_Enter_ Hostess, Charles, Maria, and Cook.
Hostess to Maria
If the gentry in the Lion should want beds, shew them number 9.
Maria
Yes Mistress.—_exit_ Maria
Hostess to Cook
If their Honours in the Moon ask for the bill of fare, give it them.
Cook
I will, I will. _exit_ Cook.
Hostess to Charles
If their Ladyships in the Sun ring their Bell—answer it.
Charles
Yes Madam. _exeunt_ Severally.
SCENE CHANGES TO THE MOON, and discovers Popgun and Pistoletta.
Pistoletta
Pray papa how far is it to London?
Popgun
My Girl, my Darling, my favourite of all my Children, who art the
picture of thy poor Mother who died two months ago, with whom I am
going to Town to marry to Strephon, and to whom I mean to bequeath my
whole Estate, it wants seven Miles.