_Pounce._ Then, if I am to command, make not one step without me. And since we may be free, I am also to acquaint you, there will be more merit in bringing this matter to bear than you imagine. Yet right measures make all things possible. _Cler._ We'll follow yours exactly. _Pounce._ But the great matter against us is want of time, for the nymph's uncle, and 'squire's father, this morning met, and made an end of the matter. But the difficulty of a thing, Captain, shall be no reason against attempting it. _Cler._ I have so great an opinion of your conduct, that I warrant you we conquer all. _Pounce._ I am so intimately employed by old Tipkin, and so necessary to him, that I may, perhaps, puzzle things yet. _Cler. Sen._ I have seen thee cajole the knave very dexterously. _Pounce._ Why, really, sir, generally speaking, 'tis but knowing what a man thinks of himself, and giving him that, to make him what else you please. Now Tipkin is an absolute Lombard Street wit, a fellow that drolls on the strength of fifty thousand pounds. He is called on 'change, Sly-boots, and by the force of a very good credit, and very bad conscience, he is a leading person. But we must be quick, or he'll sneer old Sir Harry out of his senses, and strike up the sale of his niece immediately. _Cler._ But my rival, what's he? _Pounce._ There's some hopes there, for I hear the booby is as averse as his father is inclined to it. One is as obstinate as the other is cruel. _Cler. Sen._ He is, they say, a pert blockhead, and very lively out of his father's sight. _Pounce._ He that gave me his character called him a docile dunce, a fellow rather absurd, than a direct fool. When his father's absent, he'll pursue anything he's put upon. But we must not lose time. Pray be you two brothers at home to wait for any notice from me, while that pretty gentleman and I, whose face I have known, take a walk and look about for 'em--So, so, young lady. [_Aside to_ FAINLOVE.] [_Exeunt._ SCENE II.--_St. James's Park._ _Enter_ SIR HARRY GUBBIN _and_ TIPKIN. _Sir Har._ Look ye, brother Tipkin, as I told you before, my business in town is to dispose of an hundred head of cattle, and my son. _Tip._ Brother Gubbin, as I signified to you in my last, bearing date September 13th, my niece has a thousand pounds per annum, and because I have found you a plain-dealing man (particularly in the easy pad you put into my hands last summer), I was willing you should have the refusal of my niece, provided that I have a discharge from all retrospects while her guardian, and one thousand pounds for my care. _Sir Har._ Ay, but brother, you rate her too high, the war has fetched down the price of women; the whole nation is overrun with petticoats; our daughters lie upon our hands, Brother Tipkin; girls are drugs, sir, mere drugs. _Tip._ Look ye, Sir Harry, let girls be what they will, a thousand pounds a year, is a thousand pounds a year; and a thousand pounds a year is neither girl nor boy.