_Bib_. How's this! _Lov_. Now is this rascal hunting after jests, to make himself the greatest to all that know him. _Bib_. This must be me. _Boy_. I can hear neither tale nor tidings of him: I have searched him in all his haunts; amongst his creditors; and in all companies where they are like to break the least jest. I have visited the coffee-houses for him; but among all the news there, I heard none of him. _Bib_. Good, i' faith. _Lov_. Where's the warrant? I'll put in my own name, since I cannot find him. _Boy_. Sir, I gave it a scrivener at next door, because I could not write, to fill up the blank place with Mr Bibber's name. _Lov_. What an unlucky vermin 'tis! now, for an hundred pound, could I have gratified him with a waiter's place at the custom-house, that had been worth to him an hundred pound a-year upon the nail. _Bib_. Could you so, could you so, sir? give me your hand, and I thank you heartily, Mr Loveby. _Lov_. Art thou honest Will? faith, 'tis not worth thy thanks, till it be done: I wish I had the money for thee. _Bib_. How much is't, sir? _Lov_. An hundred pounds would do it. _Bib_. Let me see: forty, I have already by me; take that in part, sir;--and that, and the lease of my house, would over-do it. _Lov_. By all means thy lease, Will: ne'er scruple at that; hang a piece of parchment, and two bits of soft wax! thou shalt do't, thou shalt, boy. _Bib_. Why, then I will, sir:--But stay, stay: now I think on't, Frances has one hundred and twenty pieces of old grandam-and-aunt gold left her, that she would never let me touch: if we could get that, Mr Loveby! but she'll never part with it. _Lov_. Tis but saying the place is for her; a waiting woman's place in the custom-house: Boy, go, and tell her on't immediately. [_Exit Boy_ _Bib_. Hold a little; she has been very desirous to get a place in court, that she might take place as the queen's servant. _Lov_. She shall have a dresser's place, if thou'lt keep counsel. The worst on't is, I have never a warrant ready. _Bib_. 'Tis all one for that, sir; she can neither write nor read; 'tis but my telling her 'tis a warrant, and all's well. I can't but laugh to think how she'll be choused. _Lov_. And you too: [_Aside_.] Mum, she's here, Will. _Enter_ FRANCES. _Franc_. A waiting-woman's place in the custom-house! there's news for me! thank you, kind Mr Loveby; you have been instrumental, I hear, of my preferment. _Lov_. No, 'tis a dresser's place at court, landlady. _Franc_. O gemini! that's better news. _Bib_. Aye, but you must make haste and fetch an hundred pieces: I can assure you five hundred are bidden for it: And the courtiers are such slippery youths, they are ever for the fairest chapman.