_Lord Fop._ Why then once for all; I have at last luckily call'd to mind, that there is a Gentleman of this Country, who I believe cannot live far from this place, if he were here, would satisfy you, I am _Novelty_, Baron of _Foppington_, with five thousand Pounds a year, and that Fellow there a Rascal, not worth a Groat. Sir _Tun._ Very well; now who is this honest Gentleman you are so well acquainted with. [_To_ Young Fash.] Come, Sir, we shall hamper him. _Lord Fop._ 'Tis Sir _John Friendly_. Sir _Tun._ So, he lives within half a Mile, and came down into the Country but last Night; this bold-fac'd Fellow thought he had been at _London_ still, and so quoted him; now we shall display him in his Colours: I'll send for Sir _John_ immediately. Here, Fellow, away presently; and desire my Neighbour he'll do me the favour to step over, upon an extraordinary Occasion; and in the mean while you had best secure this Sharper in the _Gate-House_. _Const._ An't please your Worship, he may chance to give us the Slip thence: If I were worthy to advise, I think the Dog-kennel's a surer Place. Sir _Tun._ With all my heart, anywhere. _Lord Fop._ Nay, for Heaven's sake, Sir, do me the favour to put me in a clean Room, that I mayn't daub my Clothes. Sir _Tun._ O when you have married my Daughter, her Estate will afford you new ones: Away with him. _Lord Fop._ A dirty Country Justice is a barbarous Magistrate, stap my Vitals---- [_Exit Constable with Lord ~Foppington~._ _Young Fash._ [_Aside._] I gad I must prevent this Knight's coming, or the House will grow soon too hot to hold me. _To_ Sir _Tun._] Sir, I fancy 'tis not worth while to trouble Sir _John_ upon this impertinent Fellow's Desire: I'll send and call the Messenger back---- Sir _Tun._ Nay, with all my heart; for to be sure he thought he was far enough off, or the Rogue wou'd never have nam'd him. _Enter Servant._ _Serv._ Sir, I met Sir _John_ just lighting at the Gate; he's come to wait upon you. Sir _Tun._ Nay, then it happens as one cou'd wish. _Young Fash._ [_Aside._] The Devil it does! _Lory_, you see how things are, here will be a Discovery presently, and we shall have our Brains beat out: For my Brother will be sure to swear he don't know me: Therefore run into the Stable, take the two first Horses you can light on, I'll slip out at the Back-Door, and we'll away immediately. _Lo._ What, and leave your Lady, Sir? _Young Fash._ There's no Danger in that, as long as I have taken possession; I shall know how to treat with them well enough, if once I am out of their reach. Away, I'll steal after thee. [_Exit ~Lory~, his Master follows him out at one Door, as Sir ~John~ enters at t'other._ _Enter Sir ~John~._