Aim. O Archer! my honesty, I fear, has ruined me.
Arch. How?
Aim. I have discovered myself.
Arch. Discovered! and without my consent? What! have I embarked my small remains in the same bottom with yours, and you dispose of all without my partnership?
Aim. O Archer! I own my fault. [60]
Arch. After conviction—'tis then too late for pardon.— You may remember, Mr. Aimwell, that you proposed this folly: as you begun, so end it. Henceforth I 'll hunt my fortune single—so farewell!
Aim. Stay, my dear Archer, but a minute.
Arch. Stay! what, to be despised, exposed, and laughed at! No, I would sooner change conditions with the worst of the rogues we just now bound, than bear one scornful smile from the proud knight that once I treated as my equal. [70]
Aim. What knight?
Arch. Sir Charles Freeman, brother to the lady that I had almost—but no matter for that, 'tis a cursed night's work, and so I leave you to make the best on't. [Going.