_Gay_. Ay,--but what shou’d I do with Money in these damn’d Breeches? --No, put it up--I can’t appear abroad thus--no, I’ll stay at home, and lose my business. _Land_. Why, is there no way to redeem one of your Suits? _Gay_. None--none--I’ll e’en lay me down and die. _Land_. Die--marry, Heavens forbid--I would not for the World--let me see--hum--what does it lie for? _Gay_. Alas! dear Landlady, a Sum--a Sum. _Land_. Well, say no more, I’ll lay about me. _Gay_. By this kiss but you shall not--_Assafetida_, by this Light. _Land_. Shall not? that’s a good one, i’faith: shall you rule, or I? _Gay_. But shou’d your Husband know it?-- _Land_. Husband--marry come up, Husbands know Wives secrets? No, sure, the World’s not so bad yet--where do your things lie? and for what? _Gay_. Five Pounds equips me--_Rag_ can conduct you--but I say you shall not go, I’ve sworn. _Land_. Meddle with your matters--let me see, the Caudle Cup that _Molly’s_ Grandmother left her, will pawn for about that sum--I’ll sneak it out--well, Sir, you shall have your things presently--trouble not your head, but expect me. [_Ex_. Landlady _and_ Rag. _Gay_. Was ever man put to such beastly shifts? ‘Sdeath, how she stunk-- my senses are most luxuriously regal’d--there’s my perpetual Musick too-- [_Knocking of Hammers on a Anvil_. The ringing of Bells is an Ass to’t. _Enter_ Rag. _Rag_. Sir, there’s one in a Coach below wou’d speak to you. _Gay_. With me, and in a Coach! who can it be? _Rag_. The Devil, I think, for he has a strange Countenance. _Gay_. The Devil! shew your self a Rascal of Parts, Sirrah, and wait on him up with Ceremony. _Rag_. Who, the Devil, Sir? _Gay_. Ay, the Devil, Sir, if you mean to thrive. [_Exit_ Rag. Who can this be--but see he comes to inform me--withdraw. _Enter_ Bredwel _drest like a Devil_. _Bred_. I come to bring you this-- [_Gives him a Letter_. Gayman _reads_. _Receive what Love and Fortune present you with, be grateful and be silent, or ‘twill vanish like a dream, and leave you more wretched that it found You_. Adieu. --Hah-- [Gives him a bag of Money. _Bred_. Nay, view it, Sir, ‘tis all substantial Gold. _Gay_. Now dare not I ask one civil question for fear it vanish all-- [_Aside_. But I may ask, how ‘tis I ought to pay for this great Bounty. _Bred_. Sir, all the Pay is Secrecy-- _Gay_. And is this all that is required, Sir? _Bred_. No, you’re invited to the Shades below. _Gay_. Hum, Shades below!--I am not prepared for such a Journey, Sir.