_Const_. No more, Loveby. _Lov_. I need not, madam. Alas! this fellow is only the solicitor of a quarrel, 'till he has brought it to an head; and will leave the fighting part to the courteous pledger. Do not I know these fellows? You shall as soon persuade a mastiff to fasten on a lion, as one of those to engage with a courage above their own: They know well enough whom they can beat, and who can beat them. _Enter _FAILER _at a distance_. _Fail_. Yonder they are: Now, would I compound for a reasonable sum, that I were friends with Burr. If I am not, I shall lose Sir Timorous. _Const_. O, servant, have I spied you? let me run into your arms. _Fail_. I renounce my lady Constance: I vow to gad, I renounce her. _Tim_. To your task, Burr. _Enter NONSUCH and ISABELLA_. _Const_. Hold, gentlemen! no sign of quarrel. _Non_. O, friends! I think I shall go mad with grief: I have lost more money. _Lov_. Would I had it: that's all the harm I wish myself. Your servant, madam; I go about the business. _Exit LOVEBY_. _Non_. What! does he take no pity on me? _Const_. Pr'ythee, moan him, Isabella. _Isa_. Alas, alas, poor uncle! could they find in their hearts to rob him! _Non_. Five hundred pounds, out of poor six thousand pounds a-year! I, and mine, are undone for ever. _Fail_. Your own house, you think, is clear, my lord? _Const_. I dare answer for all there, as much as for myself. _Burr_. Oh, that he would but think that Loveby had it! _Fail_. If you'll be friends with me, I'll try what I can persuade him to. _Burr_. Here's my hand, I will, dear heart. _Fail_. Your own house being clear, my lord, I am apt to suspect this Loveby for such a person. Did you mark how abruptly he went out? _Non_. He did indeed, Mr Failer. But why should I suspect him? his carriage is fair, and his means great; he could never live after this rate, if it were not. _Fail_. This still renders him the more suspicious: He has no land, to my knowledge. _Burr_. Well said, mischief. [_Aside_. _Const_. My father's credulous, and this rogue has found the blind side of him; would Loveby heard him! [_To_ ISABELLA. _Fail_. He has no means, and he loses at play; so that, for my part, I protest to gad, I am resolved he picks locks for his living. _Burr_. Nay, to my knowledge, he picks locks. _Tim_. And to mine. _Fail_. No longer ago than last night he met me in the dark, and offered to dive into my pockets. _Non_. That's a main argument for suspicion. _Fail_. I remember once, when the keys of the Exchequer were lost in the Rump-time, he was sent for upon an extremity, and, egad, he opens me all the locks with the blade-bone of a breast of mutton. _Non_. Who, this Loveby?