_Isa_. Nothing more, only the choice of my own company, my own hours, and my own actions: These trifles granted me, in all things of moment, I am your most obedient wife and servant, Isabella. _Tim_. Is't a match, then? _Isa_. For once I am content it shall; but 'tis to redeem you from those rascals, Burr and Failer--that way, Sir Timorous, for fear of spies; I'll meet you at the garden door.--[_Exit_ TIMOROUS.] I have led all women the way, if they dare but follow me. _And now march off, if I can scape but spying, With my drums beating, and my colours flying_. [_Exit_. _Burr_. So, their wooing's at an end; thanks to my wit. _Enter_ FAILER. _Fail_. O Burr! whither is it Sir Timorous and Madam Isabella are gone together? _Burr_. Adore my wit, boy; they are parted, never to meet again. _Fail_. I saw them meet just now at the garden-door: So ho, ho, ho, who's within there! Help here quickly, quickly. _Enter_ NONSUCH _and two Servants_. _Non_. What's the matter? _Fail_. Your niece Isabella has stolen away Sir Timorous. _Non_. Which way took they? _Fail_. Follow me, I'll show you. _Non_. Break your necks after him, you idle varlets. [_Exeunt_. SCENE II. _Enter_ LOVEBY. LOVEBY'S _collar unbuttoned, band carelessly on, hat on the table, as new risen from sleep_. _Lov_. Boy! how long have I slept, boy? _Enter Boy_. _Boy_. Two hours and a half, sir. _Lov_. What's a-clock, sirrah? _Boy_. Near four, sir. _Lov_. Why, there's it: I have promised my lady Constance an hundred pounds ere night; I had four hours to perform it in, when I engaged to do it; and I have slept out more than two of them. All my hope to get this money lies within the compass of that hat there. Before I lay down, I made bold a little to prick my finger, and write a note, in the blood of it, to this same friend of mine in t'other world, that uses to supply me: the devil has now had above two hours to perform it in; all which time I have slept, to give him the better opportunity: time enough for a gentleman of his agility to fetch it from the East Indies, out of one of his temples where they worship him; or, if he were lazy, and not minded to go so far, 'twere but stepping over sea, and borrowing so much money out of his own bank at Amsterdam: hang it, what's an hundred pounds between him and me? Now does my heart go pit-a-pat, for fear I should not find the money there: I would fain lift it up to see, and yet I am so afraid of missing: Yet a plague, why should I fear he'll fail me; the name of a friend's a sacred thing; sure he'll consider that. Methinks, this hat looks as if it should have something under it: If one could see the yellow boys peeping underneath the brims now: Ha! [_Looks under round about_.] In my conscience I think I do. Stand out o'the way, sirrah, and be ready to gather up the pieces, that will flush out of the hat as I take it up. _Boy_. What, is my master mad, trow?