Sir _Tim_. And that we’ll furnish him with--his Master’s Gold, like all other mortal things, must return from whence it came. _Sharp_. Not all, Sir; for _Sham_ and I have dispos’d of part. Sir _Tim_. Indeed you are a little shabby. _Sham_. Ay, Sir, Fools were made to repair the Breaches of us that have Wit enough to manage ‘em. Sir _Tim_. What--the Goldsmith paid the Money at sight, without demanding why? _Sharp_. Readily, Sir--he’s a brave Fellow, and must not be lost so. _Sham_. By no means, we must make use of him whilst he is hot; for I doubt the Humour is not natural, and I fear he may cool. Sir _Tim_. But to our Business. _Sharp_. Ay, Sir, this same Sister of his you must have; if it be but to put this insolent Whore _Flauntit_ out of favour, who manages this Fop intirely. [_Aside_. Sir _Tim_. Ay, but art thou sure there is no danger in this Enterprize? Shall I not have my Throat cut? and the rest. _Sham_. We have none of that _Italian_ Humour now-a-days, I can assure ye; they will sooner, with a brotherly kindness, assist the yielding Sister to the willing Gallant. Sir _Tim_. A good thriving Inclination, by Fortune. _Sham_. And, Sir, you have all Encouragement; her Brother, you heard, refus’d to pay her Portion, and you know the Fate of a handsom young Wench in this Town, that relies on weak Virtue--Then because she is in The House with her Uncle, this same Steward has contriv’d matters so, to bring you in at the Back-door, her Lodgings being in the Garden. Sir _Tim_. This is something--Oh, I’m impatient to be with her--Well, I must in, and make some Lye to _Betty_ for my Absence, and be with you presently. [_Exit Sir_ Tim. _Sharp_. What Design hast thou in hand? for I suppose there is no such real thing as debauching of this Lady. _Sham_. Look ye, _Sharp_, take to thee an implicit Faith, and believe Impossibilities; for thou and I must cozen this Knight. _Sharp_. What, our Patron? _Sham_. Ay, _Sharp_, we are bound to labour in our Callings, but mum-- here he comes. _Enter Sir_ Timothy. Sir _Tim_. Come, let’s away, my Lyoness begins to roar.--You, _Sharp_, go seek after _Bellmour_, watch his Motions, and give us notice. [_Exeunt_. _Flaunt_. He is gone, and I believe [Betty Flauntit _peeping out_.] for no Goodness; I’ll after him, and watch him. [_Exit cross the Stage_. SCENE II. _Lord_ Plotwell’s _House_. _Enter Lord_ Plotwell, Charles, Trusty, _and two Servants_. _Lord_. In a Baudy-house, with Whores, Hectors, and Dice! Oh, that I should be so deceiv’d in Mankind, he whom I thought all Virtue and Sobriety! But go some of you immediately, and take Officers along with you, and remove his Quarters from a Baudy-house to a Prison: charge him with the Murder of his Wife.