Patch. As for that, Madam, she’s even with you; for tho’ she can’t come abroad, we have a way to bring him home in spight of old Argus.

Miran. Now Patch, your Opinion of my Choice, for here he comes—­Ha! my Guardian with him; what can be the meaning of this?  I’m sure Sir Francis can’t know me in this Dress—­Let’s observe ’em.
    (They
withdraw.

  Enter Sir Francis Gripe_ and Sir George Airy._

Sir Fran. Verily, Sir George, thou wilt repent throwing away thy Money so, for I tell thee sincerely, Miranda, my Charge do’s not love a young Fellow, they are all vicious, and seldom make good Husbands; in sober Sadness she cannot abide ’em.

Miran. (Peeping.) In sober Sadness you are mistaken—­what can this mean?

Sir Geo. Look ye, Sir Francis, whether she can or cannot abide young Fellows is not the Business; will you take the fifty Guineas?

Sir Fran. In good truth—­I will not, for I knew thy Father, he was a hearty wary Man, and I cannot consent that his Son should squander away what he sav’d, to no purpose.

Mirand. (Peeping.) Now, in the Name of Wonder, what Bargain can he be driving about me for fifty Guineas?

Patch. I wish it ben’t for the first Night’s Lodging, Madam.

Sir Geo. Well, Sir Francis, since you are so conscientious for my Father’s sake, then permit me the Favour, Gratis.

Miran. (Peeping.) The Favour!  Oh my Life!  I believe ’tis as you said, Patch.

Sir Fran. No verily, if thou dost not buy thy Experience, thou wou’d never be wise; therefore give me a Hundred and try Fortune.

Sir Geo. The Scruples arose, I find, from the scanty Sum—­Let me see—­a Hundred Guineas—­ (Takes ’em out of a Purse and chinks ’em.) Ha! they have a very pretty Sound, and a very pleasing Look—­But then, Miranda—­But if she should be cruel—­

Miran. (Peeping.) As Ten to One I shall—­

Sir Fran. Ay, do consider on’t, He, he, he, he.

Sir Geo. No, I’ll do’t.

Patch. Do’t, what, whether you will or no, Madam?

Sir Geo. Come to the Point, here’s the Gold, sum up the Conditions—­

Sir Fran. (Pulling out a Paper.)

Miran. (Peeping.) Ay for Heaven’s sake do, for my Expectation is on the Rack.

Sir Fran. Well at your own Peril be it.

Sir Geo. Aye, aye, go on.

Sir Fran. Imprimis, you are to be admitted into my House in order to move your Suit to Miranda, for the space of Ten Minutes, without Lett or Molestation, provided I remain in the same Room.

Sir Geo. But out of Ear shot—­

Sir Fran. Well, well, I don’t desire to hear what you say, Ha, ha, ha, in consideration I am to have that Purse and a hundred Guineas.