TOM FASHION. It, then, did very ill. LORD FOPPINGTON. Pr’ythee, why so? TOM FASHION. Because he used you very well. LORD FOPPINGTON. Well!—Naw, strike me dumb! he starved me; he has let me want a thausand women for want of a thausand paund. TOM FASHION. Then he hindered you from making a great many ill bargains; for I think no woman worth money that will take money. LORD FOPPINGTON. If I was a younger brother I should think so too. TOM FASHION. Then you are seldom much in love? LORD FOPPINGTON. Never, stap my vitals! TOM FASHION. Why, then, did you make all this bustle about Amanda? LORD FOPPINGTON. Because she’s a woman of insolent virtue, and I thought myself piqued in honour to debauch her. TOM FASHION. Very well.—[_Aside_.] Here’s a rare fellow for you, to have the spending of ten thousand pounds a year! But now for my business with him.—[_Aloud_.] Brother, though I know to talk of any business (especially of money) is a theme not quite so entertaining to you as that of the ladies, my necessities are such, I hope you’ll have patience to hear me. LORD FOPPINGTON. The greatness of your necessities, Tam, is the worst argument in the waurld for your being patiently heard. I do believe you are going to make a very good speech, but, strike me dumb! it has the worst beginning of any speech I have heard this twelvemonth. TOM FASHION. I’m sorry you think so. LORD FOPPINGTON. I do believe thou art: but, come, let’s know the affair quickly. TOM FASHION. Why, then, my case, in a word, is this: the necessary expenses of my travels have so much exceeded the wretched income of my annuity, that I have been forced to mortgage it for five hundred pounds, which is spent. So unless you are so kind as to assist me in redeeming it, I know no remedy but to take a purse. LORD FOPPINGTON. Why, faith, Tam, to give you my sense of the thing, I do think taking a purse the best remedy in the waurld; for if you succeed, you are relieved that way, if you are taken [_Drawing his hand round his neck_], you are relieved t’other. TOM FASHION. I’m glad to see you are in so pleasant a humour; I hope I shall find the effects on’t. LORD FOPPINGTON. Why, do you then really think it a reasonable thing, that I should give you five hundred paunds? TOM FASHION. I do not ask it as a due, brother; I am willing to receive it as a favour. LORD FOPPINGTON. Then thou art willing to receive it anyhow, strike me speechless! But these are damned times to give money in; taxes are so great, repairs so exorbitant, tenants such rogues, and bouquets so dear, that the devil take me I’m reduced to that extremity in my cash, I have been forced to retrench in that one article of sweet pawder, till I have brought it down to five guineas a maunth—now judge, Tam, whether I can spare you five paunds. TOM FASHION. If you can’t I must starve, that’s all.—[_Aside_.] Damn him! LORD FOPPINGTON. All I can say is, you should have been a better husband.