Sham. By no means, we must make use of him whilst he is hot; for I doubt the Humour is not natural, and I fear he may cool.
Sir Tim. But to our Business.
Sharp. Ay, Sir, this same Sister of his you must have; if it be but to put this insolent Whore Flauntit out of favour, who manages this Fop intirely. [Aside.
Sir Tim. Ay, but art thou sure there is no danger in this Enterprize?
Shall I not have my Throat cut? and the rest.
Sham. We have none of that Italian Humour now-a-days, I can assure ye; they will sooner, with a brotherly kindness, assist the yielding Sister to the willing Gallant.
Sir Tim. A good thriving Inclination, by Fortune.
Sham. And, Sir, you have all Encouragement; her Brother, you heard, refus’d to pay her Portion, and you know the Fate of a handsom young Wench in this Town, that relies on weak Virtue—Then because she is in The House with her Uncle, this same Steward has contriv’d matters so, to bring you in at the Back-door, her Lodgings being in the Garden.
Sir Tim. This is something—Oh, I’m impatient to be with her—Well, I must in, and make some Lye to Betty for my Absence, and be with you presently. [Exit Sir Tim.
Sharp. What Design hast thou in hand? for I suppose there is no such real thing as debauching of this Lady.
Sham. Look ye, Sharp, take to thee an implicit Faith, and believe Impossibilities; for thou and I must cozen this Knight.