_Arch_. Make haste, make haste, couple 'em any way.-- [_Takes Aimwells hand_.] Come, madam, I 'm to give you-- _Dor_. My mind's altered; I won't. _Arch_. Eh! _Aim_. I 'm confounded! _Foi_. Upon my shoul, and sho is myshelf. _Arch_. What 's the matter now, madam? {100} _Dor_. Look'ee, sir, one generous action deserves another. --This gentleman's honour obliged him to hide nothing from me; my justice engages me to conceal nothing from him. In short, sir, you are the person that you thought you counterfeited; you are the true Lord Viscount Aimwell, and I wish your Lordship joy.--Now, priest, you may be gone; if my Lord is pleased now with the match, let his Lordship marry me in the face of the world. _Aim., Arch_. What does she mean? {110} _Dor_. Here's a witness for my truth. _Enter Sir Charles Freeman and Mrs Sullen_. _Sir Chas_. My dear Lord Aimwell, I wish you joy. _Aim_. Of what? _Sir Chas_. Of your honour and estate. Your brother died the day before I left London; and all your friends have writ after you to Brussels;--among the rest I did myself the honour. _Arch_. Hark 'ee, sir knight, don't you banter now? _Sir Chas_. 'Tis truth, upon my honour. _Aim_. Thanks to the pregnant stars that formed this accident! {121} _Arch_. Thanks to the womb of time that brought it forth!--away with it! _Aim_. Thanks to my guardian angel that led me to the prize! [_Taking Dorindas hand_]. _Arch_. And double thanks to the noble Sir Charles Freeman.--My Lord, I wish you joy.--My Lady, I wish you joy.--Egad, Sir Freeman, you're the honestest fellow living!--'Sdeath, I'm grown strange airy upon this matter!--My Lord, how d'ye?--A word, my Lord; don't you remember something of a previous agreement, that entitles me to the moiety of this lady's fortune, which I think will amount to five thousand pounds? _Aim_. Not a penny, Archer; you would ha' cut my throat just now, because I would not deceive this lady. _Arch_. Ay, and I 'll cut your throat again, if you should deceive her now. {139} _Aim_. That's what I expected; and to end the dispute, the lady's fortune is ten thousand pounds, we'll divide stakes: take the ten thousand pounds or the lady. _Dor_. How! is your lordship so indifferent? _Arch_. No, no, no, madam! his Lordship knows very well that I 'll take the money; I leave you to his Lordship, and so we 're both provided for. _Enter Count Bellair_. _Count Bel_. _Mesdames et Messieurs_, I am your servant trice humble! I hear you be rob here. _Aim_. The ladies have been in some danger, sir. _Count Bel_. And, begar, our inn be rob too! {150} _Aim_. Our inn! by whom? _Count Bel_. By the landlord, begar!--Garzoon, he has rob himself, and run away! _Arch_. Robbed himself! _Count Bel_. Ay, begar, and me too of a hundre pound. _Arch_. A hundred pounds? _Count Bel_. Yes, that I owed him. _Aim_. Our money's gone, Frank.