University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

Enter Cleaver, Thimble, and Hopkins.
Cleav.
So, Widow, have you got a Conj'rer here?
Well, does he tell you that your Wedding's near?
To Ulysses.
Come, tell us, Sydrophel, what say the Skys;
For by your Beard you shou'd be wondrous wise.

Ulys.
Thus say the Stars, if I can read them right,
One here will share her Bed to-morrow Night.

Pen.
Old Hypocrite! are you the Serjeant's Friend?

Hopk.
Have Patience, Widow, till you see the End;
Whoever is decreed, it must be so,
For Matches all are made in Heav'n you know.

Cleav.
Come, next, old Hocus, tell Us, if you can,—

Thimb.
Ay, tell Us, Master Conjurer, the Man.

Ulys.
I'll tell ye all, but in another Place;
It is not proper here before her Face.

Cleav.
SONG I.

All go out but Pen.