The Busie Body | Page 6

a surly _North-Britain_, and broke my Face for my Deficiency.
Sir _Geo._ Ha! ha! and did not you draw?
_Marpl._ Draw, Sir, why, I did but lay my Hand upon my Sword to make a swift Retreat, and he roar'd out. Now the Deel a Ma sol, Sir, gin ye touch yer Steel, Ise whip mine through yer Wem.
Sir _Geo._ Ha, ha, ha,
_Cha._ Ha, ha, ha, ha, fase was the Word, so you walk'd off, I suppose.
_Marp._ Yes, for I avoid fighting, purely to be serviceable to my Friends you know--
Sir _Geo._ Your Friends are much oblig'd to you, Sir, I hope you'll rank me in that Number.
_Marpl._ Sir George, a Bow from the side Box, or to be seen in your Chariot, binds me ever yours.
Sir _Geo._ Trifles, you may command 'em when you please.
_Cha._ Provided he may command you--
_Marpl._ Me! why I live for no other purpose--Sir George, I have the Honour to be carest by most of the reigning Toasts of the Town, I'll tell 'em you are the finest Gentleman--
Sir _Geo._ No, no, prithee let me alone to tell the Ladies--my Parts--can you convey a Letter upon Occasion, or deliver a Message with an Air of Business, Ha!
_Marpl._ With the Assurance of a Page and the Gravity of a Statesman.
Sir _Geo._ You know _Miranda!_
_Marpl._ What, my Sister _Ward?_ Why, her Guardian is mine, we are Fellow Sufferers: Ah! he is a covetous, cheating, sanctify'd Curmudgeon; that Sir Francis Gripe is a damn'd old--
_Char._ I suppose, Friend, you forget that he is my Father--
_Marpl._ I ask your Pardon, Charles, but it is for your sake I hate him. Well, I say, the World is mistaken in him, his Out-side Piety, makes him every Man's Executor, and his Inside Cunning, makes him every Heir's Jaylor. Egad, Charles, I'm half persuaded that thou'rt some Ward too, and never of his getting: For thou art as honest a Debauchee as ever Cuckolded Man of Quality.
Sir _Geo._ A pleasant Fellow.
_Cha._ The Dog is Diverting sometimes, or there wou'd be no enduring his Impertinence: He is pressing to be employ'd and willing to execute, but some ill Fate generally attends all he undertakes, and he oftner spoils an Intreague than helps it--
_Marpl._ If I miscarry 'tis none of my Fault, I follow my Instructions.
_Cha._ Yes, witness the Merchant's Wife.
_Marpl._ Pish, Pox, that was an Accident.
Sir _Geo._ What was it, prithee?
_Ch._ Why, you must know, I had lent a certain Merchant my hunting Horses, and was to have met his Wife in his Absence: Sending him along with my Groom to make the Complement, and to deliver a Letter to the Lady at the same time; what does he do, but gives the Husband the Letter, and offers her the Horses.
_Marpl._ I remember you was even with me, for you deny'd the Letter to be yours, and swore I had a design upon her, which my Bones paid for.
_Cha._ Come, Sir George, let's walk round, if you are not ingag'd, for I have sent my Man upon a little earnest Business, and have order'd him to bring me the Answer into the Park.
_Marpl._ Business, and I not know it, Egad I'll watch him.
Sir _Geo._ I must beg your Pardon, Charles, I am to meet your Father here.
_Ch._ My Father!
Sir _Geo._ Aye! and about the oddest Bargain perhaps you ever heard off; but I'll not impart till I know the Success.
_Marpl._ What can his Business be with Sir _Francis?_ Now wou'd I give all the World to know it; why the Devil should not one know every Man's Concern. (Aside.
_Cha._ Prosperity to't whate'er it be, I have private Affairs too; over a Bottle we'll compare Notes.
_Marpl._ Charles knows I love a Glass as well as any Man, I'll make one; shall it be to Night? Ad I long to know their Secrets. (_Aside._
_Enter Whisper._
_Whis._ Sir, Sir, Mis Patch says, _Isabinda_'s Spanish Father has quite spoil'd the Plot, and she can't meet you in the Park, but he infallibly will go out this Afternoon, she says; but I must step again to know the Hour.
_Marpl._ What did Whisper say now? I shall go stark Mad, if I'm not let into this Secret. (_Aside._
_Cha._ Curst Misfortune, come along with me, my Heart feels Pleasure at her Name. Sir George, yours; we'll meet at the old place the usual Hour.
Sir _Geo._ Agreed; I think I see Sir Francis yonder. (_Exit._
_Cha._ Marplot, you must excuse me, I am engag'd. (_Exit._
_Marpl._ Engag'd, Egad I'll engage my Life, I'll know what your Engagement is. (_Exit._
_Miran._ (_Coming out of a Chair._) Let the Chair wait: My Servant, That dog'd Sir George said he was in the Park.
_Enter Patch._
Ha! Mis Patch alone, did not you tell me you had contriv'd a way to bring Isabinda to the Park?
_Patch._ Oh, Madam, your Ladiship can't imagine