rogues. I must e'en throw the young lady in his way and persuade20 him, for our better security, to pass the night with her; so leave him with the shell while I slip off with the kernel. A tempting bait! But no--stand off, Satan! 'Tis against our fundamental laws. We adventurers have ten times the honor of your fair traders. (Going and stops.) Why, what? Sure it can't be! Zounds, if it should! It is the very man! Our little old withered fiery gentleman, by all that's terrible! From what a fine dream will this gouty spitfire awake us? He's certainly going to Mr. Stockwell's, and his gunpowder will blow up all at once. If Martin and Mr. Stockwell don't return too 30 soon from the banker's, I may send him away; 'tis our last stake, and I must play it like a gamester.
Enter Sir Harry Harlowe.
SIR HARRY. I don't know how my old friend Stockwell may receive me after this disappointment.
SLIP (aside). Stay till you see Mr. Stockwell, my old friend.--Bless me, what do I see! Sir Harry, is it you? Indeed your honor? Your very humble servant.
SIR HARRY. I don't know you, friend. Keep your distance. (Claps his hands on his pockets.)
SLIP. Don't you know me, sir?
SIR HARRY. It cannot be Slip, sure! Is this the fool's coat my son ordered 40 you for his wedding?
SLIP. Yes, sir, and a genteel thing it is upon me. What, you had a mind to surprise your friends who thought of you at London, sir?
SIR HARRY. I set out soon after you, lame as I was. I bethought me, it looked better to settle matters of such consequence with Mr. Stockwell viva voce than to trust it to a servant.
SLIP. You were always a nice observer of decorums. You are going now to Mr. Stockwell's?
SIR HARRY. Directly. (Going to knock.)
SLIP. Hold your desperate hand, and thank fortune that brought me 50 hither for your rescue.
SIR HARRY. Why, what's the matter? Rescue me, quoth-a! Have you seen 'em, Slip?
SLIP. Seen 'em? Ay, and felt 'em too. I am just escaped. The old lady is in a damned passion with you, I can tell you.
SIR HARRY. With me?
SLIP. Ay, that she is. How, says she, does the old fool think to fob us off with a flam and a sham of a dirty trollop? Must my daughter's reputation--and then she bridled and stalked up to me thus, sir.