_Fail_. This very Loveby. Another time, when we had sate up very late at ombre in the country, and were hungry towards morning, he plucks me out (I vow to gad I tell you no lie) four ten-penny nails from the dairy lock with his teeth, fetches me out a mess of milk, and knocks me 'em in again with his head, upon reputation. _Isa_. Thou boy! _Non_. What shall I do in this case? My comfort is, my gold's all marked. _Const_. Will you suspect a gentleman of Loveby's worth, upon the bare report of such a rascal as this Failer? _Non_. Hold thy tongue, I charge thee; upon my blessing hold thy tongue. I'll have him apprehended before he sleeps; come along with me, Mr Failer. _Fail_. Burr, look well to Sir Timorous; I'll be with you instantly. _Const_. I'll watch you by your favour. [_Aside. [Exeunt_ NONSUCH _and_ FAILER, CONSTANCE _following them_. _Isa_. A word, Sir Timorous. _Burr_. [Gets _behind_.] She shall have a course at the knight, and come up to him, but when she is just ready to pinch, he shall give such a loose from her, shall break her heart. _Isa_. Burr there still, and watching us? There's certainly some plot in this, but I'll turn it to my own advantage. [_Aside_. _Tim. Did you mark Burr's retirement, madam? _Isa_ Ay; his guilt, it seems, makes him shun your company. _Tim_. In what can he be guilty? _Isa_. You must needs know it; he courts your mistress. _Tim_. Is he, too, in love with my lady Constance? _Isa_. No, no: but, which is worse, he courts me. _Tim_. Why, what have I to do with you? You know I care not this for you. _Isa_. Perhaps so; but he thought you did: and good reason for it. _Tim_. What reason, madam? _Isa_. The most convincing in the world: He knew my cousin Constance never loved you: He has heard her say, you were as invincibly ignorant as a town-fop judging a new play: as shame-faced as a great overgrown school-boy: in fine, good for nothing but to be wormed out of your estate, and sacrificed to the god of laughter. _Tim_. Was your cousin so barbarous to say this? _Isa_. In his hearing. _Tim_. And would he let me proceed in my suit to her? _Isa_. For that I must excuse him; he never thought you could love one of my cousin's humour; but took your court to her, only as a blind to your affection for me; and, being possessed with that opinion, he thought himself as worthy as you to marry me. _Tim_. He is not half so worthy; and so I'll tell him, in a fair way. _Burr_. [_To a Boy entering_.] Sirrah, boy, deliver this note to madam Isabella; but be not known I am so near. _Boy_. I warrant you, sir. _Burr_. Now, Fortune, all I desire of thee is, that Sir Timorous may see it; if he once be brought to believe there is a kindness between her and me, it will ruin all her projects. _Isa_. [_To the Boy_.] From whom? _Boy_. From Mr Burr, madam.