_Aml._ Hark you, Mrs. _Flippanta_, is not here a young gentlewoman in your house that wants a husband? _Flip._ Why do you ask? _Aml._ By way of conversation only, it does not concern me; but when she marries I may chance to dance at the wedding. Remember I tell you so: I who am but Mrs. _Amlet_. _Flip._ You dance at her wedding! you! _Aml._ Yes, I, I; but don't trouble madam about her necklace, perhaps it mayn't go out of the family. Adieu, Mrs. _Flippanta_. [_Exit Mrs. ~Amlet~._ _Flip._ What--what--what does the woman mean? Mad! What a capilotade of a story's here? The necklace lost; and her son Dick; and a fortune to marry; and she shall dance at the wedding; and----She does not intend, I hope, to propose a match between her son _Dick_ and _Corinna_! By my conscience I believe she does. An old beldam! _Enter ~Brass~._ _Brass._ Well, hussy, how stand our affairs? Has miss writ us an answer yet? My master's very impatient yonder. _Flip._ And why the duce does he not come himself? What does he send such idle fellows as thee of his errands? Here I had her alone just now: He won't have such an opportunity again this month, I can tell him that. _Brass._ So much the worse for him; 'tis his business----But now, my dear, let thee and I talk a little of our own: I grow most damnably in love with thee; dost hear that? _Flip._ Phu! thou art always timeing things wrong; my head is full, at present, of more important things than love. _Brass._ Then it's full of important things indeed: Dost want a privy-counsellor? _Flip._ I want an assistant. _Brass._ To do what? _Flip._ Mischief. _Brass._ I'm thy man----touch. _Flip._ But before I venture to let thee into my project, pr'ythee tell me, whether thou find'st a natural disposition to ruin a husband to oblige his wife? _Brass._ Is she handsome? _Flip._ Yes. _Brass._ Why then my disposition's at her service. _Flip._ She's beholden to thee. _Brass._ Not she alone neither, therefore don't let her grow vain upon't; for I have three or four affairs of that kind going at this time. _Flip._ Well, go carry this epistle from miss to thy master; and when thou com'st back, I'll tell thee thy business. _Brass._ I'll know it before I go, if you please. _Flip._ Thy master waits for an answer. _Brass._ I'd rather he should wait than I. _Flip._ Why then, in short, _Araminta_'s husband is in love with my lady. _Brass._ Very well, child, we have a _Rowland_ for her _Oliver_: Thy lady's husband is in love with _Araminta_. _Flip._ Who told you that, sirrah? _Brass._ 'Tis a negociation I am charged with, Pert. Did not I tell thee I did business for half the town? I have managed Master _Gripe_'s little affairs for him these ten years, you slut you. _Flip._ Hark thee, _Brass_, the game's in our hands, if we can but play the cards. _Brass._ Pique and repique, you jade you, if the wives will fall into a good intelligence.