hasty doom. At worst, if she will not take mercy on me, and let me marry her, I have at least the lover’s second pleasure, hindering my rival’s enjoyment, though but for a time.
[Aside.
Spark. Come, madam, ’tis e’en twelve o’clock, and my mother charged me never to be married out of the canonical hours. Come, come; Lord, here’s such a deal of modesty, I warrant, the first day.
Lucy. Yes, an’t please your worship, married women show all their modesty the first day, because married men show all their love the first day.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.—A Bedchamber in P
P
Pinch. Come, tell me, I say.