_Mrs. Sul._ You like nothing; your time is not come; love and death have their fatalities, and strike home one time or other:--You'll pay for all one day, I warrant ye--But come, my lady's tea is ready, and 'tis almost church time. [_Exeunt._ SCENE II. _The Inn._ _Enter_ AIMWELL, _dressed, and_ ARCHER. _Aim._ And was she the daughter of the house? _Arch._ The Landlord is so blind as to think so; but, I dare swear, she has better blood in her veins. _Aim._ Why dost think so? _Arch._ Because the baggage has a pert _je-ne-sçai-quoi_; she reads plays, keeps a monkey, and is troubled with vapours. _Aim._ By which discoveries, I guess that you know more of her. _Arch._ Not yet, 'faith: the lady gives herself airs, forsooth; nothing under a gentleman. _Aim._ Let me take her in hand. _Arch._ Say one word more o'that, and I'll declare myself, spoil your sport there, and every where else: lookye, Aimwell, every man in his own sphere. _Aim._ Right; and therefore you must pimp for your master. _Arch._ In the usual forms, good sir, after I have served myself.--But to our business--You are so well dressed, Tom, and make so handsome a figure, that I fancy you may do execution in a country church; the exterior part strikes first, and you're in the right to make that impression favourable. _Aim._ There's something in that which may turn to advantage: the appearance of a stranger in a country church draws as many gazers as a blazing star; no sooner he comes into the cathedral, but a train of whispers runs buzzing round the congregation in a moment:--Who is he? whence comes he? do you know him?--Then I, sir, tip the verger half a crown; he pockets the simony, and inducts me into the best pew in the church; I pull out my snuff-box, turn myself round, bow to the Bishop or the Dean, if he be the commanding officer; single out a beauty, rivet both my eyes to hers, set my nose a-bleeding by the strength of imagination, and show the whole church my concern, by my endeavouring to hide it: after the sermon, the whole town gives me to her for a lover; and, by persuading the lady that I am dying for her, the tables are turned, and she, in good earnest, falls in love with me. _Arch._ There's nothing in this, Tom, without a precedent; but, instead of riveting your eyes to a beauty, try to fix them upon a fortune; that's our business at present. _Aim._ Pshaw! no woman can be a beauty without a fortune.--Let me alone for a marksman. _Arch._ Tom! _Aim._ Ay! _Arch._ When were you at church before, pray? _Aim._ Um--I was there at the coronation. _Arch._ And how can you expect a blessing by going to church now? _Aim._ Blessing? nay, Frank, I ask but for a wife! [_Exit._ _Arch._ Truly, the man is not very unreasonable in his demands. [_Exit, at the opposite Door._ _Enter_ BONIFACE _and_ CHERRY. _Bon._ Well, daughter, as the saying is, have you brought Martin to confess?