Bon. Well, daughter, as the saying is, have you brought Martin to confess?
Cher. Pray, father, don't put me upon getting any thing out of a man; I'm but young, you know, father, and don't understand wheedling.
Bon. Young! why, you jade, as the saying is, can any woman wheedle that is not young? Your mother was useless at five and twenty! Would you make your mother a whore, and me a cuckold, as the saying is? I tell you, silence confesses it, and his master spends his money so freely, and is so much a gentleman every manner of way, that he must be a highwayman.
Enter Gibbet, in a Cloak.
Gib. Landlord! Landlord! is the coast clear?
Bon. O, Mr. Gibbet, what's the news?
Gib. No matter; ask no questions; all fair and honourable. Here, my dear Cherry. [Gives her a Bag.] Two hundred sterling pounds, as good as ever hanged or saved a rogue; lay them by with the rest. And here—three wedding, or mourning rings—'tis much the same, you know——Here, two silver hilted swords; I took those from fellows that never show any part of their swords but the hilts: here is a diamond necklace, which the lady hid in the privatest part in the coach, but I found it out: this gold watch I took from a pawnbroker's wife; it was left in her hands by a person of quality; there's the arms upon the case.
Cher. But who had you the money from?
Gib. Ah! poor woman! I pitied her—from a poor lady, just eloped from her husband; she had made up her cargo, and was bound for Ireland, as hard as she could drive: she told me of her husband's barbarous usage, and so, faith, I left her half a crown. But I had almost forgot, my dear Cherry; I have a present for you.
Cher. What is't?