ELSWORTH. It is her humour, sir. Her passes are but play.
CLEVELAND. I'll be sworn her heart is as true as her wit. She is--
ROSE. Rebel, sir, from top to toe!
[_Enter_ ARBALD, MARVIN, _and_ HARRY.]
Ah, gentlemen, my best welcome. My father will be proud to greet you--
ELSWORTH. And most happy to know you, gentlemen.
[_Enter_ SERVANT, _with wine_.]
Major Cleveland, will you do me the honour--
CLEVELAND. Sir, I esteem it an honour. Gentlemen, I hope you will all
fill in honour of our host. [_They gather around, fill, and drink to_
MR. ELSWORTH.] Fill again, gentlemen, and honour the toast I am going
to propose. The ladies! speedy priests and rings.
ROSE. A doubtful compliment, Major Cleveland.
CLEVELAND. Can you think so?
ROSE. Ay, sir; for marriages, though called matches, are mostly sad
patch-work.
CLEVELAND. And the unmarried--
ROSE. Oh, they are even worse. Old maids and old bachelors are the
tossed about odds and ends of humanity.
CLEVELAND. [_Going over to her_.] The happiest wit, madam, I ever
heard.
ROSE. Captain Arbald, will you grant me your arm? I'm sure you would
like a turn in the garden. I shouldn't wonder if my sister were upon
the grounds. Lieutenant Marvin, will you go with us? Kate is dying for
the sight of a red-coat. [_Exit_.
CLEVELAND. A merry-hearted woman, Mr. Elsworth. There is a touch of
sly deviltry in her composition.
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