_Brass._ Here, he has cheated me of a diamond necklace. _Cor._ Who, Papa? Ah dear me! _Clar._ Pr'ythee what's the meaning of this great emotion, my dear? _Gripe._ The meaning is that----I'm quite out of breath----this son of a whore has got our necklace, that's all. _Clar._ My necklace! _Gripe._ That birdlime there--stole it. _Clar._ Impossible! _Brass._ Madam, you see master's a little----touch'd, that's all. Twenty ounces of blood let loose, wou'd set all right again. _Gripe._ Here, call a constable presently. Neighbour _Money-trap_, you'll commit him. _Brass._ D'ye hear? d'ye hear? See how wild he looks: how his eyes roll in his head: tye him down, or he'll do some mischief or other. _Gripe._ Let me come at him. _Clar._ Hold----pr'ythee, my dear, reduce things to a little temperance, and let us coolly into the secret of this disagreeable rupture. _Gripe._ Well then, without passion; why, you must know, (but I'll have him hang'd) you must know that he came to Mr. _Clip_, to Mr. _Clip_ the dog did----with a necklace to sell; so Mr. _Clip_ having notice before that (can you deny this, Sirrah?) that you had lost yours, brings it to me: Look at it here, do you know it again? Ah, you traitor. [_To ~Brass~._ _Brass._ He makes me mad. Here's an appearance of something now to the company, and yet nothing in't in the bottom. _Enter Constable._ _Clar._ _Flippanta_! [_Aside to ~Flippanta~, shewing the necklace._ _Flip._ 'Tis it, faith; here's some mystery in this, we must look about us. _Clar._ The safest way is point blank to disown the necklace. _Flip._ Right, stick to that. _Gripe._ Well, Madam, do you know your old acquaintance, ha? _Clar._ Why, truly, my dear, tho' (as you may all imagine) I shou'd be very glad to recover so valuable a thing as my necklace, yet I must be just to all the world, this necklace is not mine. _Brass._ Huzza----here constable do your duty; Mr. Justice, I demand my necklace, and satisfaction of him. _Gripe._ I'll die before I part with it, I'll keep it, and have him hang'd. _Clar._ But be a little calm, my dear, do my bird, and then thou'lt be able to judge rightly of things. _Gripe._ O good lack, O good lack. _Clar._ No, but don't give way to fury and interest both, either of 'em are passions strong enough to lead a wise man out of the way. The necklace not being really mine, give it the man again, and come drink a dish of tea. _Brass._ Ay, Madam says right. _Gripe._ Oons, if you with your addle head don't know your own jewels, I with my solid one do. And if I part with it, may famine be my portion. _Clar._ But don't swear and curse thyself at this fearful rate; don't, my dove: Be temperate in your words, and just in all your actions, 'twill bring a blessing upon you and all your family. _Gripe._ Bring thunder and lightning upon me and my family, if I part with my necklace.