Practice, Compass, Pleasance, Palate.
Pra. Here it is.
Com. Let's see it:
Your name's not in't.
Pra. I'll fill that presently.
It has the Seal, which is the main, and registred.
The Clerk knows me, and trusts me.
Com. Ha' you the Parson?
Pra. They say he's here, he 'pointed to come hither.
Com. I would not have him seen here for a World,
To breed suspicion. Do you intercept him,
And prevent that. But take your Licence with you,
And fill the Blank; or leave it here with me,
I'll do it for you; stay you with us at his Church,
Behind the old Exchange, we'll come i'the' Coach,
And meet you there withing this Quarter at least.
Pra. I am much bound unto you, Mr. Compass;
You have all the Law, and Parts of Squire Practice
For ever at your use, I'll tell you news too:
Sir, your Reversion's faln; thin-wit's dead,
Surveyor of the projects general.
Com. When died he?
Pra. E'en this morning; I receiv'd it
From a right hand.
Com. Conceal it, Mr. practic,
And mind the main affair you are in hand with.
Ple. The Coach is ready, Sir.
Com. 'Tis well, fair Pleasance,
Though now we shall not use it; bid the Coachman
Drive to the Parish-Church, and stay about there,
Till Mr. Practice come to him, and employ him:
I have a Licence now, which must have entry
Before my Lawyers. Noble Parson Palate,
Thou shalt be a Mark advanc't: here's a Piece,
And do a feat for me.
Pal. What, Mr. Compass?
Com. But run the words of Matrimony over
My Head, and Mrs. Pleasances in my Chamber:
There's Captain ironside to be a Witness:
And here's ma License to secure thee. Parson!
What do you stick at?
Pal. It is after-noon, Sir,
Directly against the Canon of the Church:
You know it, Mr. Compass: and beside,
I am ingag'd unto our worshipful Friend,
The learned Mr. practice, in that business.
Com. Come on, ingage your self: Who shall be able
To say you married us, but i' the morning,
The most canonical minute o' the day,
If you affirm it? That's a spic'd excuse,
And shews you have set the Canon Law, before
Any profession else, Of Love, or Friendship.
Come Mrs. Pleasance, we cannot prevail
With th' rigid Parson here; but Sir, I'll keep you
Lock'd in my Lodging, 'till't be done elsewhere,
And under fear of ironside.
Pal. Do you hear, Sir?
Com. No, No, it matters not.
Pal. Can you think, Sir,
I would deny you any thing? not to loss
Of both my Livings: I will do it for you;
Ha' you a Wedding Ring?
Com. I, and a Poesie:
Annulus hic nobis, quod scit uterque dabit.
Pal. Good!
This Ring will give you what you both desire.
I'll make the whole House chant it, and the Parish.
Com. Why, well said Parson. Now, to you my news.
That comprehend my reasons, Mrs. Pleasance.