Wood. I’ll not be long after you; for I think I have hidden my blushes where I shall never find them.

  Re-enter TRICKSY.

Trick. As I live, Mr Limberham and father Aldo are just returned; I saw them entering.  My settlement will miscarry, if you are found here:  What shall we do?

Wood. Go you into your bed-chamber, and leave me to my fortune.

Trick. That you should be so dull! their suspicion will be as strong still:  for what should make you here?

Wood. The curse on’t is too, I bid my man tell the family I was gone abroad; so that, if I am seen, you are infallibly discovered.
          
                                                   [Noise.

Trick. Hark, I hear them!  Here’s a chest which I borrowed of Mrs Pleasance; get quickly into it, and I will lock you up:  there’s nothing in’t but clothes of Limberham’s, and a box of writings.

Wood. I shall be smothered.

Trick. Make haste, for heaven’s sake; they’ll quickly be gone, and then—­

Wood. That then will make a man venture any thing.
                               [He goes in, and she locks the chest.

Enter LIMBERHAM and ALDO.

Limb. Dost thou not wonder to see me come again so quickly, Pug?

Trick. No, I am prepared for any foolish freak of yours:  I knew you would have a qualm, when you came to settlement.

Limb. Your settlement depends most absolutely on that chest.

Trick. Father Aldo, a word with you, for heaven’s sake.

Aldo. No, no, I’ll not whisper.  Do not stand in your own light, but produce the keys, daughter.

Limb. Be not musty, my pretty St Peter, but produce the keys.  I must have the writings out, that concern thy settlement.

Trick. Now I see you are so reasonable, I’ll show you I dare trust your honesty; the settlement shall be deferred till another day.

Aldo. No deferring in these cases, daughter.

Trick. But I have lost the keys.

Limb. That’s a jest! let me feel in thy pocket, for I must oblige thee.

Trick. You shall feel no where:  I have felt already and am sure they are lost.

Aldo. But feel again, the lawyer stays.

Trick. Well, to satisfy you, I will feel.—­They are not here—­nor here neither. [She pulls out her handkerchief, and the keys
                         drop after it: LIMBERHAM takes them up.

Limb. Look you now, Pug! who’s in the right?  Well, thou art born to be a lucky Pug, in spite of thyself.

Trick [Aside.] O, I am ruined!—­One word, I beseech you, father Aldo.

Aldo. Not a syllable.  What the devil’s in you, daughter?  Open, son, open.