_Esop._ Hold; if I let thee go, and give thee nothing, thou'lt be apt to grumble at me; and therefore----who waits there? _Enter Servant._ _Quaint._ [_Aside._] I don't like his Looks, by Gad. _Esop._ I'll present thee with a Token of my Love. _Quaint._ A--another time, Sir, will do as well. _Esop._ No; I love to be out of Debt, tho' 'tis being out of the Fashion. So, d'ye hear! Give this honest Gentleman half a score good Strokes on the Back with a Cudgel. _Quaint._ By no means in the World, Sir. _Esop._ Indeed, Sir, you shall take 'em. _Quaint._ Sir, I don't merit half your Bounty. _Esop._ O 'tis but a Trifle! _Quaint._ Your Generosity makes me blush. [_Looking about to make his Escape._ _Esop._ That's your Modesty, Sir. _Quaint._ Sir, you are pleased to compliment. But a----twenty Pedigrees for a clear Coast. [_Running off, the Servant after him._ _Esop._ Wait upon him down Stairs, Fellow; I'd do't myself, were I but nimble enough; but he makes haste, to avoid Ceremony. _Enter Servant._ _Serv._ Sir, here's a Lady in great haste, desires to speak with you. _Esop._ Let her come in. _Enter ~Aminta~, weeping._ _Amin._ O Sir, if you don't help me, I'm undone. _Esop._ What, what's the Matter, Lady? _Amin._ My Daughter, Sir, my Daughter's run away with a filthy Fellow. _Esop._ A slippery Trick indeed! _Amin._ For Heaven's sake, Sir, send immediately to pursue 'em, and seize 'em. But 'tis in vain, 'twill be too late, 'twill be too late; I'll warrant at this very Moment they are got together in a Room with a Couch in't; all's gone, all's gone; tho' 'twere made of Gold, 'tis lost: Oh! my Honour, my Honour. A forward Girl she was always; I saw it in her Eyes the very Day of her Birth. _Esop._ That indeed was early; but how do you know she's gone with a Fellow? _Amin._ I have e'en her own insolent Hand-writing for't: Sir, take but the pains to read what a Letter she has left me. _Esop._ Reads. _I love and am belov'd, and that's the Reason I run away._ Short, but significant!----_I'm sure there's no Body knows better than your Ladyship what Allowances are to be made to Flesh and Blood; I therefore hope this from your Justice, that what you have done three Times yourself, you'll pardon once in your Daughter._ _The Dickens!_ _Amin._ Now, Sir, what do you think of the Business? _Esop._ Why truly, Lady, I think it one of the most natural Businesses I have met with a great while. I'll tell you a Story.