_Aml._ Sure, Mrs. _Flippanta_, you think to make a fool of me. _Flip._ No, the Devil fetch me if I do----You shall have a diamond necklace in pawn. _Aml._ O ho, a pawn! That's another case. And when must she have this money? _Flip._ In a quarter of an hour. _Aml._ Say no more. Bring the necklace to my house, it shall be ready for you. _Flip._ I'll be with you in a moment. _Aml._ Adieu, Mrs. _Flippanta_. _Flip._ Adieu, Mrs. _Amlet_. [_Exit ~Amlet~._ _Flippanta ~sola~._ So----this ready money will make us all happy. This spring will set our basset going, and that's a wheel will turn twenty others. My Lady's young and handsome; she'll have a dozen intrigues upon her hands, before she has been twice at her prayers. So much the better; the more the grist, the richer the miller. Sure never wench got into so hopeful a place: Here's a fortune to be sold, a mistress to be debauched, and a master to be ruin'd. If I don't feather my nest, and get a good husband, I deserve to die both a maid and a beggar. [Exeunt. +ACT+ II. +SCENE+, _Mr._ Gripe's _House_. _Enter ~Clarissa~ and ~Dick~._ _Clar._ What in the name of dulness is the matter with you, Colonel? you are as studious as a crack'd chymist. _Dick._ My head, Madam, is full of your husband. _Clar._ The worst furniture for a head in the universe. _Dick._ I am thinking of his passion for your friend _Araminta_. _Clar._ Passion!----Dear Colonel, give it a less violent name. _Enter ~Brass~._ _Dick._ Well, Sir, what want you? _Brass._ The affair I told you of goes ill. [_To ~Dick~, aside._] There's an action out. _Dick_. The Devil there is! _Clar._ What news brings _Brass_? _Dick._ Before Gad I cannot tell, Madam; the dog will never speak out. My Lord what-d'ye-call him waits, for me at my lodging: Is not that it? _Brass._ Yes, Sir. _Dick._ Madam, I ask your pardon. _Clar._ Your servant, Sir. [_Exeunt ~Dick~ and ~Brass~._ _Jessamin!_ [_She sits down._ _Enter ~Jessamin~._ _Jes._ Madam. _Clar._ Where's _Corinna_? Call her to me, if her father han't lock'd her up: I want her company. _Jes._ Madam, her guitar-master is with her. _Clar._ Psha! she's taken up with her impertinent Guitar-Man. _Flippanta_ stays an age with that old fool, Mrs. _Amlet_. And _Araminta_, before she can come abroad, is so long a placing her coquet-patch, that I must be a year without company. How insupportable is a moment's uneasiness to a woman of spirit and pleasure! _Enter ~Flippanta~._ _Clar._ O, art thou come at last? Pr'ythee, _Flippanta_, learn to move a little quicker, thou know'st how impatient I am.