L. Gal. A well contrived Lye. [Aside.
Sir Tim. Well, I have heard of your good Fortune; and however a Reprobate thou hast been, I’ll not shew my self so undutiful an Uncle, as not to give the Gentlewoman a little House-room: I heard indeed she was gone a week ago, And, Sir, my House is at your Service.
Wild. I humbly thank you, Sir. Madam, your Servant. A pox upon him and his Association. [Goes out.
Sir Tim. Come, Madam, my Coach waits below.
[Exit.
ACT III.
SCENE I. A Room.
Enter Sir Timothy Treat-all, and Jervice.
Sir Tim. Here, take my Sword, Jervice. What have you inquir’d, as I directed you, concerning the rich Heiress, Sir Nicholas Get-all’s Daughter?
Jer. Alas, Sir, inquir’d! why, ‘tis all the City-News that she’s run away with one of the maddest Tories about Town.